Page 7 of Murder in Disguise (Mary and Bright #5)

Mary remained quiet in the carriage on the way to the Marylebone address where they would interview another set of parents. It was the closest location to their townhouse, and afterward, she could check in on the children before continuing the investigation.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” The deep rumble of her husband’s voice tickled through her chest and brought a modicum of calm.

“I always forget how terrible that first glimpse of a murdered victim is for the psyche.” The image of Clarissa’s pale face kept dancing through her mind. “Her poor parents. I can’t imagine what I’d be thinking or feeling if that had been Adelaide.”

He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I know. This case is difficult in that regard because the dead girl is the same age as your niece.”

“And one of the odder things is there was no immediate cause of death.” Mary shook her head. “If she was poisoned, wouldn’t there have been some sort of sign? Foam at the mouth? Bloodshot eyes? Blue lips or fingernails? An aroma?” It was quite frustrating.

“I’ll admit, I’m not an expert at the signs of poisoning.

We might need to call in someone else to go over the body.

” When he blew out a breath, she felt his frustration.

“I also think that we shouldn’t hang our assumptions on poisoning as the cause of death.

I didn’t have nearly enough time with the body, and it was raining besides.

Additionally, she was fully clothed. There could be other things at play. ”

Mary nodded. “When will we have access to the corpse?” Though she hated to say it, and detested even more examining a dead body, it was all part of joining into an investigation.

“I would imagine at some point tomorrow. However, because time is of the essence, I might go over there this evening.”

“I’m glad to hear it. There might be a clue that will give us more specific direction.”

“Indeed.” Bright turned his head to glance out the window. “Bloody rain. It makes everything more difficult, but those scratch marks on the girl’s neck puzzle me.”

“We will eventually figure everything out. We always do.” At least there was that.

“There is comfort in that statement.” He met her gaze, and his dark depths brimmed with affection. “Thank you for being with me on this journey.”

“Well, we are partners in all the ways that matter.” And they had been since the first. It was one of the things she adored about Gabriel, that fact he never failed to treat her with respect, and he took her opinions into consideration.

“Being that to you has completely changed my idea of what a marriage should be.” His expression sobered. “God, I can’t believe we’ve been married for a year. More than that, really, for our anniversary was on the sixteenth. In fact, I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“I know.” She couldn’t help but smile. “You treated me to a night away at one of the premiere hotels in London as well as a night out at the opera with dinner.” That had been quite a fantastic evening, one where she’d had him all to herself.

“It reminded me slightly of where we spent our honeymoon.”

“What?” He scooted backward enough that he could fully peer into her face. “That illegal pleasure spa? I’d hardly consider what we got up to last week for our anniversary on the same scandalous level as that place in Brighton.”

Heat slapped at her cheeks. That had been quite the case, more for the people and situations they’d met along the way than the actual murders, but the killer had been quite troubled in his mind.

In fact, both she and Gabriel had almost lost their lives as their case had concluded.

It had been a terrible time, what with the fire and the collapse of the structure where the spa had been housed.

To say nothing of being bound and gagged by the killer before that, waiting for death.

At times, she still dreamed about that and the terror it had given her.

Shoving the thoughts away, she shook her head. “Mmm, I’m not complaining, Bright. Before you came along, I had no idea that a woman of my age could feel everything you evoke from me.”

That wasn’t offered to stroke his ego or to give him flattery; it was simply the truth.

“I do what I can.” The satisfaction in his voice pulled a laugh from her.

“So predictable.” She snuggled into his side and laid a gloved hand on his chest. “And so adorable.”

A rap on the roof of the carriage interrupted whatever he would have said. “Arriving!” the driver called out above the sound of the rain.

“Who are we seeing right now?”

Bright pulled back the black curtain slightly then put it back into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan. I believe he is a banker.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s simple, really.” He winked as the carriage rocked to a halt in front of a townhouse.

“Before you joined Adelaide and I in the morning room for breakfast, I asked her about the missing girls and whether she knew them. Interestingly enough, she’d attended several society functions with at least two of them, which is how I discovered Mr. Sheridan is a banker.

Adelaide said his daughter, Sarah, is a lovely girl with a vivacious personality.

Everyone flocked to her, from what I understand. ”

“How horrible this time must be for Adelaide. She never mentioned to me that she’d known the missing girls.” Did that mean she didn’t trust her? Probably not, but she had been quite busy throughout the Season. “Honestly? I’m surprised there is not more gossip flowing through society about this.”

“There might be now that there is a death.” He pressed his lips together when the door opened and the driver put down the steps.

“And if things grow worse from that?” A shrug lifted his shoulders.

“We could be looking at a low-grade panic in Town.” Then he exited the vehicle and offered a hand to help her down.

“Let us hope we can solve the case before it becomes more drastic.” Knots pulled in her belly, for knowing that there was someone out there kidnapping and then possibly killing young woman for an unknown reason made her want to retch.

How can I raise my children in such a world?

She must have squeezed Gabriel’s hand, for he glanced sharply at her. “Is all well?”

“I hope so. Just thinking about how we’re responsible for our children in a world where there is violence and hatred.”

“The world has always been full of such, sweeting. It is just more relevant to you because you’re a mother now.” He led her through a wrought iron gate and then up a short walkway to a black-painted door.

“When Henry was small, how did you calm yourself knowing evil is seemingly everywhere and that he might eventually run into it?” Dear heavens, her chest was tight with worry.

“You have to tell yourself that they’ll be safe, that you are doing the work needed to make London that much better for them to grow up in.

” Bright brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back even as he knocked on the door with his free hand.

“And you must believe in your heart that they’ll be safe.

Otherwise, you’ll take to your bed for the rest of your life, inundated by worry and dread. ”

“I’ll try.” It was a much different feeling than she’d ever had before when she’d worked cases with him.

Before they adopted Cassandra, the only worry she had was for Bright’s safety, and while that had been anxiety-ridden enough, having that for her children?

It would require loads of faith and effort on her part not to let it take over her life.

“I am glad, though, that people like you are out there trying to evict criminals from doing more harm.”

“People like us, Mary,” he said with an intensity about him that made her pulse accelerate. “We’re a team, remember.”

There wasn’t time to say anything else, for the door swung inward and an older gentleman—at least in his seventies—stared at them from over the rims of his half-moon spectacles, which only served to call attention to his hawk-like nose.

“May I help you?”

Bright was quick with a response. “I am Inspector Bright, and this is Mrs. Bright. We’re here to speak with Mr. Sheridan regarding his missing daughter.”

For long moments, the man Mary assumed was a butler, stood regarding them with an expression of confusion. Then he finally nodded. “Follow me.” He turned and moved deeper into the bowels of the house before either of them had even crossed the threshold.

With a speaking glance at her, Bright went into the entry hall. Mary followed. She closed the front door behind them.

The house itself had been decorated tastefully but with an understated style.

What was more, the floor plan was much the same as her townhouse not far from here, so Mary felt immediately comfortable as they were shown into a back parlor.

Done in colors of moss green and mauve, the grouping of furniture wasn’t pretentious, but the window that looked onto the back garden was half open, and the cool breeze despite the rain was most welcome.

“I will let Mr. Sheridan know you are here. He arrived just before you did for his midday tea.” And then the butler was gone, shuffling off along the corridor.

“That was quite an odd fellow.” Bright moved restlessly about the small space. He peered into the shelves and curio cabinet, randomly touching a gloved fingertip to various statuettes and bric-a-brac.

“I’m surprised he still holds such a position at his age,” Mary whispered while she perched on the edge of a chair. The cherrywood was quite pretty in the candlelight.

“I suppose, like many of us, he’ll continue to toil until he can’t.

There must be something he enjoys about the post if he’s still doing it.

” He handed her his familiar leather-bound notebook and the sorry stub of his pencil.

Which was good because she’d forgotten to put her own into her reticule before they’d left the house.