Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Night had fallen by the time they stepped out of the door on Charlotte Street. Gideon walked with Electra toward the cab stand on Goodge Street.
Even knowing what her reaction would be, Gideon found himself saying, “I think perhaps you should return to Russell Square while I speak to Pennington.”
Electra stopped him midstride with a hand on his arm. “No, I want to accompany you.”
And I want to protect you. He did not say the words, but she looked as if she could see them in his expression.
She gritted her teeth. “I could be useful, and you said that you intend to use my suggestion to employ deception.”
Gideon was not sure whether to find it amusing or offensive that she thought he could not come up with such a tactic on his own, but he could not deny how much she had assisted him on the case.
Still, if Lance Pennington had murdered his brother and was as unstable as Mrs. Devlin described, he couldn’t be sure what the man might do to save his own neck.
“If he denies his involvement, I might be able to see the truth.”
Gideon would never deny how useful Electra’s abilities had been in the past, but it never made him feel better about her involvement in a murder case.
“Please, Gideon. I want to see this case to its conclusion, so that there is not a single doubt of Kit’s or Cordelia’s involvement.”
Gideon observed the stubborn set of her jaw, the flare of determination in her eyes.
“Let us not waste any more time then.”
They started off toward the cab stand again and she did not crow with triumph, but he did not miss the look of satisfaction on her face when he glanced her way.
At Mount Street, Mr. Burton greeted them with interest and a touch of wariness.
“Is Mr. Pennington at home, Burton?” Gideon spoke with no nicety now, and the butler seemed to note the urgency in his tone.
The elderly man nodded, led them inside, and took their coats and Gideon’s hat.
“He has a visitor, Inspector.” Burton eyed Electra.
“This is Miss Poole,” Gideon told him.
“The two of you may wait in the drawing room, and I will inform Mr. Pennington that you’ve come to call.”
They stepped into the room, and Gideon turned back to the servant.
“Is Miss Faraday at home?”
“I believe she has retired for the evening.”
Before the man could withdraw, Gideon said, “This is a pressing matter, Mr. Burton, and I will remain until Mr. Pennington is free to speak to me.”
“Yes, Inspector.” Burton gave him a solemn look and then withdrew.
Gideon could not bear to sit. A restless energy filled him because the answers seemed within his grasp.
Electra didn’t seem inclined to sit either. She examined the room, the art on the walls, the knickknacks on the mantel and various side tables.
“I wonder who he is meeting with at such a late hour,” she murmured as she perused.
Gideon was simply pleased the man was at home and they would not have to search for him at the theatre or his other lodgings. Or that he had not attempted to abscond and leave London.
A fear that Mrs. Devlin might forewarn him in some way had crossed his mind, but she could not have arrived at Mount Street, nor sent a messenger, any more quickly than their cab journey to Pennington’s address.
The quiet of the house was almost unnerving, but for Electra’s soft footfalls on the thick carpet and the ticking of the clock on the mantel.
A few minutes passed, and Gideon stepped toward the drawing room door, which Burton had left open a few inches.
He wondered what was delaying the butler.
Voices carried down hall and he heard someone coughing. The sound was low, rasping, and it sounded very like what he had heard the day he’d visited Gordon Callister.
Gideon turned back to find Electra watching him. “Wait here.”
“Why?”
“I need to speak to Pennington.”
She approached and Gideon stepped away from the door.
“I thought you intended that we would speak to him together,” she said, not bothering to hide her consternation. “That is why the butler went to inform him we’re here.”
“I know who is here with him.”
“Who?”
The drawing room door opened, and they both turned as Miss Faraday stepped into the room.
“Inspector Pierce,” she said as she strode toward him, then tipped a look toward Electra. “And Miss Poole.”
She lifted her gaze to Gideon again. “Burton told me of your arrival, and I believe he informed you that my uncle is occupied. Might I assist you in some way?”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Faraday. It is your uncle I am here to see. Will his visitor depart soon?”
“Oh.” The question seemed to make her uncomfortable. “I am not sure when his visitor will depart.”
“Could you let him know that it is vital I speak with him?” Gideon asked her.
The young woman glanced at Electra, then back at Gideon. “Is this about my uncle’s murder? Have you found who did this? Please tell me you have.”
“I have information that your uncle will wish to hear. Details he asked me to convey to him as soon as I discovered them.” Gideon slid a look at Electra. “I…have found something he was looking for. Would you tell him that?”
The young lady stared at him so long that it felt unsettling. “What did you find?”
“I’m afraid I would rather convey that information to your uncle privately.”
The young lady sighed. “Well, I will urge Burton remind him that you are waiting. If you’ll both please wait in the drawing room, I’ll see to having some tea brought up for you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Electra told her with a congenial half-smile.
“Tea sounds just the thing,” Gideon said in contradiction, a tight smile on his face.
The young woman glanced at Electra, then Gideon. “Very well. I shall go and see to its preparation.”
“Why on earth do you suddenly want tea?” Electra whispered once the young lady departed.
“I don’t.” Gideon stepped toward the drawing room door that Miss Faraday had left open a few inches.
Scanning the hall beyond it, he spotted no one. Then he gestured for Electra to follow him. The sound of someone coughing grew louder, and it was clearly coming from an open door at the far end of the hall, where the warm glow of gaslight spilled out.
Gideon was not surprised to find Gordon Callister in the study with Lance Pennington. The younger Pennington stood with their back to him, and Callister was seated in a wingback near a waning fire.
“Mr. Pennington, the interruption was necessary,” Gideon said.
“Gideon,” Electra whispered at the same moment Lance Pennington turned to face him.
He looked more haggard than when Gideon had spoken to him previously.
“Have you found her?” Pennington rasped, then surged forward.
Callister rose from his chair and stepped into the younger man’s path. “Calm yourself, Pennington.”
At that moment, Gideon noted the smell of alcohol and noted the half-empty decanter on the desk.
Electra tugged insistently at his sleeve, and Gideon turned toward her.
“This is the room,” she whispered. “And that is the man I saw in my vision.”
Gideon tried to make sense of that detail as Callister approached, all but blocking his view of Lance Pennington.
“Inspector,” Callister said in a grave tone, “the young Pennington is in no fit state to speak to anyone.”
“I said, did you find her?” Pennington cried, then attempted to push Callister aside. “I need to speak to her.” Pennington’s words were slurred, his voice too loud.
Gordon Callister said, “The man needs a rest.” He strode toward the bell pull. “Let us have Burton take him upstairs.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Pennington lunged forward, and Callister rushed forward, only just stopping the young man from tumbling onto the floor.
Pennington was so drunk that his eyes were unfocused, his movements clumsy.
“The gentleman is no state to speak to anyone,” Callister began, “but I will speak to you if you wish, Inspector.”
“We found her,” Electra said from over Gideon’s shoulder.
Pennington, who’d been sagging in Callister’s hold, shot up to his full height. “Where? Tell me.” He pointed at Electra, and Gideon had the urge to send her out of the room entirely.
Despite the chaos of the moment, Gideon considered using the tactic he and Electra had discussed. He glanced at her.
“Tell him,” she whispered.
Gideon was a man of strategy. He preferred not to act impulsively. Perhaps he once had in his life, and that was why he worked so hard to school his emotions now. But Electra knew him well enough to see that he only gave the matter a moment’s contemplation.
“Have a seat, Mr. Pennington,” Gideon said, his voice steely. “What I have to say may shock you.”
Gordon Callister narrowed his eyes at Gideon, even as he led the blond man, who Electra was now certain she had seen in her vision when she touched Demeter Devlin, to a chair.
Pennington slumped down and pressed a hand to his head. “I am listening, Inspector. Now will you please tell me where she is?”
Callister stood next to Pennington’s chair and reached down to put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Inspector, you can see the state of grief and inebriation Lance is suffering. Is it not unethical to question him in this state?”
Gideon ignored Callister and kept his gaze trained on Pennington, who stared up at him, bleary eyed.
“Tell me,” he whispered.
“Mrs. Devlin has been taken into custody,” Gideon said.
“No!” Pennington tried to stand from the chair and reached out as if to pitch himself toward Gideon, but Callister restrained him with a broad hand on his shoulder that seemed to hold him in place.
“Calm yourself,” Callister hissed.
“Evidence has come to light,” Gideon said calmly, focused still on Pennington, “that Mrs. Devlin is responsible for your brother’s murder.”
While he spoke, Pennington shook his head and murmured, “No. No. No.”
Behind them, Miss Faraday burst into the room and rushed toward her uncle.
Electra thought she might attempt to comfort him. Instead, she stood in front of Pennington, facing Gideon.
“Please, Inspector, my uncle is most distressed,” she pleaded. “Might you go and allow us to care for him?”
Behind her, Pennington had begun to sob.