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Adrian stared at the brief missive that culminated with Wrengate’s elaborate signature. “Thank you for your help, Murdoch.”

“Any time.”

After pocketing the letter, Adrian collected his hat, gloves, and greatcoat and returned to his carriage. He couldn’t wait to get home and compare the writing with the one used on the anonymous note he’d received. But first, another matter beckoned.

St. George’s wasn’t far, no more than a mile away at most, yet it took nearly twenty minutes to get there because of the traffic.

According to what Jennings, his coachman, told him later, it appeared to be caused by several carriages, one of which bore the royal insignia.

Based on this, Adrian concluded it had to be the Prince Regent returning from Bath.

A thought he forgot all about when he reached the hospital and spotted a Runner near the main entrance. Kendrick must still be inside then, and since Adrian had no wish to cross paths with him at the moment, he directed his coachman toward the side of the building.

The entrance through here was more convenient anyway, even if he loathed the long hallway that led to the morgue.

Ever since he’d come here to see Evie’s corpse, he’d found the space too confining.

He clenched his fists to distract himself from the hollow echoes produced by the click of his heels even as his pulse began racing.

Despite the cool temperature, a prickly heat spread across his shoulders.

A deep inhale filled his nose with a stale smell that wrought havoc upon his senses. He stopped walking, squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on regaining his shredded composure. It hadn’t been this bad when he’d last come here. Then again, he’d not been alone. Maybe that was the difference.

He shook his head and gritted his teeth, told himself to get on with his task. The sooner he accomplished it, the sooner he could get the hell out of this place. A happy thought that brought him to the door leading into Doctor Fellowes’s workspace.

Adrian prepared to enter when Kendrick’s voice sounded from within. Staying his progress, Adrian paused to listen. It sounded like Kendrick was interviewing Fellowes, but the words were too faint for Adrian to discern the exact nature of each question. Or of the answers Fellowes provided.

It felt as if an eternity passed before Kendrick left. Silence ensued, followed by the sound of tools being shifted about on a metal tray. Adrian glanced inside the space and saw that Fellowes was now alone. He gave the doorjamb a courtesy knock and stepped into the room.

Fellowes raised his gaze and met Adrian’s. A body lay on the table before him covered by a white sheet that had yet to be removed. “Mr. Croft. I wondered when you’d show up again.”

“Really?”

The surgeon snorted and crossed his arms. “It was clear the last time you came here that you suspected a connection between Miss Griffin and Mr. Booker. That you were inclined to believe both were killed by the same individual. The questions Chief Constable Kendrick just asked me suggest he shares this opinion.”

“We’ve been helping each other in our quest for answers.”

“A strange partnership, I’d think, all things considered.”

“Unlike me, he’s in a position to put the villain away for good.”

“Hmm…” It didn’t look like Fellowes believed him for a second. Not that his opinion on this particular aspect mattered. If he believed Adrian planned on hunting down the killer alone so he could issue the kind of punishment the bastard deserved, he’d not be entirely wrong.

Adrian crossed to where Fellowes stood while doing his best not to think of Evie being the person beneath that white sheet.

He shoved his hands in his pocket and turned slightly, enough to remove the corpse from his direct line of vision.

The smell, unfortunately, wasn’t as easy to ignore.

If he could just focus on gathering information, he’d soon be able to leave.

“Any chance you know of a secret organization that meets beneath this very hospital?”

Honestly, it sounded ridiculous. In all likelihood, Melroy had made it up in order to buy himself time.

It was beginning to look increasingly as though he were the guilty party posing as the innocent individual he tried to appear.

In which case, he’d probably gone to the chamber last night in search of something incriminating that he himself had left there or—

“Now that you mention it,” Fellowes said. “I may have an inkling about such a thing.”

Adrian froze. “What?”

“How close are you and Kendrick collaborating on this?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because when he posed the same question, I told him I’d no idea what he was talking about.

” Fellowes arched a brow. “To be clear, I’ve not done anything wrong.

However, with Wentworth and Melroy already in custody, I’d rather not give the chief constable reason to think I might be connected to these crimes. ”

“I understand your position completely.” Adrian held Doctor Fellowes’s gaze. “What can you tell me about these clandestine meetings?”