“Ye are acquainted with Sir McQuarrie, a man of some reputation,” he commented. “It was mentioned in one of the letters.”
“We have not yet met. I hoped to call on him when I arrived.”
“The letter was provided by Sir Laughton, a well-known member of the legal profession in London.”
“They are acquainted from university,” I replied. “I would appreciate it if you would return that letter as well as the others.”
“Of course.” Inspector Landry handed me Sir Laughton’s letter for Sir Alastair, as well as the bundle of letters from Dory.
I tucked them into my bag.
“Ye are lookin’ for someone. The name Jacobson was mentioned in two of the letters from yer friend.”
Jacobson, the name I had given Dory. It was the only thing I remembered from years before as a very young child.
A connection to my family? It was all that I had, and I had asked Dory to learn what she could.
“It is a private matter.”
He nodded, but did not pursue further questions regarding the letters. However, there were other questions.
“How long were you in the room after you discovered Miss Brown’s body?”
“Only a few minutes before the constable arrived.”
“Did you see anyone else while you were there? Or about the building?”
Only the rats in the room.
I shook my head. “Only the old woman I encountered when I first arrived. I saw no one else.”
“Had Miss Brown mentioned anyone she was afraid of, or an encounter she was concerned about?”
I shook my head as I stared down at my clasped hands.
“What will happen now?” I inquired.
His expression softened. “It has been arranged for the body to be taken to the police mortuary while we make inquiries. Are you aware of any family the woman had who might need to be notified?”
Family?
A man. The way she spoke of him, they might have been married. Or not. Then, he was gone.
‘He’s dead, ye know,”she said at the time.“Leastwise to me, he is. And good riddance.”She never spoke of him again.
I shook my head. “There is no one else.” I had other questions.
“What will happen after you make your inquiries?”
“There are means provided by the city of Edinburgh for burial in such situations.”
A prostitute’s grave that I had heard the ladies atThe Churchspeak of before—nameless, and then simply forgotten.
“I would like to know when that happens...” I had no way of knowing what a headstone might cost, but I would make certain that she had one, some way of knowing that she had lived. That she was important, at least to me.
“I will see that you are notified, after we finish gathering any evidence that might be found in her room.”
“Would it be possible for me to accompany someone there?”
