Page 28 of Deadly Murder (Angus Brodie and Mikaela Forsythe Murder Mystery #14)

Eighteen

Lily stayed over at the flat next to the office again since the weather had set in as Mr. Cavendish predicted, turning to snow as the temperature dropped through the evening.

He had brought us supper from the Public House, then returned for the night. The hound was presently snoring in front of the coal stove.

Brodie and I continued to discuss what we had learned from my visit with Althea Walsingham and the information Sir Lowery had provided, along with what Brodie had learned from the wool merchant about the scarf. After supper, I made notes in my notebook.

“What is to be done now?” Lily asked.

She had listened to our conversation, curious and thoughtful.

Brodie stood at the window beside his desk, a frown on his face as he stared out at the snow that came down steadily, occasionally taking a draw from the pipe in his hand.

We had been asked to make inquiries on behalf of the Prince of Wales after notes were found at the site of two murders, the second one at Marlborough House the night of the birthday celebration.

However, with what we had now learned, it did seem that His Highness had not been entirely forthcoming in the matter.

But for what purpose? To prevent old secrets being brought to the fore and a possible scandal?

It was one thing to take on an inquiry when provided with everything a prospective client knew or thought they knew. I had experienced that myself in that very first case when my sister disappeared and my great aunt had referred me to a particular private inquiry agent.

It was quite another when information that could be critical to the case had been deliberately withheld, which could be dangerous for all involved. Let alone prevent us from solving the case.

“It does appear that His Highness has chosen to leave out certain information,” Brodie said, a fragrant ring of smoke encircling his head as I added notes to my notebook.

“I will contact Sir Knollys in the morning and insist that we meet again.”

It was possible that His Highness would be more forthcoming with other information in a conversation with another man. That notion of protecting a woman against possibly shocking and scandalous details.

It was all rubbish of course, as I was not easily offended, particularly after that first case that had taken me into difficult and dangerous situations.

“Do you believe he will tell you the truth of what happened?”

“Perhaps, when I tell him what ye learned today from the vice chancellor of the university.”

I had my own thoughts regarding what we had learned. I closed my notebook.

“I believe a trip to Cambridge could be useful,” I announced. “The girl’s father was the vicar in the local parish. There should be a name in the church records. It could be useful in our search for who is behind these attacks.

“It is not far by rail and worth the trip.” I then added something he was not likely to refuse considering recent conversations.

“Lily can go with me. We should be able to return by afternoon. And by then, you may have information from your meeting with His Highness.”

Brodie opened then closed his mouth, teeth clamped around the stem of the pipe.

It appeared that I had nipped any argument against it in the bud.

“I’ve not been to Cambridge yet,” Lily said with growing excitement and promptly removed her boots and stockings and set them before the coal stove to dry. “I hope the weather will not prevent it.”

“There was no need to include the lass on yer trip to Cambridge,” Brodie pointed out as we prepared for bed. “We might have made the trip together the day after, once I’ve met with His Highness.”

If , the Prince of Wales was willing to meet with him.

“I am aware of that,” I replied.

It was that hesitation at sending me off on my own that I had experienced before and resigned myself to. Yet, I would not be alone. Lily and I would be traveling and returning the same day.

“I did believe it necessary to rescue you,” I commented.

I stepped out of my skirt and laid it over the clothing rack and then unbuttoned my shirt, leaving me in my camisole and underslip.

That dark gaze narrowed on me.

“Rescue? Wot are ye blathering about?”

“From the situation you created by insisting that we include her in our inquiries.”

I was right and he knew it.

“As it is, we may learn something in the process.” I smiled. “You’re quite welcome.”

“Ye are a brazen chit,” he replied, reaching out and pulling me against him. “I should turn ye over my knee.”

As if that would ever happen.

“However…”

“However?”

“Not tonight…”

Lily was already dressed the next morning. She had put more coal on the fire and set the coffee pot to boil. A reminder that she had once performed those duties daily before coming to London.

“A bit late of the mornin’ are ye?” she commented as I followed Brodie from the adjoining room.

I caught the look Brodie gave me.

Yes, well, as for turning me over his knee…

“King’s Cross station is best for Cambridge,” Lily announced. “There are two departures each morning, and the same for the return in the afternoon. Time for travel is little more than an hour.”

She then provided both departure times.

“The weather had let up and the messenger office was already open,” she announced. “And there are biscuits from the Public House.”

“Ye went to the courier office, alone, this time of the mornin’?”

I heard the disapproval in Brodie’s voice.

“We will take the second departure,” I replied, before that temper could get the better of him.

“That will give us plenty of time to make our inquiries once we arrive, then make the afternoon train back to London.”

I handed him a biscuit that contained a thick slice of ham, to soothe the savage beast as it were.

“You might call Sir Knollys at Marlborough House if the telephone is working and make your appointment with His Highness.”

Lily grinned.

There were a few comments made, some in Gaelic. From time to time, it was necessary to poke this bear.

“Aye,” Brodie said as he set the earpiece back in the cradle on the telephone. “I’m to meet with His Highness at two o’clock this afternoon,” he informed me after the call had ended.

“I will see the two of ye to the rail station.”

I saw the protest Lily would have made and shook my head.

I did not argue that we were perfectly capable of finding a driver and making the trip to King’s Cross station.

“We could take a cab quite easily now that the streets have cleared,” she pointed out as we took the lift to the street level while Brodie took the stairs.

“One needs to pick one’s battles,” I replied.

King’s Cross station was very much like a small city under that arched dome with glass panels and included separate tracks for arrivals and departures with an island between.

Under that dome were shops, cafes, a telegraph office, and the ticket office with a half dozen windows.

Coaches with passengers arrived and departed, clogging the roadway that was already congested due to overnight weather and snow.

We had arrived in good time, and Brodie went to purchase our tickets while Lily and I waited under an overhead sign with departure times and destinations.

She had traveled by train to Scotland with us and Aunt Antonia several times, most recently during the influenza outbreak.

Yet, there was still that fascination with the congestion of passengers and the sound of trains departing for other places, not to mention the admiration of a young man nearby who made no attempt to disguise his interest in a young girl.

Or, rather, a young woman, I reminded myself.

“You seem to have drawn attention,” I commented as we waited.

Lily turned to inspect the young man. She might as well have been inspecting fresh produce at a street side vendor, or perhaps the latest catch from a fish monger.

“He’s barely out of knickers,” she exclaimed. “His mother must be about somewhere.”

And so ended that bit of flirtation as Brodie arrived.

“Accordin’ to the clerk at the counter, ye should arrive before noon. The last train departs from Cambridge at four o’clock.” He handed us our tickets. “The next platform.”

He escorted us, then assisted us aboard the train. His hand lingered on mine as Lily continued on into the passenger compartment.

“Be careful.”

It was always the same, yet I knew where it came from, and welcomed it. And my response was the same as well.

“Of course.”

I watched as he set off, a striking figure, and not at all the sort of “gentleman” other women might prefer.

He wore no hat in spite of the weather that morning, taller than those around him, wearing the jumper he preferred to a silk shirt and cravat.

And though he was some distance away, there was no disguising the devil’s look he gave me now as he turned briefly.

As I turned to enter the passenger compartment I caught a glimpse of a man, simply dressed who quickly slipped through the crowd of passengers on the platform.

His way momentarily blocked, he pushed between a man and woman, ducking his head from sight beneath a cap. He stumbled, then pushed on with some difficulty, and appeared to have a noticeable limp.

I quickly descended the steps onto the platform and searched for sight of him among the crowd of passengers, but he had disappeared.

“Miss?”

I looked up at the rail attendant who now stood on the steps to the rail car.

“The train will be departing. You must board now.”

I found the seat Lily had taken with the other across and joined her.

“We should arrive by eleven o’clock,” she announced, then looked up.

“Ye look as if ye’ve seen a ghost, as Mrs. Ryan would say.”

Not a ghost, but someone very real I had glimpsed in barely more than a few seconds among a crowd of people?

Surely there was more than one man with limp in all of London, particularly among those who returned from military service.

We arrived at Cambridgeshire rail station on schedule.