My Favorite Thief (4 page)

“If I may, Miss Kent, I would like to speak with your coachman a moment, to ask him what he recalls about the incident.”

“Certainly.”

“But first, Constable Wilkins and I would like to make an inspection of your house and the surrounding grounds.”

Panic streaked up her spine. “Search my house? Why?”

“It's just a formality, really,” he assured her. “It's just that one of your neighbors claims to have watched as you arrived home. She said she saw three people disembark from the carriage—which is perplexing, given that you have indicated that the Shadow left your carriage near Waterloo Bridge. I just want to be certain he did indeed leave your carriage, and did not merely get out and then perhaps travel here hanging onto the back of it—without your knowledge, of course.”

“I'm so sorry, Inspector,” Charlotte apologized, thinking quickly. “In all the excitement, I forgot to mention that Flynn was with us.”

“Who is Flynn?”

“He is a young boy who is staying with me. As you may be aware, this is a refuge house for unfortunate women and children who are trying to escape the harshness of their past and make a better life for themselves. Flynn had come along with Oliver for the ride—he likes to go out driving at night, and he is good company for Oliver while I am visiting. Whoever saw the three of us must have seen me, Oliver, and Flynn get out of the carriage and go into the house.”

“That is most likely the case,” he agreed. “Nevertheless, I'm sure you won't object if Constable Wilkins and I make a quick search, just to ensure your safety. I promise we won't disturb your household for long.” Without waiting for her permission he rose and strode down the stairs to the dining room with Constable Wilkins following.

“I can assure you that is entirely unnecessary.” Charlotte limped after them as best she could. “Why on earth would the Dark Shadow want to come here?” She raised her voice slightly as she added, “There are no jewels of any value in this house.” Oliver was nowhere to be seen, which Charlotte desperately hoped meant that he had gone upstairs to help Flynn and the girls hide their guest.

“If he were here, it would not be with the intention of stealing.” Lewis went into the main floor study, appraised it for a moment, then walked out and headed for the stairs leading down to the kitchen. “Because of the amount of time you spent with him this evening, it is possible he may have sensed your generous nature. If it turns out that his wounds are severe, he may try to appeal to you for help. It would not be the first time a criminal has sought assistance from one of his victims. Sometimes they mistake their victims' frightened compliance for a kind of empathy.”

“After you are gone, Inspector, I shall see to it that all the doors and windows are locked for the night, and I will instruct everyone not to answer the door.”

“That would be wise. However, as we know, the Dark Shadow is adept at breaking into homes. Constable Wilkins and I will make certain he isn't here before you lock up.” He went into the kitchen, where Eunice and Doreen were busily working. “Good evening, ladies.”

“Eunice and Doreen, this is Inspector Turner and Police Constable Wilkins,” said Charlotte. “They are conducting a search of the house, to ensure that the Shadow didn't decide to follow me here and perhaps break in.”

“That's a fine idea,” Eunice said, calmly drying a plate. “ 'Twas a terrible thing ye suffered tonight, lass. If the police here can make ye feel a wee bit safer, I'm sure we'll all sleep sounder for it.”

“Aye.” Doreen poked violently at the flames burning brightly within the stove. “ 'Tis bad enough the streets are crawlin' with vermin, but 'tis a sad state when ye canna feel safe even in yer own home. That's the way of things today, Inspector, isn't it?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Lewis poked his head into the pantry and the scullery. He then turned his gaze to Doreen and frowned. “If you don't mind my asking, why have you got the stove burning so hot at this late hour?”

“Me and Eunice likes to do some cookin' in the evenin' when Miss Kent is out,” Doreen explained.

“But you're finished now, are you not?” he enquired, approaching the stove.

“Aye—but with all the fuss goin' on tonight, neither of us could go to bed, an' when I saw how lovely an' hot the coals were, I knew they were just perfect for burnin' some old rags.” She pushed the last fragment of the Dark Shadow's bloodstained shirt into the orange embers, then banged the iron burner plate back into place. “There now, mind ye dinna get too close—ye'd nae want to scorch that handsome coat of yers.”

“Will ye take some tea while ye're here, Inspector?” offered Eunice sweetly. “I've just made a fresh pot, an' there's warm ginger biscuits to go with it.”

“No, thank you.”

“How about you, Constable?” Eunice held the plate of fragrant biscuits up to Constable Wilkins. “They're lovely an' crisp—”

“We don't have time for refreshments,” Lewis said firmly.

Constable Wilkins regarded the plate mournfully.

“Did either of you ladies see or hear anything unusual after Miss Kent returned home?” Lewis asked. “Any strange noises in the house, for instance?”

“Nae more strange than usual,” said Doreen. “With the lasses an' young Flynn traipsin' about, there's always some clamorin' somewhere.”

“I see. And where might they be?”

“At this hour they're most probably in bed,” Eunice told him.

“Thank you. Please don't feel you need to accompany me, Miss Kent,” he told Charlotte. “Constable Wilkins and I can manage on our own.”

“I appreciate that, Inspector.” Charlotte fought to remain calm as she laboriously started up the stairs in front of him. “It's just that the girls staying here might feel a little unnerved by your presence, and particularly that of Police Constable Wilkins. I want to be there to reassure them.”

“As you wish.”

He made a quick perusal of the bedrooms that belonged to Charlotte, Eunice, Doreen, and Oliver. Finding nothing amiss, he proceeded to the top floor.

“Don't be frightened, Violet,” Charlotte soothed when she saw the young girl peering at them from behind her chamber door. “This is Inspector Turner and Constable Wilkins. They are just taking a look at the house to make sure that we are safe.”

Violet eyed the two men in wary silence. Lewis speculated the poor girl had learned long ago that when it came to policemen, the less one spoke the better.

“Who is in there?” he demanded, indicating the closed door of the room in which Charlotte had left the Dark Shadow.

“That's Ruby's chamber,” Charlotte told him.

“She's sleepin'.” Flynn rubbed his eyes as he emerged from his own tiny room.

“Unfortunately, Miss Kent, we shall have to waken her.”

“I understand, Inspector.” Charlotte went over to the door and rapped firmly upon it. “Ruby? It's Miss Kent. I'm sorry to disturb you, but there is a detective and a policeman here and they need to take a quick look inside your room. Is that all right?”

“I ain't decent,” Ruby mumbled sleepily. “Give me a minute.”

Lewis waited impatiently, listening to the sounds of a bed creaking, a wardrobe door being opened and shut, and then a most unladylike oath as some part of Ruby's body thudded against something hard. Finally, the door opened and she appeared, looking grumpy and disheveled, with her brilliant copper hair spilling wildly over the rumpled blanket she had retrieved to drape around herself.

“I ain't done nothin',” she spat defensively at Constable Wilkins.

“The police aren't here for you, Ruby,” Charlotte explained. “They are looking for any sign that the Dark Shadow may have tried to break into the house.”

Ruby yawned and scratched herself. “He ain't in here.”

“If you don't mind, I'd like to take a look for myself. Wilkins, you go check the boy's room.” Lewis walked into the dark chamber, pushing the door wide until it was softly bathed in the light spilling from the oil lamps in the corridor.

Charlotte watched nervously as he stood in the center of the room. For what seemed an eternity he did not move, but merely stood there, his eyes searching. He studied the tousled bedclothes upon the narrow bed, the empty glass upon the dressing table, the slightly ajar door of the wardrobe. Although Charlotte didn't think there was anything unusual there, she sensed that something about the chamber bothered him. He stood almost frozen, waiting. And then it occurred to Charlotte that he was not merely looking.

He was listening.

Please God,
she prayed fervently, wondering what she would do when he looked beneath the tent of artfully draped blankets the girls had arranged over the bed.
Please make him turn around and come out.

Instead, Lewis moved toward the bed, slowly, like a cat inching its way toward a wounded bird. He studied the pillow a moment, assessing the size of the hollow pressed into its feathery depths, and looking to see if there were any hairs against its pale linen other than Ruby's brilliant red ones.

They had underestimated him, Charlotte realized, feeling as if she was going to be sick. Constable Wilkins might have been easy to fool or distract, but the inspector's instincts were far more keenly honed. Something was suspicious to him, whether it was a scent in the air, some barely visible thread or hair upon the carpet or linens, or the all but imperceptible pulse of the Dark Shadow's breathing.

Lewis grasped the edge of the blankets suddenly and whipped them up.

And looked in stunned surprise at the emptiness beneath the bedstead.

“I told you he ain't here,” Ruby said.

He glared around the room, angry now, convinced that he had been deceived. He strode to the wardrobe and threw the doors open. There was nothing inside but a couple of shabby gowns and an old pair of boots.

“I didn't find anything in the boy's room,” Constable Wilkins reported as he entered. “Do you want me to look in the—”

“Silence!” Lewis commanded.

The sound of a carriage door slamming shut caught his attention. By the time he crossed the room and leaned out of the small window, the vehicle was already speeding away.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Come back!”

The carriage rounded a corner and disappeared.

Cursing, he ran from the room and down the stairs, with a startled Constable Wilkins at his heels. As they reached the landing for the second floor they nearly collided with Oliver, who was shuffling up bearing an enormous tea tray.

“Here now, lads, what's amiss?”

“Get out of my way, you old fool!” Lewis snapped. “I'm after the Dark Shadow!”

“Are ye now?” Oliver marveled, suitably impressed. “Funny, I didna see him—but nae matter, let me help ye with the door.” He turned with his tray and began to slowly trudge down the stairs, still obstructing their path.

“I don't need your help with the bloody door!”

“All right, then, lad, nae need to get cross,” Oliver scolded. “I'm nae so spry as I used to be, an' when ye get to be my age ye'll find 'tis nae easy for you, either.”

Lewis barely heard him as he heaved open the front door and burst out onto the street.

“Where was he going?” he demanded, seeing a woman standing outside gazing forlornly after the carriage. “Did you hear what directions he gave the driver?”

“He's off to the Rose an' Crown most like, or maybe the Rats' Castle in St. Giles—an' when ye find him, I want ye to tell him I hope he rots in hell!” Annie's battered face was trembling with rage. “Just look what he did to me—he ain't nothin' but a filthy brute, an' I'll be glad when ye arrest him for beatin' on women!”

Lewis looked at her in confusion. “He beat you?”

“He'll tell you I was askin' for it—well, I'm tellin' you I didn't ask for it, an' while I may live with him now an' again I ain't his wife, an' now that I'm stayin' with Miss Kent he ain't got no right to baste me an' I want him charged with attempted murder!”

“You live with the Dark Shadow?” Contable Wilkins, who had finally managed to make it past Oliver, looked utterly astonished.

Annie stared at him incredulously. “Ye think my Jimmy is the Dark Shadow?” She exploded with laughter.

“Who was in that carriage?” demanded Lewis.

“That was my Jimmy,” she managed, nearly breathless with hilarity. “Black Jimmy, they call him, on account of his black temper, and I've the marks to prove it—but Jimmy ain't no Dark Shadow! If he was, he'd be drinkin' in some gin palace in Oxford Street, not chokin' on the piss they pour at the Rats' Castle!”

“Is everything all right, Annie?” Charlotte had donned a cloak to protect her from the rain and was now making her way down the front steps. “Oh, my, what happened to your face?”

“My Jimmy hit me,” she told her honestly, “an' I know ye told me he was no good and I shouldn't see him no more, but he came here tonight an' said I had to go back with him, an' when I told him no, he punched me, but these peelers here is goin' to arrest him now, an' make sure he learns the law says he can't just pitch into me whenever he likes.” She looked at Lewis expectantly.

“Actually we are presently working on another case,” he told her, infuriated by the fact that he had already wasted so much time there.

“Ye men are all the same,” Annie observed acidly. “Ye talk the high and mighty when it suits you, but deep down ye all believe we women is good for nothin' but beddin' and beatin'—'specially a poor girl like me.”

Lewis clenched his jaw, frustrated. What the hell did she expect him to do? he wondered angrily. Head down to some criminal-infested den in St. Giles and try to arrest every man who had ever laid a hand on his wife or girlfriend? The prisons of London would be overflowing before the hour was out. Even so, he felt strangely awkward as he stared into Annie's pretty, battered face. The thought of some filthy bastard using the girl for his pleasure and then beating her filled him with impotent fury.