Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
“We can only hope Miss Mahoney is more honest than she was the last time,” Gideon said as their hired carriage rolled toward Charlotte Street.
“If I can lay my hand on her, or something she’s touched, she may not need to be.
” Electra removed her gloves in anticipation of entering the lady’s house again.
But worry began to settle in, like a stone in the pit of her stomach.
They needed to find Demeter Devlin, but her abilities did not always work as she wished them to.
“There is also another card we might play,” she murmured.
“Oh?” Gideon had been watching her slip her gloves off, his eyes fixed on her hands, but looked up, seemingly intrigued.
“She has heard of me and said she read about me in the papers. I could…” Electra hesitated.
“Yes?” he prompted.
“I know you're the most honest of people, Gideon, and the prospect of telling an untruth is beyond your fathoming.”
He frowned fiercely. “You think me incapable of deception? You do remember the state I was in when your father found me? I was a pickpocket, Electra.”
Electra remembered that boy all too well, and how quickly he’d gone from the urchin her father took in to her dearest ally. “I do not think you are incapable of it, only that you disdain it now.”
He looked only slightly mollified. “It is a well-known technique of detectives.”
“Yes, I am aware, Detective Inspector Pierce. Being the daughter of a detective myself.” She grinned mischievously. “But Father was not like you.” Not as noble, she wished to say, but she suspected Gideon would disagree.
“He was, at times, less than scrupulous.” There were facts Gideon did not know about her father, and she had perceived those secrets as things Gideon would not truly wish to know.
“What do you mean by that?” His tone had softened.
Their carriage had to be nearing Charlotte Street. “I'm not sure this is the time for that conversation,” she told him.
“Perhaps not, but I would very much like to have that conversation with you,” he said earnestly, then added, “If you would trust me with it.”
“Of course, I trust you. The only reason I haven't talked about it previously is that I know you hold him in such high regard.”
“He saved my life, Electra.”
Memories rushed in and she smiled again. “And I will forever be grateful he did.”
Gideon smiled too, then ducked his head a moment before fixing her with a firm stare. “But to return to the matter at hand, I am capable of deceit or of concealing facts and have done so in prior investigations.”
“Very well, then follow my lead when we speak to Miss Mahoney, if I say something you know or believe to be untrue.”
“What do you intend?”
“Well, it seems that you suspect Demeter Devlin murdered Percival Pennington.”
Gideon worked his jaw, pensive. “I did not believe it was a crime a woman capable of committing, but strong emotions can make a person capable of almost anything.”
“If she prevaricates with us, I may tell Miss Mahoney that I know her sister was involved,” Electra admitted. “I may lead her to believe I know more than I do.”
“And if she simply denies it?”
“She might, but we have some advantages. At this juncture, she does not even know that we are aware Mrs. Devlin is her sister.”
“Shall we play it by ear?” he asked, as if they hadn’t always done so when they worked together on previous investigations.
“Yes, as long as you trust me that much,” she said, a bit of challenge in her tone.
“I trust you entirely,” he said, his voice low and unwavering.
On Charlotte Street, Miss Mahoney’s maid, Alison, greeted them, eyes wide with shock at finding them at the doorstep again.
“Detective Inspector Pierce and Miss Poole,” she said.
“Hello again,” Electra said congenially. “We would like to speak to Miss Mahoney. Is she at home?”
The girl swallowed thickly. “She is not at home, miss.” She spoke the words slowly, almost forced.
“Are you certain?” Electra smiled, trying to reassure her, hoping Gideon would not intervene and frighten the girl further. “You sound unsure, but it’s all right. You may tell us the truth.”
The young maid’s brown eyes kept lifting to glance at Gideon.
“We need to speak with her, Alison,” Electra said. “Please let us in.”
The girl gave a shaky nod and stepped back to allow them inside.
“I'll just go up and see if Miss Mahoney is available to speak to you.”
Electra shot Gideon a look once they were admitted.
“She’s here then,” he whispered as the maid climbed the stairs.
A knock could be heard upstairs, then voices and footsteps.
“I told you we do not want to be disturbed,” Miss Mahoney said, her voice low but faintly audible downstairs.
Alison said something more softly, then a door slammed. Soon, the girl was descending to speak with them again.
“She says she won't see anyone right now. You'll have to come back another time.”
Electra knew Gideon wouldn’t allow the refusal. He finally stepped forward.
“I am afraid that won't be possible,” he said in an uncharacteristically soft tone. “We need to speak to her now on an urgent matter of police business.”
The young maid shook her head. “Beg pardon, sir. She says no, and I cannot gainsay—”
“Would you fetch me a cup of tea?” Electra interjected.
The girl blinked, brow knitting. “Tea, miss?”
“I’m feeling most unwell,” Electra told her, then bent closer and whispered, “I don't want you to get in trouble.”
But while she was attempting to get the girl out of the room so that they could go up the stairs and leave her none the wiser, Gideon strode past them and began climbing the stairs.
“Oh, sir!” Alison gave out a cry of betrayal.
“Go,” Electra told her. “You went to the kitchen to fetch me a cup of tea, and we went up and you couldn't stop us. Yes? It will be all right. Just go.”
A tear slipped down the young maid’s cheek, but she nodded and headed off down the hall.
Electra followed Gideon up the stairs, lifting the edge of her skirts to dash up quickly. There was a long hallway at the top with four doors along it, two on each side. All of them were closed.
Gideon stepped to the first on the left, leaning his head toward the wood, listening. Electra did the same to the door on the other side of the hall. She heard nothing and suspected Gideon didn't either. He looked at her, then proceeded down the hall to the next room.
Electra did the same, and in that room, she could hear the muffled sound of two ladies conversing quietly.
“This one,” she whispered.
Gideon joined her and knocked on the door. There was no response. Gideon pounded harder, this time with the side of his fist. “Miss Mahoney, it’s Detective Pierce of Scotland Yard. I must speak with you. It's most urgent.”
Electra swallowed, licked her lips, and stepped closer. “Miss Mahoney, it’s Electra Poole. When I saw you yesterday, I touched a glass that was sitting on the table and I saw Mrs. Devlin.”
She looked up at Gideon, who nodded for her to continue.
“I know she's your sister and that you're very protective of her. I'm worried about her too, but I believe I can help you.” She laid her hand on the doorknob. “But you have to let me in so I may do so.”
To her shock, the latch twisted and the door opened a crack. Eleanor Mahoney stood on the other side.
“I am willing admit you, Miss Poole, but I do not wish to speak to the inspector.”
Electra couldn’t allow that. “I am afraid we come as a pair, Miss Mahoney.”
“We both need to speak with you,” Gideon said, his hand on the door panel.
Electra suspected he was prepared to push in if required.
Then she saw a flash of movement over Miss Mahoney's shoulder.
“There's someone else in the room,” she murmured.
Gideon forced the door farther open.
“No!” Miss Mahoney screamed. “No, stop.”
But she hadn’t moved quickly enough. Gideon strode past her.
In the corner of the room stood the woman Electra had met days ago.
Demeter Devlin huddled in a corner, eyes wide, shivering.
Her long auburn hair fell past her shoulders in a tangle.
She had the look of a cornered animal. She was pale, gaunt, as if she hadn't eaten or slept much in the days since Electra met her.
“You needn’t say anything to them, Demeter,” Miss Mahoney said as she walked over swiftly and planted herself in front of her sister.
Only then did Electra notice the small blade in Miss Mahoney’s hand. A pocketknife, held down at her side, while she held her other hand out, palm up, as if to stop them from approaching.
“Leave my house,” she told them, eyes wild as she looked at Gideon, then Electra.
“I…need to speak. I must tell someone.” The words were spoken in broken murmur.
Miss Mahoney turned her back on them and braced her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “Please don’t. Trust me, Demmie. We can find a way out of this and keep you safe.”
A pale hand came up to cup Miss Mahoney’s cheek. “I know you're frightened. I am too, but I'm tired of the lies, Nell.”
“Anything you wish to tell me, I wish to hear it,” Gideon said, still employing that soft tone he’d used with the frightened maid.
Miss Mahoney shot him a scalding glare over her shoulder, then turned back to her sister. “I can send them away.”
“No,” Demeter said, her voice stronger now and eerily calm. “I need it off of me. To free myself. It is like an anchor pulling me to the sea bottom.”
Miss Mahoney pivoted to face them again. “Can we at least go downstairs. We may all speak together there.”
Electra did not trust that claim and suspected Gideon did not either.
“No,” he said, “we speak here or I escort you downstairs.”
“I require an escort in my own home?” Miss Mahoney sneered.
“We will go downstairs with you,” Demeter Devlin said, stepping out from behind her sister and patting at her hair as if yearning to put it in order.
“She is not going to climb out of a two-story window, Inspector.”
“I want to be certain of that, Miss Mahoney. It is very important that I hear what she needs to tell me.”
“Come then,” Demeter said.