Page 30 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“I’m glad you asked what he looks like. If I see him in a vision, I’ll be better able to recognize him.” Hadrian looked over at her as they walked. “We should visit that pub. To see if anyone there knows Eaton and might have an idea where he went.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Tilda said. “I’d also like to visit the Prudential Assurance Company to find out why they sacked him.” She frowned slightly. “Though I’m concerned about doing too much work as investigators. I don’t want to expose our identities. Word could spread that someone is conducting an investigation.”

“We could visit the Wolf and Dove in our disguises, and I could pretend to be a friend of Eaton’s who’s just moved to the neighborhood.” Hadrian frowned. “Except I don’t have any glue to reapply my hair pieces.”

“Perhaps if you keep your hat pulled down, it won’t matter. It’s not ideal, but at least your clothing is appropriate to your disguise.” She glanced down at the newer garment she was wearing, a dark gray gown. “Unlike mine.”

“I agree that it should be fine this once for the pub, especially at this hour of the day,” Hadrian said. “I don’t expect it will be busy. However, I don’t think I should visit the Prudential Assurance Company without my full disguise.”

“I agree. In fact, it’s probably best if you and I don’t go there at all.” An idea struck her. “I know the perfect person we could ask to make an inquiry.”

Hadrian’s brows elevated briefly. “Who?”

“Ezra Clement.” He was a journalist they’d run into several times during their last investigation. Ultimately, he and Tilda had ended up helping one another and agreeing to perhapsassist each other in the future, should it benefit them. “He might like a story about a corrupt society, if indeed it is corrupt.”

Hadrian’s brows pitched low over his eyes. “Clement would certainly like to write a story about a murder.” He sounded perturbed.

“You don’t like him,” Tilda said.

“I didn’t like that he was going to pester my mother.”

They’d encountered Clement as he’d been about to call on Hadrian’s mother to inquire about her connection to the society of mediums that Tilda and Hadrian were investigating.

“He was only trying to do his job,” Tilda said. “But I agree that he was aggressive. However, I think we’ve come to an understanding about how we may aid one another, and this would be an excellent opportunity to test that.”

“I suppose it could work,” Hadrian allowed. “Before we do anything, you should speak to Maxwell. He’s been clear that this ishisinvestigation.”

“True. I suppose we should also speak with him before visiting the pub, but I don’t want to wait. Let’s return to White Alley and become Beck and Harwood once more.”

“I much prefer us as Ravenhurst and Wren.” Hadrian smirked. “Or Raven and Wren, since my colleagues generally call me Raven. I rather like the pair of birds solving crimes together.”

Tilda blinked at him. “I didn’t realize you had a whimsical nature.”

“I don’t usually. But I’ve changed a great deal since I hit my head on the pavement and acquired an inexplicable power to see things.”

“Blast,” Tilda said softly. “I should have asked you to touch something at the boarding house, since we weren’t able to gain access to Eaton’s room.”

He smiled. “What makes you think I didn’t? Alas, I didn’t see anything.”

“That is unfortunate. But thank you for trying.”

“I’ll try again at the pub,” Hadrian said. “I’m keen to find Eaton. I do feel he’ll be helpful.”

“Particularly now that Phelps has been killed,” Tilda pointed out.

“We aren’t investigating his murder, however.”

Tilda smiled. “As you pointed out earlier, when has that stopped us before?”

CHAPTER 7

After returning to White Alley so Tilda could change her clothing back to that of Mrs. Harwood, Tilda and Hadrian made their way to the Wolf and Dove public house on Gresham Street.

They passed St. Stephen’s Church on Coleman Street. A gate stood partially open to the small graveyard. Hadrian admired the building. “Is it strange to think your ancestor designed that?” Hadrian referred to Tilda’s many times great-grandfather, Christopher Wren, the famous architect.

“Not strange exactly. I do enjoy stepping into his buildings. He rebuilt all the churches that were destroyed by the fire. Is it odd that while I don’t consider myself an overly religious person, I appreciate the architectural beauty of the structures?”

“Not at all,” Hadrian replied. “One might say it’s in your blood.”