Chapter 3 #3
That was something else Tilda had failed to do—prepare her client for the very real possibility that his daughter would not be returned immediately. In her haste to act on the ransom delivery plan, she’d neglected to think everything through.
“You presume?” Mr. Chadwick sneered. “I don’t think you know a thing about what you’re doing. How on earth you managed to gain a reputation for solving crimes is a mystery I doubt you could solve.”
“There’s no call to be insulting,” Hadrian said sharply. “Miss Wren is highly qualified. I wholly endorsed her decision to seek assistance from the Met.”
Tilda fixed a determined stare on Mr. Chadwick. “My primary goal is the return of your daughter, and I believed our best hope of doing so was the involvement of Detective Inspector Teague.”
“But you promised me that you wouldn’t involve the police,” Chadwick snapped. “If you felt it was necessary, you should have said so.”
“When I made that promise, I hadn’t seen the second ransom note asking for a payment with no information about when or where the kidnapper would return your daughter.
I found it necessary to involve Detective Inspector Teague because of the risk of a ransom delivery about which we lacked important details. ”
“You didn’t explain any of that to me,” Mr. Chadwick snarled.
Tilda’s heart raced, but she managed to keep an even tone. “No, and I should have. However, you were very upset—as you should be—and I made a judgment call to proceed in the safest and best way possible.”
“I was there, Chadwick,” Hadrian said. “I don’t think you would have cooperated with our efforts with the Met, and that was the best course of action, even if you don’t agree.”
“It most certainly was,” Teague added. “You should have informed us of your daughter’s kidnapping immediately.”
Mr. Chadwick didn’t react to Hadrian or Teague. In fact, he didn’t take his attention from Tilda. “I will make sure you never work again. If anything happens to my daughter, her blood will be on your hands.”
Ice froze Tilda’s veins, despite the heat of Chadwick’s fury.
Hadrian moved close to her side and tried to take her hand, but she wouldn’t let him.
Her avoidance wasn’t about hiding their relationship whilst they were working.
It was about her not wanting or deserving to be soothed.
Mr. Chadwick was right that this was her fault.
Tilda managed to swallow. “We will find your daughter, and I will return your money.”
Mr. Chadwick continued to regard her with fury and contempt. “I certainly hope so.”
Teague looked to Mr. Chadwick and to his coachman. “I need a full description of the man who attacked you and took the money as well as a detailed account of what happened.”
“It was Spring-heeled Jack,” Mr. Chadwick announced coldly. “He was immense, with waxy, pale skin, red eyes, devilish horns, and horrible sharp claws.”
Leach cleared his throat. “I heard the coach approaching on the road. I thought it was just a traveler, until it stopped behind me. I turned my head, and that’s when I saw a dark figure in the road next to the coach.
“The coachman jumped down on the other side and opened the door for Mr. Chadwick who climbed out. The dark figure circled around the back of the coach and leapt at Mr. Chadwick. That’s when Mr. Chadwick began shouting, after which he fell to the ground.
The coachman had fetched his pistol and faced the brigand who then breathed blue flame at him.
” Leach shook his head, his gaze darting toward Hadrian.
“I can’t explain what I saw, but it was as if he exhaled blue fire. ”
“Did you shoot at him?” Hadrian asked.
Leach’s brows gathered. “I wasn’t able to, for the coachman was blocking my aim. He shot at the brigand, however.”
“The blue flame is why my shot went awry,” the coachman explained, his eyes wide. “I was momentarily blinded.”
“When did the brigand obtain the ransom?” Teague asked, looking toward Leach, as if he expected the better answer from him. Tilda found no fault with that since Leach seemed calmer and more reliable as a witness than the excited coachman.
“The beast must have grabbed it from the coach whilst I couldn’t see,” the coachman replied with distress.
As Teague shifted his gaze toward Leach once more, Hadrian’s coachman nodded in response.
“That’s how it happened. I considered taking a shot at that moment, but I didn’t want to risk injuring Mr. Chadwick’s coachman.
Furthermore, I didn’t want to cause serious injury to the suspect since it seemed he did not have Miss Chadwick with him. ”
Tilda felt immense pride in Leach’s quick—and excellent—assessment. It seemed Hadrian felt the same for he was looking at his coachman with keen admiration.
“You said he ‘leapt’ away,” Teague noted to Mr. Chadwick’s coachman as Wycombe wrote in a book. The sergeant had moved closer to the lantern so he could see better. “What exactly did you mean by that?”
The coachman nodded vehemently. “I saw him jump over that hedge.” He pointed to the other side of the Spaniards Road.
“He didn’t run along the road, but across it?” Teague asked, glancing at Leach who nodded.
“That’s right,” the coachman replied. “He disappeared into the trees over there.”
“You must go after him!” Mr. Chadwick insisted.
Teague exhaled, and Tilda detected his frustration. “Not in the dark. We’ll return as soon as it’s light to conduct a thorough investigation of the area.” He looked pointedly at Mr. Chadwick. “We will find your daughter. Go home now and tend to your wounds.”
“How am I to tell my wife about this failure?” Mr. Chadwick appeared suddenly beleaguered, and Tilda felt a surge of sorrow for his situation.
“We don’t know that it’s a failure,” Tilda said gently. “We have to believe the kidnapper will return her with haste.”
“By providing the ransom, you have put your faith in the very man who stole your daughter,” Teague said darkly. “But we will catch him.”
Mr. Chadwick’s throat worked, but he ultimately said nothing before turning and stalking to his coach whilst his coachman hurried to assist him.
Teague let out a weary sigh as he scrubbed his hand over his face. “How I wish Chadwick hadn’t interrupted us tonight. He wouldn’t have been injured, the ransom wouldn’t have been taken, and we likely would have apprehended the kidnapper.”
They all watched as Chadwick’s coachman drove away.
Tilda voiced the fear that had worked its way up her throat since the kidnapper had disappeared with the ransom. “I’m afraid we must behave as though Miss Chadwick won’t be returned. It’s up to us to find her.” She turned to Hadrian. “We have the lists of her friends and tutors. Let’s start there.”
Normally, this investigative work would excite and inspire Tilda, but she felt heavy and uncertain.
She should have spent more time making inquiries and not relying on tonight’s plan to return Miss Chadwick.
She was still out there somewhere, frightened and alone, and they needed to rescue her as quickly as possible. Tilda doubted she would sleep tonight.
“I’d like those lists,” Teague said. “I realize tomorrow is Sunday, but I’ll be at Scotland Yard—after we come here to search at first light.”
“Certainly,” Tilda said. “We’ll meet you here, and I’ll bring them.”
Teague inclined his head. “Thank you for your efforts this evening. I’m sorry things didn’t turn out better. Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll find Miss Chadwick.”
Hadrian escorted Tilda to the coach, along with Leach and Brian. He looked over at his coachman. “Well done, Leach.”
“I should have pursued the brigand,” Leach said harshly, his brow deeply furrowed.
They’d arrived at the coach, and Tilda turned to face Leach. “I’m glad you didn’t. We’ve no idea what danger may have awaited you on the other side of the road, or what other tricks the kidnapper might have tried.”
Leach’s eyes narrowed. “I should like to know how he made it appear he was breathing blue flame.”
“As would I,” Hadrian agreed. “I intend to find out, along with why he’s taken on this disguise. What purpose could he have?”
“You just said it yourself. It’s a disguise,” Leach suggested. “Why not Spring-heeled Jack?”
“There must be some reason for it,” Tilda said. “Determining that might help us find him—and Miss Chadwick. That is our primary mission.”
Tilda and Hadrian climbed into the coach, and they were quickly on their way. Exhaustion settled into Tilda’s body though her mind was spinning. “We must make as many inquiries as possible tomorrow, despite it being Sunday.”
“We will.” Hadrian took her hand and looked into her eyes. “But promise me you will rest—as much as you can anyway.”
She appreciated that he knew her so well. “I will try.”
“I hope you won’t let what Chadwick said in anger trouble you.”
“He’s entitled to his opinion. I broke the promise I made to him about involving the police. And now he’s without his daughter and twenty thousand pounds.”
“Neither of those things are your fault, Tilda. We had to inform Teague.” Hadrian squeezed her hand and kept hold of her whilst he settled back against the squab. “Chadwick will come to his senses. He was merely venting his fury tonight.”
Tilda hoped that was true, for if Mr. Chadwick set out to ruin her, she’d no doubt he could.