Page 100 of A Whisper and a Curse

The captain’s shoulders dipped as he let out a breath. “Thank you, Miss Wren.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Tilda stood. “You must excuse us as we’ve leads to follow in the investigation.”

The captain rose. “Of course. I’m staying at a house in Woodbridge Street in Clerkenwell. It’s associated with Thaddeus’s club.”

“We attended a séance there the other night,” Tilda said, her expression flickering with surprise. “It was the home of one of the mediums who was killed.”

“Thaddeus told me that, but he said it was the best place he could offer me to stay that would keep me away from the club, as I prefer that.” Captain Vale gave Tilda a grateful smile. “Can I expect to hear from you later?”

“Yes, I’ll call with a report on my progress. I appreciate your faith in me.”

The captain took his leave, and Tilda eyed Hadrian with a bit of wariness. “Are you upset that I accepted his offer?”

“Not at all,” Hadrian said firmly. “I am glad you did. I am trying to see past my dislike of the man’s son to reasonably determine if he is guilty of these crimes. You are correct that more evidence is needed.”

“Precisely.” Tilda set her hat atop her red-blonde hair and picked up her gloves. “Rather than start with Bedfordbury, I should like to visit Fleet Street and speak with Mr. Clement about Harmony Smith.”

“After you.” Hadrian gestured for her to precede him. “I confess I did not expect to have to look to that reporter to assist with our investigation.”

“Neither did I,” Tilda said. “But we must take any help where we can.”

They arrived at the offices of theDaily Mailin Fleet Street to discover that Clement was not present. He was, however, in a nearby coffee shop.

Tilda easily spotted Mr. Clement seated at a table next to the wall. He wasn’t wearing a hat, but he was garbed in his typical outrageously hued plaid pants, and today he sported a bright-blue stock as well.

“Over there,” Tilda said, using her head to gesture toward Clement.

“I see him,” Hadrian replied. “The trousers give him away.”

They walked to his table. Clement’s head was bent as he read a newspaper—not theDaily Mail—but he looked up as they approached. Surprise flickered briefly in his gaze before he settled an expectant stare on them. “Ravenhurst, Miss Wren. What brings you to this part of London?”

“You do, Mr. Clement,” Tilda said. “May we sit?”

Clement gestured to the chairs on the other side of the table. “Please.”

Hadrian held Tilda’s chair whilst she sat, then lowered himself beside her.

“You published an interesting article yesterday,” Tilda began.

“Now you want to exchange information?” Clement asked with a smug expression.

“Perhaps,” Tilda said benignly. “Let us see if you know anything of interest.”

Clement leaned forward. “You must suspect I do if you’ve come to find me.”

“I would like to know more about Harmony Smith, as well as who else you spoke with from the London Spiritualism Society. Perhaps we could start with the latter.”

“And what would you offer me?” Clement asked dubiously.

“We’ve just come from Scotland Yard. There has been a new development in the case this morning.”

“Has there?” Clement’s tone was breathless. “Of what nature?”

Tilda gave him a pert look. “I’d like to know who else you spoke with from the society.”

Clement exhaled. “They asked that I not identify them publicly, but I suppose I could share their names with you. It was a pair of siblings—Jacob and Ellen Henry.”

“Thank you. Anyone else?” Tilda asked.