Chapter 22 #2
Doubt niggled at him, urging him to move, to act, as he had always done. To get back to his hunt, for as much as Preston irritated him, he had been right. The only thing that had filled Gabriel’s life after his investigation into Edmund was Sibyl’s presence.
But now that she was gone, and his investigation had been concluded—even if he had not been satisfied with it, to begin with—Gabriel had not been able to distract himself with anything else.
Now he had something.
He followed that doubt right out the door and straight to the Bow Street Runners, needing answers. He couldn’t keep questioning himself. He needed facts, and he needed to put this to bed once and for all.
“I am here to see the reports on Lord Samuel’s arrest and the accident involving the Duchess of Stonehelm,” he told the lead officer, who nodded at him, knowing exactly who he was.
He was led into a private room away from prying eyes and given sheaves of documents. He immediately began examining them. Silently, the officer placed a cup of coffee on the table before leaving him to his work, and Gabriel drained it in one gulp.
Something was wrong with some of the witness statements, the same ones he had pored over for days, but there were more inconsistencies than he recalled. Names weren’t matching up where they ought to, and the actual date on one of the statements was wrong.
There were also witnesses in the wrong location, along with claims of seeing three horses pulling the carriage, when there had only been two. Too many inconsistencies arose, and by the time Gabriel emerged, holding the reports, he felt more confused than ever.
He signed a form that allowed him to take the reports home. On his way out, he saw Preston speaking with someone across the road, and he quickly ducked away before his cousin could see him.
He wondered why Preston was in that area at all, but he was too focused on returning home to question it further.
The following night, Gabriel was poring over the reports yet again. He couldn’t let the matter go, obsessively trying to determine which witnesses were credible and which were not.
How had one person witnessed Lord Samuel, but nobody else had?
How had Lord Samuel mixed up Edmund’s title?
Nothing made sense and—
Gabriel stopped.
He found a receipt stuck to the back of one of the statements he had discarded earlier, one of the less important ones that didn’t provide much information. He plucked the receipt, noticing it was an invoice from a private investigator.
Except Gabriel knew the name of every investigator in London. He did not know a Mr. Cain Bailey. Furthermore, he did not know why Preston’s signature was on the receipt.
Why had his cousin been investigating Sibyl’s accident, and why had he not mentioned it before? His cousin had tried a few times to ask about the investigation, and Gabriel had shut him down every time. He didn’t need his cousin’s nosiness distracting him.
But why had Preston begun investigating alone?
Gabriel had just assumed his cousin was feigning interest in a bid to gain favor with the two of them. Preston had also seemed keen on speaking to Lord Samuel.
Something is not right.
Gabriel made another trip to the Bow Street Runners, wasting no time in slamming the reports down onto the desk of the officer who had let him in the previous day.
“Your Grace?”
“I need to know why Lord Preston’s signature is on this invoice, and I need to know why I was not informed of his involvement.” His voice came out in a growl.
Around him, the Runners stood to attention until one of them bolted.
“Officer Bailey, come back! After him!” the lead officer yelled.
So that is Cain Bailey.
Gabriel was already moving, flanked by the other Runners. They ran out of the office, their footsteps loud in the empty dark street.
He didn’t let Bailey out of his sight. The man had been paid off by Preston to cover up his involvement.
Anger surged through him. As Gabriel reached for the back of the man’s coat before Bailey could disappear around the corner, he was already thinking of one thousand ways to punish his cousin for the harm he had brought to his wife.
He slammed Bailey to the ground, digging a knee into his back.
Bailey shouted, twisting in a bid to throw Gabriel off, but the other Runners caught up and descended on him. Two of them pinned his arms behind his back, while two others tied his legs.
“Tell me everything,” Gabriel snarled.
“Nothing! I don’t know anything!”
Gabriel dug his knee harder into the man’s back. “Tell me.”
“All right, all right!” Bailey cried out. “I can’t breathe properly.”
“You can speak well enough,” Gabriel hissed. “So, speak.”
“I-I was paid by Lord Preston to forge a false witness statement to frame Lord Samuel, and then Lord Samuel was paid to take the fall no matter what happened, no matter his fate.”
Gabriel cursed under his breath. He had wasted so much time, but at least his suspicions were proven correct. Lord Samuel had been afraid of the setup, of death, of Preston’s control.
But why?
Gabriel wrenched himself off Bailey before the other Runners dragged him up and arrested him.
“We are not done here,” he barked, then disappeared into the night.