Page 43 of Cloaked in Deception (Spencer & Reid Mysteries #4)
“You and Esther Goodwin,” Sergeant Warnock clarified as he was taking notes at the table. Lewis would have usually sat in with Jasper during these interviews, but the young sergeant needed more training now that he’d earned a promotion.
“Yes,” Felix answered with a sneer. In his arrogance, he appeared to hold himself up above all others; it was what had given him license to do as he pleased. “Paula told us it was Nurse Radcliff who sold my son. How was I to know the old lady wouldn’t be the same one from back then?”
As Jasper was concluding the interview, he realized how little it would have meant to Felix to kill the woman he’d abducted from the dinner.
He could have pulled Leo from the coach in Battersea Park and shot her dead right there.
It chilled Jasper to his bones, enraging him to the point of feeling ill.
“Why did you allow Miss Spencer to walk away?” he asked just as a pair of constables arrived to escort the prisoner to a Newgate Prison cell. There was ample evidence against him to secure a conviction and, undoubtedly, an execution.
The man had only smirked. Holding the detective inspector’s stare, he seemed to know how Jasper felt for the woman in question and the power he’d held in his hands for that short amount of time.
“Luckily for Miss Spencer, I’d already shocked my mates enough for one evening. Had I done for her, more than just one of them would have turned on me.”
The one who had, Harold Yardley, had been among the four actors at the Epoch who agreed to join their manager for the planned benefit dinner robbery in exchange for a cut of the profits.
The sixth actor, Philip Green, had been picked up by constables at a pub he was known to haunt, and he’d cracked under the slightest pressure.
The theatre had been struggling, he’d explained, their jobs at risk.
When fenced, the jewels they stole would provide a nice payday.
But the other actors, for whom Jasper now had names and addresses, hadn’t known the job would involve a cold-blooded murder and an abduction by their leader.
They’d been too nervous afterward to go out and fence any of the jewelry.
In the interview with Esther Goodwin, which Jasper had conducted while allowing Felix time to stew, she’d admitted to visiting a few pawnshops and posing as a wealthy widow who had fallen on hard times.
The very same widow described by the pawnbroker at the jewelry shop Jasper had visited, it turned out.
Esther had also described Harold Yardley’s agitation the night of the robbery when the troupe returned to the theatre.
He’d made comments that, to Esther’s ears, sounded as though he was considering turning traitor.
She’d followed him the next morning, curious as to what he planned, and when, low and behold, he’d gone to her nephew Gavin Seabright’s lodgings, she decided to have a word with him.
She entered Mrs. Beardsley’s home through the back, and when she confronted Harold, or Harry as he’d introduced himself to Gavin, their discussion turned into an altercation.
Esther’s only regret appeared to be not leaving London the moment she and Paula rendezvoused with George at Holland Park, which abutted Hayes Manor.
The boy had been willing, even eager, to leave, Esther claimed.
This matched what Paula had told Jasper during her interview, on the carriage ride to Scotland Yard.
After meeting George at that auspicious dinner at the Hayes home, Paula confessed to hiring a private detective to dig into the circumstances surrounding the boy’s birth.
The detective, having bribed one of the family’s more amenable servants, learned of the hushed-up adoption.
Now certain that the boy was her lost child, Edward, Paula contacted George directly, sending a letter that was delivered by that same servant who’d been previously bribed.
From there, mother and son struck up a correspondence.
George had always known he was different from his parents and sister, and after overhearing whispered gossip from servants well before he first met Paula, he’d known that, biologically speaking, he was not a true Hayes.
He was excited, Paula claimed, to meet his mother.
Their matching moles, the striking similarities in their appearances, convinced him easily.
Jasper also presumed the secrecy of their correspondence might have thrilled the thirteen-year-old boy too.
When Stanley set out for Hampshire abruptly the day after the benefit dinner, George sensed something was wrong.
Paula received a message from him, posted from Hayes Manor, explaining that his father was taking him back to Hampshire.
She’d replied with instructions to meet her in the southeast corner of Holland Park, just past midnight. George had complied.
Esther regretted that she and Paula hadn’t disappeared with George right then.
But Felix was still in Twickenham on his mission to kill Nurse Radcliff, and he’d also wanted to finish fencing the stolen jewels in order to have as much money in their pockets as possible when they left London.
Pawning all the stolen goods at one shop would have been too suspicious.
So, they had done it by piecemeal but not fast enough, it would seem.
With the delay, Esther had resorted to giving George small doses of laudanum to keep him from changing his mind and trying to return home.
“You look done in, Reid,” Chief Inspector Coughlan said in greeting as Jasper entered the DCI’s office.
It was getting late, and the chief was putting on his greatcoat to leave for the evening.
News of the arrests had rumbled through the detective department, and Jasper had already been the recipient of a few pats on the back from passing officers.
Now, for what might have been the first time since his appointment as detective inspector with the Met, Chief Coughlan leveled Jasper with a smile. Teeth and all. It was highly unnerving.
“Well done, lad, well done,” he said, reaching for his hat. “I’m meeting the commissioner and Sir Eamon for dinner. They’ll both be thoroughly pleased with how you’ve handled these cases. You will turn next to recovering the stolen jewelry from Sir Eamon’s dinner guests, of course?”
“Yes, sir, constables will be sent out in the morning.” In his boastful manner, Felix had revealed the names of the shops where he’d fenced a few of the items. Jasper was confident that Leo’s pearls would be found, and he envisioned the pleasure on her face when he was able to return them to her.
“It’s terrible about Stanley Hayes, of course,” Coughlan continued.
“The correspondence his daughter brought in proves the infant wasn’t stolen, so while there is nothing wholly illegal in it, it is exceedingly immoral.
I’ll try to minimize how much gets into the official reports, but…
well, you know how reporters are once they scent blood. Vultures.”
Coughlan understood that no matter how scant or detailed the official report was, there were still plenty of officers who made a habit of selling whatever they knew to reporters to supplement their meager wages.
“Sir, I’ve charged Paula Blickson as an accomplice to murder, theft, and kidnapping,” Jasper said. “But I want to note that she assisted the police in our apprehension of Mr. Goodwin and his mother. I believe some leniency is due her.”
The chief inspector tucked his chin, the folds creasing as he considered Jasper’s request. “Hmm. I suppose I can make a recommendation for leniency. But the woman will have to serve some time in prison. She should be grateful that she won’t swing.”
Jasper nodded and thanked him again; it was the best Paula could hope for now.
“Warnock is doing well, isn’t he?” Coughlan went on in a more jovial tone as he started for the door.
“Yes, he’s coming along,” Jasper agreed. “Still green, but I’m sure he’ll catch on quickly.”
The chief inspector stopped at the door, sharing the threshold with Jasper.
In a much lower voice, he said, “Don’t think I am not aware that Miss Spencer was at the theatre during your arrests of the Goodwins and Mrs. Blickson.
I also know you brought the young woman to a crime scene to identify a body. ”
Jasper tensed. Sodding Warnock . But then, Lewis had told him there were CID officers spying on him for Coughlan. Bringing her to Gavin’s lodging room had been a risk. The gamble hadn’t played out in his favor.
“I know you don’t wish to hear it, sir, but Miss Spencer proved quite valuable in the closing of this case.” He held his breath, prepared for Coughlan’s good mood to evaporate. He kept his stare steady, unflinching.
“Are you telling me that Miss Spencer should be commended, instead of you, Inspector?”
The space between a rock and a hard place was a tight spot indeed. Jasper hesitated but then shook his head. “I only ask that you not view her as an enemy to this department, sir.”
In the past, Coughlan had threatened to give Jasper a demotion or send him to another division if he did not stop associating with Leo and allowing her to run roughshod through his investigations.
Not associating with her wasn’t an option, especially now that he’d made his feelings for her known and not just to Leo.
He’d finally admitted them to himself as well.
It seemed he was also inept at keeping her from any investigation that she took an interest in.
If Coughlan was going to sack him or toss him back to another division, he bloody well ought to do it now. Jasper stopped just short of telling him as much, but he thought his dueling glare might be making it clear.
The chief inspector backed down first. “I won’t view her as an enemy of the CID so long as she doesn’t make a nuisance of herself. Limit her involvement, Reid. I’m giving you an inch, not a mile. Is that understood?”
Jasper nodded, fighting to keep the surprise from his face as Coughlan continued toward the exit.
Dazed, he walked toward his own small office.
He honestly hadn’t thought the chief inspector would relent.
He also hadn’t known how much he wanted to remain at the CID until the moment he’d been prepared to be tossed from it.
In his office, while collecting his coat and hat, Jasper pondered how to share Coughlan’s decision with Leo.
She might take it as an open invitation to insert herself into a future inquiry, when Jasper knew the chief inspector had not intended for that at all.
They would have to be careful. Her assistance would need to be structured and well-controlled—the latter of which might prove difficult.
As he walked through the department, the desks were mostly empty.
Lewis and Drake, as well as Warnock and Price, had peeled off once the Goodwins and Paula Blickson were removed to their prison cells.
There would be a mountain of paperwork tomorrow, but for now, a few pints were in order.
Jasper left through the front of the building, planning to join the others at the Rising Sun for a short while.
He’d then call on Leo. Knowing her, she would have asked Oliver to bring her to the morgue so she could type her statement of events.
By now, she would be at home on Duke Street.
Or perhaps she would have gone to his home on Charles Street to wait with Mrs. Zhao for his return.
The allure of her waiting for him at home shot through him, and he paused in the middle of the street to reconsider his plan to head to the pub first. That was when he felt the probing press of eyes on his back.
Jasper swiveled on his heel and found the orange-hatted man instantly. The stranger stood several yards away, leaning nonchalantly against a lamppost. Unlike before, the man didn’t attempt to walk on, blend into a crowd, or vanish. He held Jasper’s stare.
“Why are you following me?” He strode swiftly toward the man. He’d had enough with this game. “Who has sent you?”
The man didn’t react. It should have alerted Jasper as odd, but he was intent on finally getting an answer. As such, the clatter of wheels and the approach of a coach and four did not faze him until the conveyance cut in between Jasper and the stranger and drew to an abrupt halt.
The door opened and a large, muscled man emerged. Jasper recognized him at once. Bollocks .
“Evening, Inspector,” came a smooth greeting from within the darkened coach. “Why don’t you join me? We can have a talk.”
Jasper’s blood seemed to slow and turn to stone in his veins. He didn’t need to see who it was to know the voice’s identity.
Andrew Carter had come for him.