Page 19

T he late afternoon sun spread an ethereal glow across the London sky as Samantha left St. George’s with Adrian.

Considering what they had learned, she knew they would not be returning home yet.

So she wasn’t the least bit surprised when Adrian told their driver to take them to Doctor Islington’s place of business.

Despite a bit of congestion on Regent Street, they made good time, arriving at the doctor’s home in less than twenty minutes. They alighted as soon as the carriage stopped, and approached Islington’s door. Samantha gave it a firm rap and waited to see if someone would answer.

She shared a knowing look with Adrian when no one arrived, and made another attempt. Still no response.

“Shall we let ourselves in?” she asked after checking to make sure the street was empty of any potential onlookers. A quick nod from Adrian had her reaching for one of her hairpins. She worked the lock without difficulty, granting them entry in under a minute.

They stepped inside and closed the door before taking quick stock of the house’s interior.

It was just as sparsely furnished as Preordian’s home, lacking all hints of personal effects or other clues to the man who’d run his practice from here.

And like Preordian, everything suggested that Islington too had abandoned his post in haste.

“Another end to our trail,” Samantha said with a sigh once she’d finished conducting a search of the premises. Once again, she’d come up empty-handed.

“Not entirely.” Crouched in front of the fireplace in what had been Islington’s study, Adrian glanced toward her. “Though it’s happening slowly, we are collecting some crucial facts. For instance, we’re now able to say with some degree of certainty that we’re looking for more than one individual.”

“At least two physicians,” she agreed. “Mr. Booker was operated on, so there’s a reasonable explanation for his death.

Anything could have gone wrong, especially if it were done by a physician instead of a surgeon.

But what about Polly Griffin? We know there were traces of laudanum and various herbs in her stomach, but she wasn’t operated on, so it’s unlikely for this to be a case of physicians trying to hone their skills on live subjects. ”

“Agreed.” Adrian stood and Samantha saw that he held the remains of a burnt scrap of card between his fingers.

“This may prove useful. Although there’s no complete writing on here, there is a partial stamp.

If we can recreate the rest of it somehow, we might have a trail to follow since Islington surely tried to destroy this for good reason. ”

It wasn’t much to go on. In truth, discovering whom the card had belonged to would be near impossible when all they had were the top parts of a few letters.

Disheartened, Samantha returned to the carriage with Adrian. Preordian and Islington were both in the wind. Finding them would prove a challenge. What they needed were some substantial clues, but it seemed as though the villains were constantly one step ahead.

“We have to approach this matter with greater discretion,” she said as they travelled to Bow Street once more.

All she truly wanted was to return home and take a hot bath, but Adrian’s point about sharing the information they’d gleaned with Kendrick had merit.

“Kendrick inadvertently warned Preordian, who must have notified Islington.”

“Unless it was us,” Adrian said, his voice dark. “Our showing up at the hospital, asking questions about Mr. Booker, could have had the same result.”

“If that’s the case, then that would mean Islington had an informant inside St. George’s and that we’re dealing with more than two people.” She tried to grapple with what this implied before asking, “Do you think it could be Ashburry?”

“I’ll not dismiss the idea since the man did vanish for a while when we noted Mr. Booker’s disappearance. He would easily have had the time required to send word to Islington.”

“The nurse at the front desk would have had more,” Samantha pointed out, though she hated the possibility of Mrs. Burns being involved in any of this.

“So would anyone else who learned of our reason for being there. Or the individual responsible for Mr. Booker’s death.

I’m still convinced he was killed. Not during the surgery, but after.

Let’s not forget he was left for dead, only to turn up alive and then truly die before he was able to speak of what happened. It’s highly suspicious.”

“Hopefully, Fellowes will offer more insight once he’s had a chance to examine the body.” Samantha prayed this would be the case because it honestly felt as though they were floundering at the moment. What they needed was something concrete to sink their teeth into.

Daylight was dimming by the time they reached Bow Street.

Unlike their previous visit, they were promptly shown to Kendrick’s office this time.

The chief constable wasn’t alone, nor did he look the least bit amused.

Indeed, there was a heavy degree of irritation about him, which Samantha supposed was thanks to Miss Hastings’s presence.

Both parties were seated with Kendrick’s desk between them. Relief washed over Kendrick’s face when he spotted his guests, suggesting he was happy to escape the conversation he’d been having by whatever means necessary.

He pushed away his chair and stood. “Welcome back.”

Miss Hastings turned her head toward Samantha, allowing her to spot the fire that burned in the brunette’s intelligent eyes.

It faded a little when the woman and Kendrick shared a look and was further diminished by a forced smile.

An expression that sent a flash of humor through Samantha and caused her to wonder what these two had been discussing.

Stifling a grin, she greeted Miss Hastings and Kendrick, then kept silent while her husband relayed their reason for stopping by.

“Didn’t I say you were foolish to show Preordian your hand?” Miss Hastings asked once Adrian had finished talking.

Kendrick stiffened. For a second, Samantha worried the otherwise calm chief constable might explode. But then he rolled his shoulders, and it was as though he hadn’t a care in the world. His feathers had certainly not been ruffled by his assistant’s critical comment.

“I’ll have information on both Preordian and Islington released at once, along with a request for them to be apprehended and turned over to Bow Street.” Kendrick grabbed his cheroot box and flicked it open. To Miss Hastings he said, “Don’t start.”

She drew a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to utter a word.”

Kendrick stared at her for a long moment, then muttered something unintelligible before crossing to the window and pulling it open. He sent her a sharp look. “Happy?”

“As content as a child left alone with a jar of biscuits.” Despite the mocking smile she sent his way, there was also something else—a distinct hint of amusement that said she was having a marvelous time getting under Kendrick’s skin.

“I’ve looked into the disappearance of the Capron maid you mentioned, Croft.”

“And?” Adrian asked when Kendrick paused to pull smoke into his lungs.

Kendrick blew the smoke toward the ceiling, hesitated briefly, then gestured toward a stack of files on his desk.

“Turns out she’s been missing for well over a year.

I managed to track down her beau, who went missing around the same time.

Not because anything happened to him but because he feared he’d be blamed for her death. ”

“He told you she’s dead?”

“No, but he’s certain she must be or else she’d have sent word to her family.”

“With this in mind, I’m inclined to believe these cases must be connected,” Adrian said. “When did this woman vanish?”

“Her name is Miss Jones,” Kendrick told them, “and she went missing over a year ago.”

“Good lord” The horror of how long this villain had been allowed to roam free dug its talons into Samantha’s flesh.

Kendrick nodded and set his cheroot to his lips once more. The paper wrapped around the tobacco crackled as he took a deep breath. “I believe there may have been additional victims too, based on a few more reports I’ve reviewed. At least two.”

“Making the total number of casualties thus far seven, possibly more?” Adrian sounded as appalled as Samantha felt.

No. It was worse than appalled. This was a kind of fury mixed with despair. If they didn’t stop this monster, he would without doubt strike again. And what of the poor souls who’d already perished?

Samantha reached for Adrian’s hand and gave it a squeeze. They would hunt down this individual with the same methodical reasoning that had helped them catch Clive Newton and Benjamin Lawrence. And once they did…

“There’s a predatory gleam in yours eyes,” Kendrick said with a frown.

“If I may offer you both a piece of advice, divest yourselves of any notion you may have of acting out your own kind of justice. Luck was on your side once. There’s no guarantee it will be next time.

So have a care and spare a thought for those of us who stuck our necks out for you. ”

“Of course,” Adrian murmured. “We’ll be sure to keep you informed of any additional clues we discover so you can catch your man.”

“Or woman,” Miss Hastings said.

Everyone glanced at her but it was Samantha who pressed the issue. “Woman?”

Miss Hastings showed no discomfort whatsoever over being asked to explain. Utterly calm, she said, “I see no reason why our villain must be a man. Indeed, women are too often underestimated, but that does not prevent us from being capable of the same things as men.”

“Ordinarily I would agree,” Kendrick said, surprising Samantha. And everyone else judging from the number of raised eyebrows. “However, it seems unlikely when bearing in mind the connection to the medical field.”