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He glanced at her, mouth twisted. “I do not have Wakefield’s address. It wasn’t on the list Roger Delacourt provided.”

She felt a little thrill of victory. “Then we seek him at the Delacourts. It’s the dinner hour, and perhaps Wakefield will be there with the family.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue the point further.

“Either way,” she said brightly, “we find him. He’ll either be dining with them, or we discover where he lives and go to his home tonight.” She glanced over at him, tempted to plead for him to agree. “There’s no time to waste, Gideon.”

“We do both need to sleep at some point.”

“It’s not sleeping time yet.”

“You usually stay up late hours working, do you, Miss Poole?”

“I know you put in late hours, Detective Inspector. I feel more than capable, and this is the best lead we’ve had, is it not?”

“It is an intriguing new lead, yes,” he admitted.

“And you are going to go without me?” she needled.

“I would prefer not to.”

“So we should go together.” She said it as if it was decided, and she hoped that it was.

“Did you see anything?” he asked her quietly. “When you touched Barclay.”

“It came and went quickly. Flashes. I saw a strike to Miss Collier. Then he held her in his arms. She allowed it. Perhaps he truly did not mean to hit her, like he said. Perhaps he was out of control, and she got in the middle of it, but it’s no real excuse.”

“No.”

“But did I see anything that indicated that he put his hands around her throat and put her in the water? Took a knife to her belly? No.”

They finally found a hackney to hire, and Electra climbed inside while Gideon called up the Delacourts’ address. She hoped Wakefield was at the Delacourts’ or that they could locate him quickly. Yet the more she thought on it, the more she wondered if the man had the mettle to keep something from his fiancée and her father that might help them find Iris. It would be unforgivable.

“What if it’s not Wakefield?” Gideon said as he settled onto the bench next to her.

Perhaps he, like her, couldn’t help but consider their next step if Wakefield proved a dead end.

“She might have known another doctor who was married or engaged,” he pointed out.

“True, but shall we start with the simplest explanation first?”

“You sound like a detective.” He flashed a smile.

“Well, I was surrounded by them. My father, and then you. I’ve been surrounded by them most of my life.”

“Indeed,” he said quietly. Then his expression turned serious, even grave. “What might he have done with her?”

“One possibility sticks in my mind,” Electra admitted.

“Which is?”

“What if she became with child, and he sent her away rather than face the reality of what he’d done? Based on the way Mr. Delacourt seems to view his daughters, I suspect she would feel quite a bit of shame. Not just toward her sister but also for failing her father’s expectations.”

“Is it a failure to fall in love?” Gideon said.

Electra had rarely heard him speak of love and had never heard him champion it in such a manner. Her pulse began to thrum as she studied him in the carriage’s shadows. He refused to look her way.

“Perhaps not,” she admitted. “But it is complicated when it is your sister’s fiancé.”