Page 42 of Cloaked in Deception (Spencer & Reid Mysteries #4)

Chapter Twenty-Two

L eo lit the lamp on her desk in the morgue’s office, illuminating the sheet of paper in the typewriter she’d been working on.

It wasn’t her account of her conversation with Esther Goodwin and Paula Blickson, as Jasper would no doubt have preferred, but a death certificate.

At least a dozen had been backlogged while she’d been out the last handful of days, helping to solve Martha Seabright’s murder.

Connor, who’d been patient with her absences, would appreciate the certificates being finished when he arrived the next morning.

After leaving the Epoch, Leo had asked Viscount Hayes to bring her to the morgue instead of to Duke Street.

Her limbs had still been trembling after the tumultuous events at the theatre, but the notion of going home to rest had made her even more jittery.

The viscount, who successfully had pleaded with her to address him as Oliver rather than my lord , dropped her off at the Spring Street Morgue.

“I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss Spencer,” he’d said while handing her out of the hansom cab.

She’d been puzzled. “For what offense?” He’d been nothing but gracious since leaving the Epoch and had thanked her for her help in locating George. But a reticent expression had crossed his face just the same.

“I misjudged you,” he said.

“How so?”

Oliver cringed in embarrassment, and Leo braced herself, suddenly uncomfortable. “I considered you to be…somewhat…odd.”

“Oh.” His blatant confession made her grin. “You weren’t entirely wrong. I am a little odd. I must be, I suppose, to enjoy working here.” She’d gestured toward the morgue’s entrance.

But Oliver shook his head. “No, I now understand what Jasper meant when he said your temperament is different from that of other women. Your nature is quite admirable. “

“He said that?” She wanted to know when, and what more he’d had to say about her, but Oliver had only smiled and tipped his hat before returning to the cab.

Inside the morgue, the quiet stillness had been a balm to her senses.

It was all over. Martha Seabright’s killer, as well as Nurse Charlotte Radcliff’s, had been caught.

The mystery surrounding Edward Seabright’s supposed death as an infant was solved.

And George Hayes was home with his family—even if he was now aware of all the secrets Stanley and Melanie Hayes had kept from him.

They had much to repair, and Leo didn’t envy them the hardships that still lay ahead.

She felt a distinct dip in her spirits when she considered that the case was now closed.

Of course, she was relieved. Jasper had made the necessary arrests, which would surely boost his standing at the CID.

He had needed that victory, especially after the reprimands he’d received the last many months—mostly because of her.

That she’d played a role in solving this case but would not receive credit for her assistance didn’t bother her.

Leo didn’t need it the way Jasper did. Even Oliver’s praise, though kind and thoughtful, had not been necessary.

It hadn’t filled her with triumph—unlike how she felt when misaligned pieces of information finally came together and made sense.

It was the act of answering a question, of solving a crime, or of bringing about justice that gave Leo a sense of contentedness. Not the acclaim that came afterward.

It was time to return her focus to the morgue.

She fixed herself a pot of tea at the cottage range and got to work on the pile of folders and papers that Connor had left for her on her desk.

If she was to be his assistant, she’d best not fall behind in her duties.

She worked diligently, stopping only to let Tibia outside for a short caper.

Rather than pausing to make a fresh pot of hot tea, she drank the cooled dregs of the first one.

She was pulling the final certificate from the platen when the grating chime of the front door’s bell reached her in the office.

As it was Sunday, the front door was locked, and the morgue closed to new corpses.

But when the bell rang again, Leo set down the completed files, crossed the postmortem room to enter the lobby, and answered the door.

“Miss Hayes,” she said after staring at the caller for a baffled moment.

Constance stood on the narrow portico, her fashionable Gainsborough hat angled in such a way that her face was partially blocked from passersby on the street. Visiting a morgue was not reputable, and by all appearances, she was alone.

Leo stepped aside to allow her in, and she entered with all haste.

“I didn’t know to expect you,” Leo said as she closed the door.

“I wasn’t sure I would call.” Constance held herself rigidly, as many people did when entering a morgue. Being near corpses unnerved many, and not just women.

“Oliver told me he brought you here,” she went on. “I was on my way to see Jasper and thought I’d stop by and see if you were still in.”

Leo couldn’t imagine why Constance would wish to speak to her. They remained standing in the lobby, the next few seconds drawn and awkward.

“Has Jasper summoned you for an interview?” Leo asked, breaking the silence.

“No, I have some materials my mother believed Jasper should have. Letters.”

To Martha Seabright from Caroline Radcliff, Leo imagined. Mrs. Hayes must have discovered them inside Martha’s home and taken them.

Another few moments ticked by in which Leo remained uncertain why Constance had come. “Is everything all right with George?” she tried next.

“He’s fine.” She clasped her gloved hands together and tensed her arms. “George is exhausted but safe. Mother and Father are beside themselves with relief. It’s an ugly business, of course. I’m sure once it all gets out, we’ll be skewered in the gossip pages.”

She referred to her brother’s adoption. The police reports would not gloss over the motive for Martha’s murder, nor George’s kidnapping, and the information would make its way into more than just the gossip pages.

The scrutiny would be severe. Leo doubted the Hayes family would stay in London to weather it.

“I don’t wish to sound rude,” Leo said after waiting for Constance to speak again. “But is there something I can do for you, Miss Hayes?”

“You can accept my gratitude,” she answered swiftly.

Though she was visibly uncomfortable, she held her chin proudly.

“I know Oliver has already offered his thanks, and I want you to know I’m not so bitter that I cannot be grateful to you for your part in my brother’s safe return.

I have been made aware that you played a significant role in making that come to pass. ”

Stunned, Leo wasn’t sure how to respond. Constance had come here just to say thank you?

“I…I’m glad I could help,” she finally replied, though it seemed inadequate. “But I’m not sure I understand—why would I think you are bitter?”

She and Constance had never gotten on, but it had seemed like she disliked Leo more than usual yesterday when they’d met.

Then again, Leo had been questioning Mr. Hayes and unearthing a painful secret that probably had changed the way Constance viewed her whole family.

Perhaps that was what she was referring to.

But then, with a scoff, the other woman’s stare grew incisive again.

“Truly, Miss Spencer? You cannot imagine why, after Jasper called off our courtship because of his feelings for you, I might dislike you?”

She stared at Constance, dumbstruck. Jasper had ended their courtship in May, but he’d never been explicit about the reason why other than he didn’t want to marry her. It shouldn’t have surprised Leo, not really. Deep down, she suspected that he must have cared for her for some time.

“He is in love with you.” Constance stated it casually without an ounce of emotion. It gave Leo another unexpected jolt.

This time, however, she knew exactly how to respond. “Jasper isn’t in love with me.”

He had kissed her. Ardently, yes, and not just a chaste peck, but surely, that wasn’t so out of the ordinary. He’d asked her to dinner, too. Neither of those things were declarations of love. I care for you . That was what he’d declared. Not love.

However, the burst of pleasure it gave Leo to consider he might feel that for her nearly lifted her feet from the floor.

Constance only shook her head and pressed her lips into a disheartened grin. “Do open your eyes, Miss Spencer. As I can no longer bring myself to hate you, I have no wish to see you trip and fall on your face.”

She went to the door and let herself out, leaving Leo to stare after her, her mind spinning.

Jasper closed the door to the interview room, glad to be finished. He’d spent the last few hours questioning Felix Goodwin, his mother, and Paula Blickson. At the close of each interview, he’d felt like punching a wall.

Felix had no remorse for what he’d done; he was an actor, and yet he hadn’t even tried to make a show of it. When Jasper pressed him on the killing of Martha Seabright, a smug grin twitched the man’s lips, as if the memory of her death amused him.

“She was a bitter old whore who deserved worse than she got,” he’d said with simple finality.

After delivering Leo to the morgue, Oliver Hayes had come to the Yard.

He’d explained the finer details of his uncle’s underhanded adoption of Edward Seabright, including how Martha had continued to blackmail him over the years.

Everything Jasper knew about Martha led him to believe that she was, indeed, a despicable woman. But Felix Goodwin was no better.

“And Nurse Radcliff?” Jasper had queried. “Did Paula send you to kill her?”

“Paula?” He’d sniffed dismissively. “All she cared about was getting Edward back. When her conniving mother told her everything, she came to us.”