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Gabriella lifted a hand, palm up. “I choose not to be frightened by that sick bastard.”
“Quite right,” Ruby said. “Never let the bastards grind you down.”
James stood, shaking his head. “I’m leaving a guard on your door, Mrs. Everett. Gabriella, I’ll drop you home, and increase the patrols on your street.”
“When they let Ruby out of hospital, I’m going to stay with her until she recovers,” Gabriella said. “Mr. Rodney has Jerome to help him, so I’m free to help her.”
“All right. That will save some men, if you’re in the same residence. How long until they release you?”
Ruby shook her head. “Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. They can’t be sure until the morning.”
A plump, rosy-cheeked nurse appeared in the doorway. “That’s enough, please. Mrs. Everett needs to sleep.”
Gabriella squeezed her hand a final time. “All right?”
“All right,” Ruby replied. “You go get some rest, yourself.”
She joined James at the doorway, and Hartridge took up watch outside the door.
“I’ll wait for the PC to arrive, sir,” he said.
“Thank you, Hartridge.” James gave a grateful nod. “He most likely won’t try anything, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.”
But that’s where James was wrong. Gabriella shook her head. “He might very well try. It would be a boost to his ego to get into a hospital and kill her.”
James followed her down the corridor toward the lifts, his gaze sharp on her face. “It would make no sense.”
“It makes sense to him, because you bested him today. Stole his prey. You better watch your own back, James. He will be as angry with you as he was with Ruby Everett.”
“You seem very sure,” James said.
She lifted a shoulder as they waited for the lift to reach their floor. “I turned around and looked into his face on Saturday morning, and I looked into his face again earlier today. It isn’t about sense to him. It’s about power and control.”
And right now, Mr. Knife had neither.
chapterthirty-five
He tookher home and waited while she went to take a bath. The bathroom was located at the far end of the passage, and she said how pleased she’d been when she took the flat that she only had to share it with one other person.
It meant she was vulnerable, though. Coming and going from her room. He took one of the chairs from her little table and set it in the doorway of her flat, flipping through a book he found on her shelf, a fantasy novel with a saga-like plot.
When he heard footsteps on the stairs he rose to his feet, but it was Jerome who emerged from the stairwell.
“Wotcha,” he said, with a nod. “Gabby all right?”
James hesitated.
“She’s not?” Jerome’s gaze went to the bathroom, where the sound of running water was clear.
“She had another run-in with . . .” He didn’t want to call him either Mr. Big or Mr. Knife. He wanted to call him something else. “With the suspect.”
Jerome flinched. “Not the one we caught this morning?”
“No. His boss.”
“I need to tell Solomon,” Jerome said. “He’s called the boys back a bit, since we caught t’other one, you know?”
James gave a nod. It wasn’t regulation, but Solomon’s eyes on the street would be a good thing to have. “No one should approach him, though. He’s dangerous.”