Page 98 of Corpse in the Canal

Constance stared at her. “My dear girl, my husband was the one who suffered. Have you any idea of the tragedy you so nearly caused? You fired a pistol in our direction. If my husband had died, you would hang.”

Penelope’s eyes dilated. Constance was furiously glad of her fear. The girl needed it.

“We can still make charges against you. Believe me, I am considering it. You are not God, Penelope. You’re a silly, lovesick girl who stole a weapon you had no idea how to use, whatever you imagined. My children would have been fatherless. Your father would have no daughter, just the shame of your disgrace. And I very much doubt Sir Felix would be thanking you for any of it.”

The girl was already ashamed and afraid of her own actions. Constance thought she had probably said enough.

She turned and walked to the door.

“Will you tell the policemen?” Penelope blurted.

“I will certainly not waste their time by lying. You may have a visit from them. But you must tell the truth.” Constance went out, leaving the door wide open.

Chapter Twenty-One

A dank fog drifted above the river, spreading its heavy, clinging tentacles across surrounding streets, expanding and thickening. Janey could smell its foulness in her nostrils, taste it in her mouth, and now that it was dark, she could barely see the hand in front of her face, let alone someone approaching to rob them. Sounds were so muffled and distorted that she couldn’t tell whether an approaching carriage was in this street or the next, whether the bark of a dog or a plaintive cry were anywhere near them.

Janey kept close to Lenny, holding tight to the heavy reticule in her left hand. It was a trick she had learned from Constance, so simple she should have thought of it herself. Keep stones in the otherwise harmless little bag that most men discounted. Janey knew from experience that such harmlessness could deliver a very nasty blow. And if they stayed out here much longer, they were going to need it. She was sure they were being followed, and in this kind of area, that could only mean one thing.

“Let’s go home,” she said abruptly. “We’ll never find him in this.”

They had been looking for Henry Hope since the afternoon, inquiring at the various clubs and alehouses that, according to Tulip and her informant, he usually frequented. As a result, Janey knew he would be alerted to their search by now. He might choose to find out what they wanted. He was just as likely to send someone to kill them for asking questions.

Lenny glanced at her and nodded at once. But she could feel his frustration in the stiffness of his posture and the jerky way he peered around him. He was disappointed to fail in their quest.

She squeezed his arm. “He might find us tomorrow, and in safer surroundings.”

In the pale glow from a dirty window, Lenny’s rare half smile dawned, making her heart skitter. Which was when a large, hulking figure loomed out of the mist beside him. Instinctively, Janey tugged Lenny to the left and quickened her pace, but someone else stopped right in their path, forcing them to halt. He carried an old lantern that only just pierced the fog.

Janey, ready to protect Lenny at all costs, tightened her grip on the reticule just as something yanked at it hard. She wrenched it free, swinging it high.

A third man loomed out of the murk beside her, close enough to make out his features and the fit of his clothes. Someone who regarded himself as a cut above the ragged thugs who encircled them. Beside her, Lenny had gone very still. No wonder. Their quarry seemed to have found them.

And he held all the cards.

She lowered her arm, hugging the reticule to her chest to keep it away from him.

“That’s quite a grip you got on your bag, miss,” the well-dressed man remarked. “Just as well around here. Not a safe place to be.”

“Thanks for caring,” Janey said. “We’re just leaving.”

“So soon? People so fond of safety shouldn’t ask so many questions.”

Janey knew better than to show fear, but the man’s curiously soft voice, surrounded by the fog and filth of the street, chilled her blood. They could be murdered here and their bodies left unseen in the street for however long the fog lasted. Even tripping over them, no one would stop to look, and she very much doubted the police constables patrolled this area.

“Got any for us?” Lenny asked cheerfully.

Hope—she knew it was him—turned his gaze on Lenny. “Any what?”

“Questions. Only fair.”

Hope showed his teeth. It was not a friendly smile. “I like a fair-minded man. Who are you and who’re you from?”

“We work for an agency engaged to find a missing gentleman,” Lenny said.

Hope laughed while his two henchmen remained alarmingly straight-faced. “No gentlemen round here. But I’ll bite. What’s his name?”

“Percival Harvey. Someone told us he knew you.”