Chapter Twenty-Three
Following the visit to the mortuary, Jack and Tobias spent the rest of the day first attending Jeremiah’s residence, which showed signs of a small struggle but nothing else inside to assist in identifying his killer.
Then they conducted a canvass of his street and neighborhood trying to find anyone who might have seen or heard something, but again, no one had heard a thing.
It had been an exercise in frustration and Jack was beginning to wonder if they’d ever get the breakthrough they needed.
And to make matters worse, she now found herself in the entrance hall of her own residence, having had to wait, rather impatiently, for Tobias as he finished his walkthrough of her townhouse.
“It’s all locked and secured,” Tobias said, striding into the entrance hall from the far corridor.
“I told you it was,” she replied pertly. “You didn’t have to go to all of this trouble to check. I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.” She’d been doing it for the past fifteen years and would continue doing so for the rest of her life, without his help.
“One of the most depraved killers I’ve seen in my entire career not only knows where you live but wants you involved in all this,” Tobias stated.
“So, forgive me for wanting to satisfy myself that you are indeed safe and protected. Because protect you, Miss Maguire, is what I will do, despite your protests to the contrary.”
“Jack,” she replied, not really knowing how to respond to his declaration.
Since her father had died, no man, let alone a police officer, had wished to make sure she was safe and protected.
It was unsettling, and she didn’t like it at all.
Especially because the idea of him protecting her was strangely nice and far too easy to get used to.
Which would not help her in the long run.
“You wished me to call you ‘Tobias,’” she clarified at his slightly confused look.
“So, when we’re alone, you must also call me ‘Jack.’”
“You feel you can trust me enough now, do you?” His lips twisted into a half smile to which she was starting to become accustomed. “Very well, then. Jack it is.”
For a moment, as their eyes locked on one another’s, Jack felt a sense of connection with him.
And even though she barely knew him, she felt safe with him, and that she might possibly even be able to trust him.
And she rarely trusted anyone. It was an odd feeling to have. “Why did you join the police?”
The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it, but it was a question she was curious to hear his answer to. After all, she knew of no other police officer who was a lord by birth.
“You mean why did an earl’s son bother to become a police officer?”
“Yes.” It couldn’t have been for the money because police officers, even those at the rank of inspector, made a pittance compared to those in other professions.
“I don’t imagine your family would have approved or even encouraged you to join such a…
profession.” Out of courtesy to Tobias, she’d call it that, rather than what she actually thought the whole institution was: a corrupt bunch of swindlers doing all they could to make a quid, by any means necessary, including batons and fists.
Though Tobias did seem to be the exception.
“No, they didn’t approve,” he confirmed. “They’re still trying to get me to resign and return back to the fold, even though it’s been nearly sixteen years since I joined. It’s a regular discussion my father tries to have with me, which often results in a yelling match between us both.”
“I can’t imagine you yelling,” she observed. The man standing before her was proud and logical, with a quiet command that didn’t need him to raise his voice to get people to listen or obey.
“When it comes to dealing with my father, let’s just say logic flies out the window.”
“Why did you join the police, then, if it causes so many issues with you and your family?” Jack would give anything to have her family back.
“Why do you do what you do?” he countered.
“Apart from not having a wealthy family to rely financially on?” She raised her brow. “Doing what I do allows me to help those who can’t help themselves.”
“That’s why I joined the police too,” he replied. “As Inspector Flint, I can help others I never could have helped as the Honorable Tobias Flint, second son of the Earl of Arlington. And for the record, they don’t support me financially. Not since I joined the police. My father saw to that.”
“A lot to give up in the pursuit of helping others.”
“For some, it would be.” He shrugged. “But for those who value life over wealth, it’s not a sacrifice at all.”
“But murder is so dark and depressing.” Jack couldn’t imagine being surrounded by it every day.
“It is, but those who are murdered are silenced before their time. It’s my job to give them a voice in death and to seek justice for them. A bit like your agency, if the rumors I’ve heard about what you do here are correct.”
“My agency is nothing like the police.” She crossed her hands across her chest. “And I’m not sure what rumors you’ve heard, or what you think we do here, but we actually solve our cases and truly help people.
We don’t take advantage of them by using threats or intimidation, as most police do.
Though I’ll admit, perhaps you’re the exception to the rule. ”
Tobias smiled, not even seeming a bit upset with her bold assertions. “Just perhaps?”
“The jury is still out,” she replied, her own lips quirking up slightly at the corners. Who’d ever have thought she might enjoy talking with a man of the law?
A loud banging on the front door had her spinning around to face it, while Tobias stalked past her, his hand at the ready over his revolver.
“Inspector Flint!” a voice from outside entrance yelled. “It’s Detective Rollings. We might have something, sir.”
Before immediately opening the door, Tobias glanced out the window. Obviously satisfied with whoever he saw standing there, he opened the door and motioned in a well-dressed young man in a blue suit with a white shirt.
“What have you found, Andrew?” Tobias asked the detective, who was staring at him with excitement flashing in his brown eyes.
“Sergeant Kellerman and I were canvassing some of the houses around the area, asking about any missing women in the neighborhood, and we’ve found one that could be relevant to our current case.
The woman who’s missing, her family said she went missing last Friday after she went for a job interview, and no one has seen her since. ”
“The day before our first victim was murdered,” Tobias replied. “Where’s Iain now?”
“The sergeant’s still with the woman’s father and mother. He sent me to the local station to call you at the Yard, but when I did, they said you were here at the Hart Agency, so I rushed over here to fetch you.”
“Where’s the woman’s house?” Tobias asked.
“Not far from here, actually,” Detective Rollings replied. “About a five-minute brisk walk.”
“Lead the way.” Tobias turned to Jack. “Are you coming, Miss Hart?”
“You couldn’t stop me if you tried, Inspector.
” She strode over to the coat rack and grabbed her thick, wool cloak from the peg before swinging it over her shoulders.
It would not only keep her warm on the cold evening, but the cloak had many concealed pockets housing a variety of objects that she often made use of in her own matters of inquiry.
Though it was missing her favorite dagger that had disappeared the other day, with Jack having no idea where it was.
“I imagine I’ll be able to see things you might miss. ”
“If any other lady had said that, I would scoff,” Tobias said as he followed her out the door and down the entrance steps to the street, where the detective was waiting for them, before he turned on his heel and led the way.
“But when it comes to you, Miss Hart, I’ve quickly learned not to discount that. ”
“That is wise of you, Inspector. How very odd in a police officer.”
He laughed in response, the sound echoing along the crisp wind of the still-bustling street.
It might have been nearly seven in the evening, but London never really slept. It was one of the things Jack loved most about the city. The night also provided very good cover for her and her agents to do a lot of their work in.
Five minutes later, just as the detective had said, they arrived in front of a small terrace, comprising of four levels with two flats on each floor, housing a family in each.
The detective led the way up the wooden stairs to the second level, where the door to a flat was flung wide and inside was the giant, red-haired sergeant Jack had observed at the scene of the murder earlier in the day.
The sergeant was sitting at a small, round dining table, across from an elderly woman who was pouring some tea from a teapot into some China cups that had seen better days.
The woman was gripping the handle of the pot almost as if it were a lifeline, the paper-thin skin on the back of her hand white from the effort.
Off to the side of the tiny dining area was an old man with gray hair wearing some patched brown trousers and a worn white work shirt, staring out the window down to the street below, his body frail and stooped, looking as if a stiff breeze might knock him over.
His eyes anxiously glanced towards them as they walked into the flat.
They must be the missing woman’s parents, Jack guessed.
The sergeant stood, his gaze immediately glancing first to Tobias and then across at Jack. She caught the glimpse of suspicion in his eyes before he turned to Tobias and raised a brow.
“This is Miss Hart,” Tobias said, in answer to the unspoken question. “She’s a consultant on our case.”