Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Benjamin drove Mungo, Ellen, and Gray to the Holton Agency.
Ivy had checked Mungo’s appearance before leaving the house. “Because it’s important they see you as an affluent gentleman just as much as they will Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher,” she’d said.
He’d allowed her to fuss with his necktie and then listened while Bram, and then Calder, lectured him on losing his temper and speaking out of turn. He’d acknowledged each word even as they jarred.
Mungo was now seated across from Gray and Ellen in the carriage, which was far too uncomfortable and small for someone of his size with a loathing for small spaces.
“If you kick me with your boot one more time, I shall not be responsible for my actions,” Ellen hissed at him.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning his legs toward Gray.
“You must behave in there. It is going to seem a bit odd having you along anyway, so stay quiet as best you can.”
“I know how to behave.”
“Is that a new thing? Because I’ve not seen evidence of that lately,” Ellen said.
“You were such a sweet child.”
She poked out her tongue at him then, which had his lips twitching. Ellen had always done that when she didn’t know what else to say to win a debate.
“Miss Downing is nice,” she added, and the look in her eyes might appear innocent, but he was instantly on alert.
“She is,” Gray said. “You and she seem to get along well,” he lied.
“We can’t stand each other.”
“I noticed you look at her a great deal,” Ellen said, ignoring his words. “And such a sad life she’s had—”
“Stop now.”
“Stop what?” Gray said, smirking.
“I could wipe that smirk off your face,” Mungo said.
“But you won’t because you love him like you do all of us. Now, back to Miss Downing. She certainly knows how to keep you in line and doesn’t take a back step when you’re rude or start growling,” Ellen added. “Plus there’s that thing between you.”
Mungo yawned and looked out the window. He knew that to engage was unwise. The best way to defuse this was to remain silent.
“She’d be perfect for you,” Gray persisted.
“If you don’t desist—”
“Wonderful, we are here,” Ellen said as the carriage stopped. “We’ll continue this later.”
“We absolutely will not, and you’ll not think to meddle in my life, Ellen. I’ve no wish for a wife.”
“Do you think of Miss Downing that way, then?” Gray asked. He then flung the door open and leapt down before Mungo could grab him.
Ellen followed, laughing.
“Right then, I will do the talking,” Gray said.
Ellen nodded, as did Mungo, but he bared his teeth at both of them.
The Holton Agency was in a respectable London street, with houses attached on either side. They walked through a black iron gate and up the path to the front door.
Gray knocked.
The door opened and there stood a young woman of about Ellen’s age, Mungo would say. She was immaculately dressed in pale blue and had a smile in place. “Good day to you.”
“We wish to speak with Mrs. Holton, if you please, about retaining the services of a maid for our daughter,” Gray said.
“We usually require an appointment, but if you’ll come this way, I shall see if Mrs. Holton can see you.”
The woman ushered them inside after shooting Mungo a questioning look.
“This is my cousin. He lives alone and needs a new housekeeper,” Ellen said. “Isn’t that so, cousin?” she added loudly. “He is hard of hearing,” she then whispered.
Mungo gritted his teeth and nodded.
The woman smiled and led them down a hall and into a small parlor.
“It’s very well presented,” Ellen said.
They did not have to wait long before the woman returned.
“Mrs. Holton has time to meet with you before her next appointment, if you’ll come this way.”
They were ushered up a set of stairs and into a room that had a window overlooking the street.
A woman stood behind a large desk, smiling. “Good day to you. I am Mrs. Holton. I understand you are in need of staff?”
She was a tall lady, her snow-white hair arranged—Mungo suspected—in the very latest fashion. She wore deep green velvet that lent her an air of quiet authority. The room around her was immaculate, its few pieces of furniture polished to a dignified sheen.
“Good day to you,” Gray said. “I am Mr. Rutherford, and this is my wife. We have brought her cousin, Mr. Percival Tolland-Brackenshaw, with us, as he is in need of a housekeeper also. Of course, it is not easy for him to retain help, seeing as he has a propensity to yell at them due to his hearing.”
Mungo swallowed the snarl. They were having fun at his expense, and he could do nothing about it… yet.
“We shall, of course, be honored to help!” Mrs. Holton yelled in his direction.
“Excellent. Now, our daughter is of an age where she is in need of a maid,” Gray said. “She will enter society next year, and I fear the current one will not be up to the mark when she does.”
Mrs. Holton retook her seat behind the desk after Gray and Ellen had taken theirs, and began to make notes.
“We at Holton’s will have just the right candidate for you, but before we set up an interview, I will explain how things are run here at the agency and our expectations from the girls.”
Mungo kept his eyes on her for the next fifteen minutes as she rattled on about decorum and rules. His mind, however, was somewhere else.
Eliza had likely been in this room. She’d been subjected to this woman lecturing her about her behavior and then interviewed before being interviewed again later by Ivy and Bram.
“Oh dear!” Ellen said, suddenly grabbing her stomach.
“What has happened, dear?” Gray said in a hard tone.
“I, ah—I’m in need of a privy at once,” Ellen said in a tight voice.
Mungo doubted that was true and wondered what her game was.
Mrs. Holton leapt to her feet. “If you’ll come this way at once.”
“I-I need your help, Mr. Rutherford,” she said to Gray.
Odder and odder. She wanted Gray out of the room. Ellen let out a loud wail of pain, and Gray held up his wife as they rushed out. He threw Mungo a warning look as they left.
Mungo got to his feet and hurried to the desk. He dropped to his haunches and then began opening and closing drawers, looking for what, he had no idea. But clearly Ellen wanted him to do something, hence the distraction she’d provided. He found nothing but quills ink, and paper.
There had to be more.
Dropping lower, he crouched and swept his gaze beneath the desk, driven by nothing more than a certainty that if something had been hidden, it would not be where any one thought to look.
His fingers brushed a raised strip of wood. He stilled.
Carefully, he pressed it. The panel slid aside with a faint whisper, revealing a narrow cavity—just large enough for a hand. His pulse quickened as he reached inside, feeling nothing at first… then the unmistakable edge of leather.
He pushed the panel wider and drew out a book. Then another.
Two ledgers were hidden inside.
After closing the panel, he made his way back to his chair while stuffing the ledgers into the back of his trousers. He then sat and crossed his legs, heart thudding hard inside his chest.
When they returned, Ellen looking the picture of health, he was swinging his leg and looking bored.
“I think we should leave,” Gray said. “I will send my man to make an appointment to view the maid, Mrs. Holton. My wife does not look well, and as she is in a delicate condition—”
“Say no more,” Mrs. Holton said quickly.
“My wife’s cousin will make a decision on your agency also,” Gray added as he shepherded Ellen out the door.
Mungo followed with a nod to Mrs. Holton. They made their way back to the carriage, and only when they were inside and it had started moving did Gray say with remarkable calm, “What the hell was that about?”
“Did you see the painting on the wall of the stiff-necked old man in the gilt frame?”
Mungo and Gray nodded. It was behind the desk on the rear wall.
“I saw that in a vision two days ago but dismissed it, as I thought there was no hope I’d see it again. Sometimes that happens.” Ellen shrugged.
“And so?”
“And so, Gray—honestly, you are the detective. Surely you can understand why I did what I did?”
“You think you saw that painting and that means Mrs. Holton is in some way involved in my niece and Polly’s disappearance,” Mungo said as Gray opened his mouth. “Therefore, you wanted me to search her desk for anything that may incriminate her and lead us to Fenella.”
“There, you see?” Ellen jabbed her husband in the chest with a finger. “Mungo completely understood why I did what I did. Perhaps he should have been a detective.”
“Absolutely not,” Mungo said, sitting forward in his seat. He then removed the ledgers from the back of his trousers.
“You stole from her,” Gray said, sighing.
“Hand one of those over to me at once,” Ellen said. “I am not as righteous as my husband.”
Gray leaned over her shoulder as she opened it. Mungo did the same with the second book. There was silence in the carriage while they read.
“Mine is a list of names. My guess is, they are the women who have signed with the agency,” Mungo said. “Pages and pages of them, all numbered.”
They were in alphabetical order. He flipped to the D’s, ran a finger down, and found Eliza.
It bothered him that there was an S next to her name but not the others on that page.
He flipped through until the names ended and found a few more S’s.
One of those was Polly Watts. Then he came to a page titled Problem Girls.
He ran down the list, reading a few of the names and what they’d done wrong in the eyes of the judgmental Mrs. Holton.
And then he saw her name.
Eliza Downing—needs to be dealt with for the trouble she caused Mr. Parson.
Polly Watts requested by B-Boy to be marked a special. Previous connections.
Christ.
The last page contained the names of locations.
“This is protected by some kind of code,” Gray whispered. “Sets of three numbers, but what do they correspond to?”
They swapped books, and he looked at the columns.
“We need to get back to Miss Downing,” Ellen said. “She is marked as a special girl, and while I don’t know what that means, I feel it’s not good.”
“Especially as Polly Watts has an S next to her name too,” Mungo said, the fear inside him rising.
“Do you remember what those women in that tea shop said about the special girls?” Ellen said. “That they went to Europe.”
“We need to go back to the Holton Agency and confront that woman,” Gray said, still reading one of the journals.
Mungo had his eyes on Ellen, so he saw the moment her face paled. Her eyes were suddenly empty of expression as she swayed. Gray grabbed her, pulling her to his side. When she came back to them, her words were whispered.
“Hurry. Eliza is in danger. I saw her gagged, and bound, and lying in the back of a cart.”