Chapter Six
Oh, dear. This isn’t how I’d hoped to work a new case with him.
“I suppose I’ll start a quick, cursory examination.”
“Yes, please do. I’d imagine someone from Whitehall will be along soon.” As he spoke, Felix glanced around the area. It was clear nerves were affecting him, for he kept clenching then relaxing his hand around the silver head of his cane.
After gathering her skirting, she handed Felix the umbrella so she could crouch to one side of the body. Caroline peeled back the folds of the cloak. “I think we can both agree he met his demise by stabbing in the abdomen.”
“Of course.” He nodded.
With care, she investigated the area of the victim’s clothing where the knife had penetrated.
“The blade went through the fabric of his waistcoat as well as the shirt beneath. That speaks to strength.” Trying to avoid the bulk of the bloodied clothing as best she could, Caroline peered beneath the edge of the waistcoat.
The lawn shirt beneath was stained red but the fabric had been torn, almost slashed, by the killer as they’d jostled the blade inside the peer’s gut.
“He might have survived for a bit if he were just stabbed, but because someone didn’t want that to happen, he had no chance. ”
“Also obvious.” His jaw was grimly set.
“I’ll forgive you the grouchiness because you’re worried.
” She focused back on the body with a frown.
“However, there is another tear or rip high up on the waistcoat as if the killer first attempted to ram the blade into the lord’s chest plate or strove for the heart.
” As she explained, she tapped a fingertip to the spot.
“Interesting.” Then she picked up one of the dead man’s hands.
“There are a few defensive knicks and shallow cuts in this glove.”
“Perhaps he attempted to defend himself against his attacker.”
“Perhaps.” Though something felt ‘off’ about this murder. She couldn’t put her finger on it yet, but she would think about it.
“Is there anything in his pockets?”
“Let’s see.” Starting with his waistcoat, Caroline removed his pocket watch and explored with a couple of fingers, but the pocket was empty.
“Nothing there.” After replacing the watch, she turned her attention to the greatcoat.
Aside from a handkerchief, a key, and some calling cards, there was nothing remarkable, until she came to one last pocket.
“What’s this?” She withdrew a folded scrap of paper.
“A note?” Gingerly, Felix took it from her, moved out of the rain, and then unfolded it. “It’s an address in Mayfair. No 6 Berkeley Square.”
“Even more intriguing. I wonder what it means.”
He gave her back the note. “Put this in your reticule.”
“Why?”
“The carriage is returning.”
“Ah.” Quickly, Caroline stuffed the scrap into her reticule.
By the time the carriage rolled to a halt in the same place where it had let them out earlier, her heartbeat accelerated, for a strange man alighted, and when Felix’s body stiffened beside her, she wondered exactly what had gone wrong at Bow Street that he had quit the service and how he felt about the men who still worked there.
Felix returned the umbrella to her then went down a few steps to greet the other man. “Hullo, Mason.” He extended a hand, and when the other man shook it, he led the way back up the steps. “Miss Ives, this is Principal Officer Mason. He is one of the men I trained years ago.”
Caroline nodded. “Good to meet you,” she said, but her concern was still for Felix.
“A miserable day, eh?” Principal Officer Mason said with a shiver that wracked his wide shoulders. Dark hair curled at the collar of his greatcoat. Rain dripped from the brim of his beaver felt top hat.
“For the victim? Most assuredly,” Caroline replied with a grim feeling in her chest. “Otherwise, it’s merely a regular rainy day in London.”
The other man nodded then he trained his attention on Felix. “Damn. It’s Lord Withington, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” Felix nodded. “He’s gotten grayer in the hair since I saw him last.”
Principal Officer Mason glanced at the body on the steps. “Cause of death?”
“Stabbed in the gut,” Felix was quick to answer. “To be completely honest, the knife used in this crime at one time belonged to me. I carried it throughout my military career.” Emotion thickened his voice. “However, it hasn’t been in my possession for nearly four years.”
Poor thing. He looked utterly wretched about the admission. “To be fair,” Caroline butted in, “the major has been in my company for the past few hours, and since this is a fresh kill, he couldn’t have done it.”
The other man leveled his curious hazel gaze on her face. “We’ll decide that, Miss Ives.” The look he gave her was patronizing at best.
“But, I—” She narrowed her gaze, but Felix put a hand on her shoulder in silent entreaty. His eyes pleaded with her to remain quiet and demure.
A few seconds later, another carriage pulled up behind Felix’s vehicle. Another Bow Street man exited. He lightly ran up the steps and greeted Principal Officer Mason.
“You remember Major Kourier?” he asked as he indicated Felix.
“Of course. Good to see you again, Major.”
“You as well, Anderson.” He gestured to Caroline. “This is Miss Ives. Caroline, this is Principal Officer Anderson. He joined Bow Street when I left.”
Principal Officer Mason nodded and once more sought out Felix’s gaze. “Unfortunately, Major, you need to accompany us to Whitehall. Miss Ives can return home.”
If he thought to ignore her, he could think again. As heated indignation rose in her chest, Caroline frowned. “Speak directly to me, Mr. Mason. And secondly, I don’t intend to let the major go alone to be torn apart by you and the others from circumstantial evidence only.”
The principal officer’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “Murder is no subject for a genteel lady.”
“That might be true, but murder happens regardless of a person’s rank or title or sex. I will accompany the major to make certain you don’t harass him.”
The two Bow Street men exchanged glances.
Finally, Mr. Mason nodded. “Very well. Mr. Anderson will wait for the coroner here.”
“Thank you.” She offered a tight smile then looked at Felix, who thanked her with his eyes. “I suppose we should crack on, then.”
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the building that housed Whitehall. Tension broke as she was handed out of the carriage, for nothing except silence had reigned on the ride over, and it had nearly driven her to Bedlam.
She and Felix were shown into the building and through a warren of corridors within the dark, dim, unfriendly interior, past numerous doors until they were shown into a cheerless room that contained a cluttered desk too large for the space, with two hardbacked wooden chairs in front of it, which they settled upon, facing the desk.
“It has been quite a while since I’ve seen this room,” Felix mentioned in a dry voice as he eased his gaze about the space.
“Then you know it isn’t one of the rooms we usually show guests into,” Mr. Mason said as he shed his dripping greatcoat and top hat. He laid them on a credenza behind the desk then dropped into the chair behind the desk.
On the wall behind the desk, several papers had been tacked to the surface, one of which was a handwritten list, others were charcoal drawings of possible wanted criminals, and the last was a notice that crime was more prevalent now in Town than it ever had been.
It advised the Bow Street men to stay vigilant.
Ironic.
“Let’s get to it straightaway, hmm, Major?” Mr. Mason took out a well-worn notebook from a drawer in the desk. He opened it to a fresh page and took up a pencil then looked with expectation at Felix. “How long have you known Lord Withington?”
Felix grunted. “You already know some of these answers.” He crossed his arms at his chest and proceeded to glare at his former colleague.
The other man shrugged. “This is for the written report, Major. You know that as well.”
“Fine.” After huffing out a breath, Felix nodded. “Lord Withington was my direct superior for the whole of my tenure at Bow Street, which amounted to years. And no, we never rubbed on well even from the first.”
“Why was that?” Mr. Mason wanted to know.
“Withington was a first-rate arse. He never did anything without it directly benefiting him instead of working for the common good of everyone.” The major’s frown was quite frightening.
“Every case we butted heads, and he dictated to his agents that cases must be solved within three days. You and I both know it doesn’t work that easily. ”
“I do, indeed.” The younger man scribbled a few notes. “How did your knife come to leave your possession? From your own admission, you’d carried it throughout your career in the military, so it is obviously precious to you.”
Felix’s expression wavered, but he quickly maintained control over himself.
“On the last case I worked for Bow Street, Withington and I butted heads more than usual. When I wouldn’t ‘solve’ the case in the specified time limit he put forth, the peer lost his temper, which wasn’t ever far from popping off on any given day. ”
Despite her vow to remain quiet, Caroline gasped. “What happened then?”
“What you might expect. I defended myself, gave him the facts as I knew them. That wasn’t good enough for Withington.
He demanded that I either solve the case by sundown that day or resign.
” He shrugged, and though his face remained expressionless, his eyes reflected high annoyance.
“So I slammed my license on his desk, along with my knife to show how deadly serious I was. I also turned in my notebook with any notes I’d taken over the course of the case, and then taunted him, saying if he thought it so easy, he could solve the rest.”
Good heavens. What must it have been like to see the major that aggrieved?