Page 39 of A Silence in Belgrave Square (Below Stairs #8)

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Parker said smartly, and gave orders to others in the office.

McGregor snapped his attention to Sergeant Scott. “Those Lofthouse people, were they detained in Dover?”

“They were, sir,” Sergeant Scott answered. “But as they’d committed no obvious crime, they have consulted solicitors and are talking about bringing suit against the police.”

McGregor sprang to his feet. “Wire the Dover constabulary and have the Lofthouses arrested for conspiracy to commit a felony and transferred here to me. And bring in any of the others Lord Peyton met with.” As Inspector McGregor started around the desk, his gaze fell on me, as though he’d forgotten my presence. “Where’s McAdam?” he demanded of me.

“I haven’t seen him since Monday evening,” I said truthfully.

“Get him in here,” he told Sergeant Scott. “And you. ” Inspector McGregor pointed a thick finger at me. “Take yourself home, stay there , and cease interfering in police business.”

I regarded him without alarm. “You’re welcome, Inspector.”

Inspector McGregor growled something ungentlemanly at me, and I decided the best thing to do was to scuttle past him and out of his office.

Once outside in the courtyard, I drew a breath, and then coughed. Someone was burning paper or some such nearby, and smoke coated the air.

I went around the corner of the brick building and nearly ran straight into Daniel.

He steadied me as I rocked on my feet, hands planted on my shoulders. “Sergeant Parker tells me you solved the case.” Daniel gazed at me with a mixture of exasperation and admiration. “That Lord Peyton’s cronies are being rounded up as we speak.”

Daniel’s touch helped my usual composure return. “I would not say I solved anything. The situation is much more complicated, I am certain. I simply found something in Lord Peyton’s house that was overlooked. Even by you,” I could not resist adding.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Found it where ?”

“In the cushion of his wheeled chair. You’d never have got past Fagan to search it, so do not blame yourself.”

“No, I mean…” Daniel took a deep breath. “What were you doing in Peyton’s house at all?”

“I was holding a séance to speak to the spirit of the departed Lord Peyton,” I said. “Though it wasn’t much of a séance—no candles or knocking or anything of that nature.”

“You were holding a séance.” The words were quiet and careful.

“Yes, at Lady Fontaine’s invitation. Hannah recommended me.”

Daniel released me to put both hands to his forehead and draw them down his face.

“You were—” He broke off. “Kat Holloway, you’ll be the death of me.”

“It was a good job I did go, or we’d not have warning of explosions planned for tomorrow.

When Inspector McGregor questions Fagan, have him ask what Lord Peyton could have seen out his window on Sunday night that frightened him so much.

I doubt that his neighbor with an unloaded shotgun could burn fear through him, so there must have been something else. ”

Daniel regarded me, dumbfounded. “What am I to do with you, Kat?”

“Never mind about me. Make certain Inspector McGregor asks the question.”

Daniel pulled off his cap, crumpled it in his hand, then smoothed it out and returned it to his head. I could not express how much happiness filled me watching him do such ordinary things.

“Monaghan might intercept the lot of them and lock them in a deep cellar,” Daniel warned. “Preventing McGregor questioning them at all. I’ll do my best to prevent that.”

“I don’t believe Fagan is guilty of anything but devotion to his master,” I said. “Even if he was a villain in the past.”

“You might be right, but Fagan’s head could hold all sorts of useful things.” Daniel peered at me. “Why are you so taken with him, if you only met him today? I assume you only met him today,” he finished darkly.

“Because he wept with genuine sorrow.” I recalled how the big man had shuddered with sobs.

“Not remorse or guilt, but true grief. I think he loved Lord Peyton, or at least felt immense gratitude toward him. Yes, I met Fagan for the first time today, but one can tell much by how another reacts to a loss.”

“I suppose,” Daniel said dubiously. “Very well, I’ll be gentle with him, if he lets us.”

“Lady Fontaine cried as well,” I continued, “but more for nostalgia of the old days, I think, plus worry for what’s to become of her.

In my opinion, someone should be sent to talk to her and let her natter, as Mr.Fielding’s man said she likes to do.

Lady Fontaine could be a mine of information, even if she is not aware of the fact. ”

Daniel’s eyes began to twinkle. “Can you wait while I fetch a large sheet of paper and write all this down?”

“Don’t be daft. Now, please tell Inspector McGregor I will toddle home as he bade, after I finish my day out with Grace. I’ll not keep myself from her any longer. Now that the police are forewarned, they can keep a lookout.”

I half expected Daniel to continue expressing his exasperation with me, but instead he seized me and crushed me into an embrace.

The scents of warm wool and Daniel filled me, making me want to be nowhere but here, even if the yard was smoky and constables milled around us.

“It was well done,” he whispered into my ear. “You will confound the lot of them.”

I wasn’t certain whether he meant the Fenians or the police, but I returned his hug with a tight one of my own.

“Take care, my dearest friend,” I said. “I couldn’t bear it if you came to harm.”

We held each other for another moment, then Daniel released me with every show of reluctance. He brushed gloved fingers along my cheek.

“Go on to Grace,” he said. “I’ll come to you when I can.”

“And you will tell me everything ,” I said emphatically. “Leaving out no detail.”

“As though you’d let me.” Daniel bathed me in his warm smile. “A candlelit evening with Kat Holloway. My greatest pleasure.”

My face warmed. “With the best of my scones, you mean. Or cakes, or tarts. You will have to wait and see which one it is.”

“I look forward to it, my dear Mrs.Holloway.”

“It will be my pleasure, Mr.McAdam.”

* * *

I started off to Cheapside to finish what was left of the afternoon with Grace. There was not a hansom to be had at this busy time of day, so I strode along the Strand, anticipation propelling my steps.

Not until I crossed Farringdon Street and entered Ludgate Hill did I realize my danger. As I passed a narrow lane, hands seized me and two men half dragged, half shoved me from the main street into a tiny passageway filled with shadow.

They tore my handbag from my arm and thrust me face-first into a brick wall.