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Unwilling to admit that he’d not paid attention to one damn word, Peter made a show of casually leaning back in his chair. He picked up the cheroot he’d taken from his case earlier and savored the look of annoyance that filled her expression. “Go on.”

Lips flat and posture stiff, Miss Hastings watched him light up and take a long drag. He released the smoke in a slow exhalation and deliberately arched an eyebrow.

“You’re insufferable,” Miss Hastings complained.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. My office, my rules.” Pinning her with his gaze, he leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk. “I hope your objection to this won’t prevent you from doing your job.”

“Of course not.” The words were spoken through gritted teeth.

Peter smiled and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure of having ruffled her feathers. If she was going to put him on edge with those tempting curves and lush lips, then he’d do the same in the only way he knew how.

She cleared her throat and allowed herself a moment in which to collect her thoughts. Spine straight, she folded her hands in her lap. “As I was saying, bodies were disposed of. Miss Griffin was found in the Thames. Mr. Booker was discovered in an alley by those who brought him to the hospital.”

“In other words, they were moved from the place in which they were treated,” Peter muttered.

He set his cheroot to his lips once more and inhaled the rich flavor.

Miss Hastings fanned the resulting smoke away with her hand while he continued pursuing the point she was trying to make.

“An impossible task for a man of Wentworth’s size to accomplish alone, I reckon. ”

“Exactly.” Miss Hastings finally stood and went to open the window.

“You’re letting cold air in,” Peter complained.

Instead of responding she said, “Either Wentworth had an accomplice or someone else killed those people.”

“We mustn’t forget about Islington or Preordian.

” Peter placed his cheroot in an ashtray, rose from his chair, and approached Miss Hastings, who’d remained by the window, his intention being to close it.

“Their involvement is clear. Perhaps they did more than simply provide the patients Wentworth sought.”

“That’s certainly a possibility worth considering.”

For some peculiar reason, her agreement made him extremely aware of their close proximity.

She hadn’t moved while he’d made his approach, as though she’d been hell-bent on standing her ground.

He scanned her face and noted the flush in her cheeks before leaning past her, his arm brushing hers as he turned.

The brief contact sent an electric charge through his body. He sucked in a breath and closed the window, refusing to let himself dwell on it further. When he turned, Miss Hastings was glaring at him as though he were a criminal who’d just attacked her.

He stepped back. “I’m going to visit Wentworth’s home. See if I can find additional evidence of his guilt. In the meantime, it would help if you’re able to map the data we have so far.”

She beamed at him. “Of course.”

A resulting warmth spread through his chest. Idiocy . He cleared his throat. “Do what you can to have it ready when I get back.”

She nodded and he started turning away, but paused when she said, “Wherever these experiments happened, it would have required access and seclusion. An abandoned room underneath one of the hospitals could provide such a location.”

Peter agreed. “An excellent observation, Miss Hastings.”

Her entire face turned a bright shade of red. “Thank you, Mr. Kendrick.”

“I’ll make arrangements for a thorough search to commence in the morning. Beginning with St. George’s.”

He headed for the door but stopped when Miss Hastings asked, “Do you mind if I join you tomorrow?”

“Any particular reason?” Though he didn’t want to deny her outright, he hoped to find a way to dissuade her.

These brief meetings between them were one thing. Working in close proximity for an entire day would be a distraction. For reasons he could not explain, the annoying woman muddled his head. As such, he feared she might also cloud his judgement.

“Maybe I’ll notice something important.” She worried her lip, then added, “I just think I’ll be more useful on the scene than if I remain here.”

He ought to have known she’d make another great point. Convincing her she was wrong would only make him look like a fool. Or like the sort of man who dismissed smart individuals on account of their sex.

Since he didn’t want her to think he was either of those things, and possibly because he agreed with her reasoning, he nodded. “Be ready to leave here by eight.”

* * *

Gabriella Hastings left Chief Constable Kendrick’s office and walked the short distance back to her desk near the front of the Bow Street Magistrate’s Court.

An odd sensation accompanied her. It wasn’t merely the buoyant feeling of being acknowledged for her capabilities or of gaining her superior’s agreement.

There was something more to it than that.

Something new and unfamiliar she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

What she did know was that she found Chief Constable Kendrick’s manner incredibly vexing.

Ordinarily, she prided herself on being non-confrontational and calm.

Not even with her siblings did she enter into heated discussions.

Feelings of frustration and anger were best avoided in her opinion, but Kendrick seemed determined to rile her.

The man made her fingers twitch with a deep desire to snatch his blasted cheroot from between his lips and stomp it out.

She reached her desk, her cheeks still hot and the skin beneath her dress prickly.

Yet despite her best efforts, she could not blame it on his smoking alone.

Or on the praise he’d offered by agreeing with her opinion.

Indeed, her real discomfort had started when he’d brushed his arm against hers as he’d turned to close the window.

The action had thrown her completely off balance. She’d scarcely been able to master her thoughts in the moments immediately after. Even now, the reminder caused her stomach to churn in the same way it tended to do whenever she faced a new challenge.

Intent on regaining control of her body, she grabbed her notebook.

Jotting down everything she recalled from Doctor Wentworth’s testimony while it was still fresh in her mind would provide her with her own record.

A valuable tool she could build on later while trying to make her own deductions regarding the crime.

For although clues pointed to Wentworth, Gabriella was not yet convinced he’d done it. And if she was right, then the killer not only remained on the loose, but there was a chance he might strike again.