Chapter 2 #2
“No.” In hindsight, he wished he’d endured the pain. What if he’d been about to see something important—such as Delia Chadwick?
Tilda moved to withdraw the lavender oil from beneath the other seat. “I’m not sure I want you to make another attempt. At least not today.”
“I think I must,” Hadrian argued. “We don’t have the luxury of time if we’re to catch this kidnapper. He’s expecting the ransom tonight.”
Tilda did not hand him the bottle of oil this time. She removed the top and poured a bit onto her fingertips, then gently massaged it into his temple.
The touch of her hand soothed him immediately, perhaps more than the lavender. He smiled and closed his eyes. “This is much better than doing it myself.”
She moved her hand to his other temple and repeated her massage. Then she dashed her fingertips across his forehead.
When he opened his eyes, he found her regarding him intently. “Don’t worry, Tilda,” he whispered.
“We don’t know the limits of this ability. What if you could do lasting damage to yourself?”
“Don’t you think Captain Vale would have told me of that possibility?
” Hadrian referred to the gentleman who also possessed the ability to see others’ memories and who had shared his knowledge and experience with Hadrian.
Until meeting him a few months ago, Hadrian had feared he was going mad.
There was simply no explanation for what had happened to him after he’d hit his head on the pavement when he’d been stabbed back in January.
Vale had explained that the gift ran in families, seemed to come on after a trauma to the head, and generally caused a headache of varying degrees. The ability could be slightly different among those who possessed it, and Vale hadn’t yet met a woman who could see others’ memories.
“Not if he wasn’t aware of it,” Tilda replied to Hadrian’s question.
“I would think that Thaddeus Vale would have tested the limits of this ability quite thoroughly with his fake conversations with the dead,” Hadrian said with regard to Captain Vale’s son, who’d masterminded a plot to defraud members of Polite Society with his “spiritualism society.” He’d claimed to be a medium but had really been using his ability to see the members’ memories to convince them he could speak to their deceased loved ones.
Hadrian’s mother had been among those taken in by Vale’s scheme.
“Perhaps you should discuss this with Captain Vale when next you write to him.”
“I sense it would soothe your concern?” Hadrian asked.
She smiled. “It would.”
Hadrian tipped his head forward and brushed his lips over hers.
“Hadrian, we’re working,” she protested.
“You say that as if we haven’t kissed in this coach before,” he noted wryly.
“We need to focus on our plan for tonight, and I can’t do that if you distract me.”
“I’m very glad to hear I’m distracting.” Hadrian held up his hand briefly. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to flirt whilst we’re working. I can’t seem to help myself. Do you really think it’s a good idea to inform Teague?”
“We must,” Tilda said firmly. “I don’t like that we have to hide that from Mr. Chadwick, but I didn’t see another way. I will do whatever it takes to find Miss Chadwick and ensure her safety. I’ll explain to Teague why we need to keep things quiet, and I expect he’ll agree.”
They arrived at Scotland Yard and made their way to Teague’s office. He had just donned his hat. “Ravenhurst, Miss Wren,” the detective inspector greeted them. “I was on my way out.”
“I’m glad we caught you,” Tilda said. “We’ve an urgent matter to discuss.”
Detective Inspector Samuel Teague removed his hat to reveal his dark red hair. He tossed the accessory onto his desk and gestured to the seating area near the small hearth. “Let us sit.”
Tilda perched on a chair and opened her reticule.
“Sorry to keep you, but I think you’ll agree that this situation is critical.
” She withdrew the letter they’d just obtained from the Chadwicks as well as the initial ransom note and handed them to Teague who sat across from her.
“Mr. Benjamin Chadwick of Belgrave Square hired me this morning to find his missing daughter, Delia. She disappeared from her bedchamber two days ago.”
Teague’s brow furrowed as he read the notes. His frown deepened as he moved from one to the other. When he looked up at Tilda, his brown eyes were dark with alarm. “She was taken two days ago, and they only hired you today? Never mind that they didn’t report this to the Met,” he added.
“You can see why they didn’t,” Hadrian said. He’d taken the chair to Tilda’s right.
Teague met their gazes. “I’m glad you did.”
“The matter must be kept secret,” Tilda explained. “We don’t wish to endanger Miss Chadwick. We also had to persuade Mr. Chadwick not to come to Hampstead Heath tonight. He was rather insistent that he be there.”
“That’s the last thing he should do.” Teague sent them a look of gratitude. “Thank you for talking him out of that. I agree this operation must be covert. I’ll involve as few men as possible. We need to devise a plan.”
“As it happens, Ravenhurst and I have an idea,” Tilda said.
Teague flashed a faint smile. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“We propose that Ravenhurst assume the role of Mr. Chadwick and deposit an empty bag in the hollow oak whilst I and two of our investigative team, as well as you and your men, watch the area. When the kidnapper arrives to retrieve the bag, we will apprehend him.”
“That is precisely what I was thinking, though I would prefer if Sergeant Wycombe acted as Chadwick.” Teague looked at Hadrian. “I don’t want to endanger a civilian.”
“I understand,” Hadrian said even if he was a trifle disappointed. He’d been looking forward to the role. It was shocking how much he’d come to love this work with Tilda. “Wycombe is also of a similar height to Chadwick.”
“He will need the appropriate costume.” Tilda looked to Hadrian. “Can you provide something?”
“Of course.” Hadrian shifted his attention to Teague. “I’ll send Leach back here with garments shortly.”
“That is most appreciated.” Teague glanced at the ransom notes he still held and shook his head in exasperation. “I’m troubled that Spring-heeled Jack—what a moniker to use—did not say how or when Miss Chadwick would be returned.”
“I am too,” Tilda replied. “We don’t even know if Miss Chadwick is well—or alive.”
Hadrian had a sudden thought. “Perhaps Wycombe should wait with the bag. Wouldn’t a concerned father expect to see his daughter? The note didn’t say Chadwick shouldn’t stay.”
“But what if the kidnapper doesn’t approach the oak because Wycombe is there?” Tilda asked.
“That’s a valid point.” Teague fell quiet as he appeared to mull the options. “Still, I think we should take the risk. The kidnapper wants his money, and if it’s just the one man, I imagine that won’t be a deterrent. Besides, the kidnapper may have others working with him.”
Tilda nodded. “I thought the same thing, which is why I thought it important to involve you. A couple of Ravenhurst’s retainers will help, but I didn’t think that was enough.”
“I’ll bring two constables in addition to Wycombe, who will be armed and on high alert when the kidnapper approaches.
I’ll also station a van down the Spaniards Road with one or two constables.
We’ll make sure it isn’t identifiable as a Met vehicle.
” He fixed his gaze on Tilda. “You should stay with the van.”
“Absolutely not,” Tilda replied with a touch of heat. “This is my case. I’ll be on site at the oak.” She sent a dark glance toward Hadrian, almost daring him to argue.
He knew better. Though he would feel better if she were away from the delivery, he knew she would never agree. Nor should she, because she was right. This was her case. And she was a brilliant and skilled detective. They’d both survived several dangerous situations.
“Fair enough,” Teague said. “Would you mind picking me and Wycombe up at my house? That way Wycombe can arrive in a coach that looks like it belongs to someone who can afford a twenty-thousand-pound ransom.”
“Happy to,” Hadrian replied.
“We’ll fetch you at eight o’clock this evening,” Tilda said. “That will allow us to find our way to the hollow oak before full dark sets in.”
Hadrian fixed his gaze on Teague. “What if Jack doesn’t bring Miss Chadwick?”
“We’ll ensure he takes us to her,” Teague vowed, his dark eyes glinting with determination.
Tilda stood. “Good, because the safe return of Miss Chadwick is the only thing that matters.”