Page 2 of A Whisper in the Shadows
“That doesn’t sound like fraud to me,” Hadrian observed.
“It sounds like a dispute over what really happened,” Tilda said.
The inspector pressed his lips together. “In addition to the potential discrepancy in the eligibility of benefits, the woman’s husband was ill when he joined the society. I find it suspect that he was admitted since he was showing symptoms of consumption.”
Tilda’s curiosity was pricked, as was her sense that something wasn’t right. “It’s suspicious that a man who was ill was admitted to the societyandthat he was told he wouldbe eligible for benefits in six months if the society’s policy is actually one year.”
“Precisely,” the inspector said with a nod. “Sergeant Kilgore—his wife is the cousin of the widow—assigned an inspector to investigate. Inspector Dolen found that the deceased member of the society, Gilbert Cardy, had been recruited by a canvasser soliciting members when the society first began. However, Dolen wasn’t able to locate the canvasser, Timothy Eaton, and the society’s chair, Walter Phelps, said he left his post last week.”
“Was Eaton committing fraud?” Hadrian asked. “What would be his motive for doing so?”
“That is what we must determine,” Maxwell replied. “What fraud, if any, was perpetrated, why, and by whom?”
“Have you been assigned to this case along with Inspector Dolen?” Tilda asked.
“Sergeant Kilgore decided someone should investigate from within the society. The administrators of the society said they’d shared all they knew and did not appreciate Inspector Dolen causing a scandal over what amounted to a clerical error by an employee who no longer worked for the society.”
“That doesn’t sound evasive,” Tilda quipped with a half-smile.
“Precisely.” Maxwell nodded. “Inspector Dolen did not believe the society administrators were entirely cooperative. Sergeant Kilgore wants a thorough investigation of the society and thinks it can best be done under disguise. Since the society already knows Dolen, Kilgore assigned me to the case.”
It all sounded rather suspect to Tilda. “I’m trying to determine why the society would accept members who are ill. In the case of this man who died of consumption, they don’t have to pay the benefit because it has not been a year.” Tilda met Hadrian’s gaze and then the inspector’s. “Is that the scheme?The society accepted members who they gambled would die in the first year and thus they wouldn’t have to pay out?”
Maxwell smiled. “You are quite clever, Miss Wren. That is indeed my suspicion. My plan is to join the society in disguise to ferret out this information. I am hoping you will pretend to be my wife. Your presence will make me appear stable, and you will be able to assist with the investigation.”
Tilda was already invested in uncovering the truth of whatever this society was doing. “Our job is to find proof of their fraud. Or at the very least, reveal the reasoning behind admitting members who are ill and may not live long enough to collect their benefits.”
“Exactly so.” Maxwell regarded her with admiration. “I’m already glad I’ve sought your assistance, Miss Wren.”
“I’m intrigued by this case,” Tilda said. “How will our disguises work?”
“I’m delighted to hear it,” the inspector replied with a grin. “I’ve taken a position as a clerk at a mercantile house on Broad Street, where several society members are employed. I have taken lodgings for us to reside in, just off Coleman Street, in White Alley. First, however?—”
“Wait just a moment,” Hadrian interrupted, his dark brows drawn together over his brilliant blue eyes. “You can’t expect Miss Wren to live with you. That would ruin her reputation.”
Maxwell shifted on the settee as he regarded Hadrian. “We would sleep in separate rooms, of course. It is my hope that no one will ever know Miss Wren was a part of the investigation. We will be disguised and using different names.”
Hadrian’s features did not relax. Oddly, Tilda noted she still found him exceptionally handsome with his square jaw and aristocratic cheekbones, despite his vexation. Or perhaps even because of it—the fire in his gaze was most arresting. Even the slight bump in his nose added to his appeal.
“That is all well and good, however, it is still highly improper,” Hadrian said. “Miss Wren is an unmarried woman, and to reside with a gentleman who is not her relative would be an irreparable blemish on her reputation. I am confident she would not wish to risk her future professional prospects by agreeing to such a scheme.”
While Tilda didn’t particularly care about her reputation when it came to marriageability, she absolutely needed to ensure that her professional reputation remained above reproach. It was difficult enough to be a woman investigator.
Still, Tilda could see where it would be most beneficial if she could reside in the City with her pretend husband. It would not only lend credibility to their ruse, but it would also aid her investigation to be in the thick of things.
She looked to Hadrian. “Is there any way I could protect my reputation and still reside in White Alley?”
Hadrian’s lip curled with disdain. His disapproval of her even considering the arrangement was obvious. Tilda had never felt the difference in their positions so keenly. Someone of his rank had the expectation—and the privilege—of propriety. This was a job that would ensure Tilda’s livelihood as well as that of her grandmother and the members of her household, which had grown of late as a result of the first two investigations she’d conducted with Hadrian. Indeed, it could have swelled even further with the last one, but Tilda had put her foot down. They were stretched as thinly as possible. Which was why she could not afford to decline this job, even if she wanted to. And she most certainly didnotwant to.
“You would require a chaperone,” Hadrian replied. “She would need to be someone above reproach, but I still think it’s a risk you oughtn’t take.”
“Duly noted.” Whilst she desperately wanted to disagree with him, she understood the risk to her professional aspirations. Iftaking this job meant she may never have another, there would be no point in it.
“We can work around it.” Maxwell gave Tilda a reassuring smile. “You’ll simply pretend to live there, and we will ensure you are home safe and sound in Marylebone every evening.”
“I suppose that must suffice,” Tilda said, though she was disappointed. “You were going to say something before his lordship interrupted you.”
“I was going to say that I need to be accepted for membership in the Amicable Society. An existing member will need to vouch for me.”