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“When did she stop working for you?” Jasper asked.

Castelan finished his shave and toweled off the remaining soap. He went to a silver coffee urn on a sideboard and poured himself a steaming cup. With a gesture, he offered coffee to his guests, but Jasper and Warnock each declined.

“She ceased working for my agency over a year ago,” he finally answered. “As did Samuel Edwards, the man shown in the illustration to the right of Mary’s.”

A jolt fired along Jasper’s spine. He reclaimed the newspaper Castelan had left in a chair. The illustration to Mary’s right was that of Sebastian Lawlor. “This man is Samuel Edwards? Are you certain?”

“Completely,” Castelan said, sipping his coffee with one hand in his pocket, as if unperturbed. “What is this about, Inspector Reid? They are no longer my employees, so if they have done something, I have no part in it. And I do not want my agency’s name attached to them.”

As Miss Brooks had stated, having employees—even former ones—wanted for a crime would reflect poorly on the agency as a whole. It seemed that was the first thing Castelan had thought of.

“Tell me what you know of them. How long were they employed here? What were their roles?” Jasper asked.

Castelan’s cheek twitched—the only sign that he was vexed. But then, he went to his desk chair and sat. “Miss Keating was one of my first lady investigators when I opened the agency four years ago. Samuel came on shortly afterward as a private detective. I assigned them cases, as I do all my employees. They followed targets, collected information, posed undercover, and they were very good at their jobs. My agency’s success rate is the envy of the private sector, Inspector. I believe Scotland Yard is aware of that.”

There were scores of private inquiry agencies in London, but only one or two that the Metropolitan Police Force deigned acceptable to contract with when caseloads piled up, and not enough detectives were available. Castelan’s wasn’t one of them. But Jasper would not waste time explaining that an agency best known for investigating infidelity disputes for divorce settlements would not be of much use to the Yard.

“Why did they depart your agency?” Jasper asked instead.

“Miss Keating was the sort who came and went. Valuable in certain situations, but I did have other ladies who were more eager to prove themselves. Eventually, she stopped coming around for assignments. I figured she’d moved on.”

“But she was here recently,” Jasper said.

“I’d like to know how you came by that information,” Castelan said, but he didn’t press. “You’re correct. She was here…oh, maybe a month or two ago?”

“What did she want?”

“A job. She said she was working as a maid and was bored to tears. Wanted out,” he answered.

“You didn’t hire her?” Jasper asked.

“There was nothing for her, especially since I’d just hired Miss Brooks. Whom, I believe, you may know through Miss Spencer?” He arched a brow, and Jasper was certain he’d just figured out that his newest employee had been speaking to the police.

“What about Samuel Edwards?” Warnock piped up, lifting his pencil from his notepad. “When and why did he leave the agency?”

“Him, I sacked, two years ago.”

Two years ago, Edwards had been about to start posing as Rupert Herrington, Jasper calculated.

“The reason?” he asked.

“Honestly?” Castelan sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. “I didn’t trust him. My accountant found that he had been siphoning off the top of his assignments. My detectives have expenses when they are on a case, which I provide for. Samuel would require more than others, and he consistently did not give proof of where or how he spent the funds.”

The deceitful behavior fell in line with what Jasper knew of the man so far.

He placed the newspaper on the desk before Castelan and tapped the illustration of Mr. Gray. “What about him? Do you recognize him?”

Castelan took a cursory glance but was already shaking his head. “No. He isn’t one of mine.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I’ve given you many answers, Inspector. Now, I would like one from you in return. What is this about? What are Miss Keating and Mr. Edwards accused of doing?”

If he and Warnock left without giving some explanation, Castelan would likely only put one of his men on the hunt for the truth. Jasper didn’t have the patience to deal with a private detective nosing about.

“A deception scheme,” he answered. “One that left a woman dead and another nearly so.”

Castelan uncrossed his legs and sat forward. “This is the case Miss Spencer came to me about. The woman she found alive in a casket in the funeral director’s back room. Augusta Lawlor?”

“Yes. Mary Keating was employed as a maid for the Lawlors, and Samuel Edwards was posing as the husband, Sebastian.” Jasper wasn’t inclined to give too many details to Castelan but did reveal the outcome. “Edwards is dead. He was murdered. It’s likely this other man, the one you do not recognize, is his associate. And killer.”

Castelan took a moment to absorb the news. He then whistled in awe. “I knew Edwards was a rogue, but this…” He sighed and stood from his chair. “I never would have suspected the man was violent.”