Page 40 of Molly Boys

“Sorry?” The commissioner slammed him against the wall again. “My son is dead.” His voice broke.

If he had been any other man, Archie would have shoved him off and planted his fist in the man’s face for his trouble, but this wasn’t any other man, he reminded himself. He was the chief commissioner, answerable only to the Home Office. There was no higher authority within the police. Archie may have been taller and broader than the commissioner, and certainly younger and stronger, but the man was his superior in all the ways that counted. Archie fisted his hands at his sides and pressed them against his thighs, determined not to push the man off him or hit back.

“If you had done your job and caught the killer after the first murder, my son would still be alive.” The commissioner slammed Archie painfully against the wall again.

“Commissioner Perkins.” A stern voice cracked like a whip, forcing both men to turn their heads toward the now open door.

Archie watched as a tall, thin man entered. His gaze was austere, his brown hair parted neatly to the side and oiled flat to his head, leaving a row of curls coiling around the nape of his neck. Clean-shaven, he had a shapely and bushy beard beneath his chin that covered his neck and framed his face.

“Release him,” the man intoned stiffly.

“Mr Harcourt,” Commissioner Perkins croaked.

Mr Harcourt? Archie studied the other man closely. This must be William Harcourt, the Home Secretary. What on earth was he doing here?

“You are Inspector Franklin?” Mr Harcourt stated as he turned his attention to Archie.

“Yes, sir,” Archie replied respectfully.

The commissioner released him and Archie brushed a hand over the front of his overcoat, smoothing the material where he’d been gripped so tightly.

Harcourt nodded sharply. “Wait outside.”

“Yes, sir.” Archie inclined his head, then reached down to pluck his bowler from the floor and place it back on his head. He left the room quickly, closing the door behind him.

“Inspector?” A polite voice called, causing Archie to look up.

The clerk still sat to his left, head bent over his papers as he scribbled away, but in front of him was a tidy-looking man with half-moon spectacles and a thin moustache.

“Alfred Merriweather, assistant to the Home Secretary.” He offered his hand, which Archie accepted and shook firmly.

“Inspector Franklin.”

“I know who you are,” Mr Merriweather said quietly, flicking a glance at the clerk, whose frantically scribbling pen had slowed suspiciously as he listened without looking up. “May I have a word?”

“Of course,” Archie agreed. They moved as far across the room as possible and then into the hallway as Mr Merriweather seemed to want to avoid being overheard. “Am I right in thinking this has something to do with David Perkins?”

Mr Merriweather nodded, his brow wrinkling. “This is a very delicate situation, Inspector. I hope I may count on your discretion?”

“You may.”

“As you may or may not be aware, David Perkins was a very likeable fellow. He made friends wherever he went and, being the son of Chief Commissioner Perkins and a noted lawyer himself, that opened quite a few doors for him socially.”

Archie gave a little hum of assent before indicating for Merriweather to continue.

“One of his closest friends was a man he referred to as Eddy.” Merriweather chewed his lip as he glanced around worriedly. “Eddy’s name is actually Albert Victor Christian Edward, which is where the nickname Eddy came from.”

“Wait a moment.” Archie frowned. “Are you telling me that…”

“Eddy is actually Prince Victor, grandson of Queen Victoria, and he’s somewhat of a handful. He’s known for his drinking and carousing. You have no idea how much work he causes the Home Office in keeping his”—he leaned in his voice dropping to a whisper—“proclivities quiet.”

“I see,” Archie rumbled as he processed this information.

“He and David were often to be found together, but now that David has been killed in such a” —he swallowed uncomfortably— “public and unsavoury manner, the Home Office will have no choice but to step in to try and keep Eddy’s name out of it.”

“Are you telling me Eddy was with David Perkins the night he was abducted?” Archie asked, keeping his voice low.

“If he wasn’t, the chances are he knew where David was,” Merriweather told him. “The Home Office won’t want the slightest hint of a connection between these murders and the royal family. As soon as they find Eddy, they’ll lock him down tight until this all blows over.”