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“She prefers cream, no sugar,” Gideon told Violet.

The young woman eyed both of them, then looked at Iris, who let out a light laugh.

“You and Miss Poole know each other well, Inspector.”

“Yes,” Gideon agreed.

“We were childhood friends,” Electra explained.

“I see,” Violet said archly. “So you truly do value her input.”

“I truly do.”

“You should petition for Scotland Yard to keep her on in a formal advisory role,” Iris said, quite serious and intent on the matter.

“I might just do that, Miss Delacourt.”

Electra hid a smile behind her teacup.

For several minutes, they all settled back and sipped at the fragrant brew.

Then Gideon set his cup down and considered how to begin. He was loath to dim the pleasant feeling in the room, the smiles and ease he sensed between the two sisters, and between the two sisters and Electra.

Iris seemed to notice his dilemma. “Please, Inspector Pierce, I know that you’ve come to give us news about the case. I would like to hear it.”

Violet reached for her sister’s hand, and they clasped them together, interlocking their fingers.

“Kerrigan has appeared before a magistrate and been remanded to Newgate Prison until his trial.”

He noticed that Iris had flinched at the man’s name.

“And her? The housekeeper?” Violet asked.

“She has agreed to attest to what she saw and what she did at his direction. There’s a possibility that she will be given a more lenient sentence, but she is an accessory to abduction.”

Gideon took a sip of tea and awaited any questions either sister might have.

Then Iris spoke so softly that he strained to hear her. “She was not cruel to me, but I cannot say she was kind. And she was the only one there who knew. She did nothing.”

“She will pay a price for that,” Violet said, her voice hard. “Will she hang?”

Before Gideon could answer, Iris nudged her sister’s arm.

“I’m not sure I want her to hang.”

“That’s not our decision, my love,” Violet reminded her. “A jury will decide, and a judge will pass sentence.”

“Yes.” Gideon could but agree.

“But he will hang,” Iris murmured.

“Yes,” he said with equal certainty.

Violet nodded as if that was all she wished to hear.

“It is still hard to hear his name or to th-think of the days I spent hidden in his home, in captivity, and to imagine the days that Calliope spent with him before she died. I didn’t want to believe that he could have harmed her.” Iris lifted her head, her voice becoming clearer, more audible. “They had a strange relationship. She truly cared for him, and he had given her a post at the museum. He paid for her lodgings.”

She smoothed her free hand along the buttons of her skirt. “He paid her to work at the museum, even though the museum itself would not recompense either of us. She called him her protector.” Shaking her head, as if pushing memories away, she said, “When I first began at the museum, she was quite infatuated with him. But that didn’t last long because he called her by a different name.”