Chapter 24
For a bare moment, Hadrian could do nothing but gape in horror.
People screamed and nearly everyone fled the area. Those that didn’t were the disguised police and perhaps a few other curious onlookers. Spring-heeled Jack—rather, Mobray—spun around and tried to throw his cloak off. But the garment was entirely aflame.
“Water!” Hadrian yelled and others joined the chorus.
A few men raced forward and threw their wine on Mobray, which only fed the flames. Mobray screamed.
Tilda waved her hands. “Don’t throw your wine!”
By the time someone brought a pitcher of water, Mobray was on the ground and no longer moving. Parts of his leather costume were singed away. More pitchers followed, and when the flames were doused, Teague moved close to Mobray. He bent down into the steam rising from Mobray’s body.
“Is he dead?” Hadrian whispered.
“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine he’ll survive that.” Tilda strode forward to join Teague, as did several other constables along with Sergeant Wycombe.
Teague crouched down next to Mobray. “Where is Miss Redmayne?”
“Is he breathing?” Tilda asked.
“It’s difficult to tell since we can’t see his face. And I don’t want to touch him yet to remove the mask.”
Tilda’s expression took on a sheen of distaste that was akin to horror. “You may want to wait for the surgeon to remove the mask. It’s likely stuck to his charred flesh.”
Hadrian shuddered. What a horrible demise.
“I think you can touch him now,” Wycombe said. “I will if you don’t want to. Just to see if he’s conscious.”
Teague wore gloves, and he tentatively pushed at Mobray’s shoulder. “Mobray, can you hear me?”
The body didn’t move.
“Damn.” Teague rose. “How in the bloody hell will we find Miss Redmayne now?”
“The accomplice,” Tilda said. “There has to be one. How could Mobray have done all this alone? We know he had help with the performance at the chandler’s.”
Teague nodded. “We need to put all resources into finding this man.”
Mr. Redmayne approached them, striding quickly in the company of an inspector from A Division. “I just heard there was a spectacle with that monster.” He stopped short when he saw the body on the ground. “Good God, is that him?”
“I’m afraid so,” Teague replied darkly.
“What happened?” Mr. Redmayne stared at the body in shock.
“I’d say his trick to breathe blue fire went badly.” Teague stepped toward Redmayne. “He appears to be dead.”
“How will you find Florence now?” Redmayne swayed, and the A Division inspector grasped his arm to steady him. The furious father fixed his gaze on Teague. “You swore this would work!”
“No one could have predicted this would happen,” Teague said. “But we are not without other means to find your daughter. You should go home. We’re doing everything we can to rescue Miss Redmayne.”
“This is a travesty,” Redmayne cried.
“Please go with him,” Teague said to the A Division inspector.
As they left, Teague turned wearily to Constable Mercer. “Fetch the ransom bag unless someone else already grabbed it.” He looked about, his gaze settling on the couple who’d been assigned to the bench. Neither of them held the bag.
Tilda grasped Hadrian’s hand. “They don’t have it.” She started toward the path where the bench was located.
Hadrian followed her, his spine tingling. He could tell she thought something was wrong. Tilda had a heightened sense for when things weren’t right, and Hadrian had the same for when she was in prime investigative mode.
The constable who’d gone to fetch the bag came running back. “It’s gone, sir!”
Teague dashed toward them, continuing past them to the path. Tilda and Hadrian hurried after him. Indeed, the bag was no longer under the bench.
“Did anyone else pick it up?” Teague asked loudly of the remaining constables and others here working for the police.
No one replied.
Hadrian set his hand on his hip. “What if Mobray’s accomplice took the ransom?”
“That’s entirely possible,” Tilda said.
“Or it could’ve been taken by anyone.” Teague’s brows pitched together. “I hate having counterfeit notes in circulation, but I fear if we publish a notice about it, we risk alerting the accomplice that we were involved with the ransom.”
“You can’t do that whilst Miss Redmayne is still missing,” Hadrian said with concern.
“Exactly.” Teague growled with frustration.
“I would at least like to publish a notice asking anyone who was here tonight to come forward if they witnessed Spring-heeled Jack’s spectacle.
I’m sure all the papers will be going to print late tonight after what’s happened here with Spring-heeled Jack. ”
“We can stop and speak with Clement if you’d like,” Tilda offered.
“I would appreciate that, thank you. I’ll be here for some time searching for evidence and interviewing people.”
“What about Mobray’s body?” Hadrian asked.
“I dispatched Wycombe to fetch the coroner. I suppose we should at least make sure he’s dead.” Teague turned, and they walked back to the main area.
Teague went to the body again and knelt, removing his glove. Hadrian and Tilda followed him and watched as he carefully pulled down the edge of Mobray’s glove to reveal the man’s wrist. Teague felt for Mobray’s pulse. After a long moment, he shook his head.
“I want to take him back to Scotland Yard, rather than the parish mortuary,” Teague said. “We need to ensure the body remains secure. Spring-heeled Jack was notorious, and I wouldn’t put it past someone to try to steal in to see him.”
“What can we do besides speak with Clement?” Tilda asked.
“I don’t know yet. You’re welcome to come back in the morning.
I want to do a thorough investigation when we have daylight.
Or you could look for the accomplice, though we don’t have much to go on—just a vague physical description.
” He nodded toward them. “You should be on your way to speak with Clement before it’s too late. ”
“See you in the morning, then,” Tilda said.
Hadrian offered her his arm, and together they took a last look at Mobray before walking toward the King’s Road entrance where they’d come in.
“You’re unsettled,” Hadrian said. “Your curiosity was heightened when the bag was discovered missing.”
“This kidnapping is just different from the others. Delia Chadwick was connected to Mobray, and Lady Priscilla was connected to Delia Chadwick. How is Miss Redmayne connected to any of them? Why did her second note arrive early carrying a different, more vicious tone? And why did Spring-heeled Jack conduct a performance tonight when he was meant to pick up the ransom? All eyes were on him, and he clearly didn’t have the bag in his possession, which means he hadn’t yet picked up the ransom. ”
“Perhaps the accomplice fetched it for him,” Hadrian suggested.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
Hadrian smiled briefly. “You’ve taught me well.”
They reached the pay-box which now displayed a sign that read CLOSED. Across the street, Leach waited for them next to the coach. Hadrian could see the coachman’s anxiety from here.
“I heard Spring-heeled Jack caught fire,” Leach said as they approached. “Is that true?”
Hadrian related what happened, and the coachman grimaced. “Have you no way to find Miss Redmayne now?”
“We know there is an accomplice,” Tilda replied. “We need to find him, but we only know that he’s very tall and broad.”
“You also know he’s acquainted with this Mobray fellow,” Leach said.
Tilda smiled. “You’re right, Leach. Perhaps you should be making inquiries along with us.”
Leach stood a little taller, and Hadrian stifled a smile. “Happy to help in whatever way I can. To Marylebone now?”
“Actually no,” Tilda said. “To the offices of the Daily News.”
Leach nodded as he opened the door to the coach. “Right away.”
Inside, Tilda blew out a long breath and closed her eyes. Hadrian watched her for a few minutes, then removed his glove to take her hand. “We’ll find her.”
Tilda opened her eyes. “I want to share your optimism.” She sounded weary. “This has been the most difficult investigation I’ve ever conducted. I can’t help feeling as if we’re thwarted at every turn.”
Hadrian squeezed her hand gently. “We’ve been foiled before only to emerge victorious. I know you, Matilda Wren, and you do not give up. We will prevail. You don’t know how to do anything else.”
Tilda smiled at him. “How do you know exactly the right thing to say?” She squared her shoulders and steeled her features. “We will find Miss Redmayne. Anything else is unacceptable.”
“There’s London’s best and most brilliant detective,” he said softly. “And the woman I love with all my heart.” He bent his head to kiss her and was thoroughly enraptured when she kissed him back.
Still, he sensed the unease in her—perhaps because he felt it too. They would do everything in their power to find Miss Redmayne. But Hadrian also knew that sometimes, even if you tried very hard and exhausted every effort, the results were not what you hoped for.
Tilda and Hadrian arrived early at Cremorne Gardens the following morning to join Teague and his crew to search for clues and conduct interviews. They’d been able to speak with Clement last night, as well as the night editor.
Clement had eagerly recorded their account of what had happened with Spring-heeled Jack. Hadrian had encouraged him to include a few lines describing Tilda’s brilliance as a private detective since he’d yet to publish his article about her. This had caused Clement to blanch.
However, Tilda had instructed Clement not to name her or Hadrian as the witnesses for the account he was publishing. She’d told him to refer to them as “anonymous bystanders.” Clement had reluctantly agreed.
Then, in the coach, Hadrian had asked why she didn’t want Clement to name them.
She’d pointed out that they’d so far avoided newspaper coverage of their investigations together, and she thought it best that they maintained that privacy as long as possible.
Hadrian had seemed disappointed, but he hadn’t argued.