Chapter 3
Three
It wasn’t as if Brodie and I hadn’t worked apart in the past. Certain cases required both of us to follow different leads, then return to the office on the Strand to determine our next course to follow. There had even been cases that I worked separately, while Brodie pursued another.
Within a matter of days, he had accepted the position after additional discussion with Sir Ridley regarding the specific responsibilities, what his authority covered, along with several additional meetings with those he would interact with under the new authority.
For my part, I proceeded with my inquiries regarding the Ellsworth case by first requesting to see a copy of the police report.
Mr. Dooley assisted in that as he had in the past, and in the way of things, he was already aware of the new position Brodie had taken. So much for covert aspects, I thought.
Brodie still appeared at the office. He owned the building on the Strand, and there were no arrangements to be made in that regard.
He insisted on meeting with Mr. Cavendish and Mr. Dooley with assurances that the inquiry business would continue under my direction, including the Ellsworth case.
We both returned to Cadogan Square of an evening from our daily appointments, as he was drawn more and more into the position of Director of the CID.
I poured a dram of my great-aunt’s whisky, then we each shared the events of our day that included the newest developments on the construction of the townhouse in Mayfair, before taking supper prepared by Mrs. Ryan.
Still, it was impossible to ignore that something had most definitely changed, and I was trying to accept that.
When at the office, I made my notes as usual when taking on a case.
In the past when we worked separately, we left notes for each other.
I did notice that while the notes I left for him regarding the Ellsworth case were filled with my thoughts, observations, and a list of those I wanted to speak with, his notes back to me were vague, sharing very little detail of the work he had taken on in the new position.
At night, he often returned late after more meetings throughout the day. If he was preoccupied with something, he reminded me that there were aspects of his work that he could not share.
I was trying very hard to be the supportive wife and partner, then sharing with him the progress I had made in the matter of Sir Thomas Ellsworth’s death.
Yet even though I shared those details, he simply nodded, accepted another dram of whisky after supper, then reminded me that it was time to go to bed, as he had a meeting early the next morning.
“What of your inquiries for Eugenia Ellsworth?” Aunt Antonia inquired when I told her of Brodie’s appointment to the position.
“I will be continuing in that regard. I have information that I will follow.”
Just that day, I had gone to the Yard, where Mr. Dooley had arranged for me to read the report that was taken when Thomas Ellsworth was murdered and the investigation that had followed.
There was a frown on her face as we shared coffee in the office on the Strand. In Munro’s absence, she had taken it upon herself to drive her new motor car across the city. She referred to it as ‘escaping,’ as he was still in Edinburgh.
“One occasionally needs to escape, and this new one is such fun to drive. It has a steering wheel instead of a stick and handle, a glass shield to protect against flying debris, and a horn!”
She was particularly fond of the horn. In fact, she had announced her arrival at the curb below, on the street, this very morning.
She set her cup on the saucer on the edge of the desk.
“And I must admit, with Lily and Munro both gone, it is quite boring at Sussex Square. And I can see that you will most definitely need assistance in this particular instance,” she announced. “I am just the person for the job.”
I should have seen it coming. She had been hinting rather strongly over the past year that ‘surely Brodie and I needed someone to assist in our inquiries.’ Someone who knew their way about London, having been born there, was connected to those in high positions including the Royal Family, was quite clever, and not at all intimidated by anyone she might encounter.
And now, as she pointed out, she could get about quickly with the new motor car.
“I will need a weapon, for self-defense of course.”
Of course, I thought. An eighty-seven-year-old woman turned loose on the streets of London with a firearm.
“I do know how to fire one. My father took me hunting with him when I was a child. Of course, the weapons have changed a bit. I shall have Mr. Symons make inquiries. The newer weapons cannot be all that difficult—load in the powder and ball, pull back the hammer, aim, and fire. I can learn to replenish my powder.”
I did point out that firearms had advanced somewhat beyond the powder-and-ball models her father had used which were displayed in the sword room at Sussex Square.
“Then, one like the revolver you carry. Oh, this is going to be quite an adventure!”
I put off that particular adventure when I explained that I thought she had no need of a revolver. She was quite disappointed, then brightened considerably.
“I can take notes for you, dear. But I will need a costume for such things. I will call on the dressmaker when I leave and let her know what I shall need...” She had stopped mid-thought.
“Do you suppose my safari costume would do?”
I explained that making inquiries often required doing so discreetly so as not to draw attention.
“Yes, I quite see your point, dear. Something discreet and practical, yet fashionable.”
“Good heavens,” my sister commented when I shared the conversation with her over afternoon tea, after returning from the rental office for the City of London that had provided the coach for Thomas Ellsworth the night he was killed.
“What are you going to do?” Linnie wiped paint from her hand as she finished with the additions she wanted to make to the painting of her two children at play in the garden.
“Short of closing the office and taking yourself off on one of your adventures,” she added. “Although I would imagine Mr. Brodie might not approve.”
I had explained his new position as well.
“I should plan a supper in celebration,” she commented. “If you would be willing to loan Mrs. Ryan to me for the occasion. The woman is amazing with her talents for cooking. James is most fond of her berry cobblers.”
Linnie was married to my publisher, James Warren, after the difficulties of that first inquiry case where I had sought assistance from Brodie after she disappeared.
It was good to see her happy after the harrowing experience, if exhausted most of the time from the demands of a growing family.
“I convinced her there is a great deal of paperwork in an inquiry case, and she would have to spend long hours at the office.”
“And?” Linnie commented.
“She is presently off to the dressmaker’s for an appropriate costume for making inquiries.”
She snorted with laughter. “Oh, what I would give to see that.”
“I will make certain that you do. She has also informed me that she wants a revolver like the one I carry.”
“Oh, good heavens! London will not be safe.”
“I persuaded her that it takes some time to acquire a revolver, that one has to have permission from the police, and that it can take months to receive it.”
“In other words, you lied.”
“It seemed the safest option at the moment. In a few months Brodie and I will know if we will continue making private inquiries.” I then shared with her my idea about a lady’s inquiry agency with services provided by ladies only.
“I imagine how that went over with Mr. Brodie.”
Yet the idea is most intriguing. It was true that he would need some persuading in that regard.
I had called on her for another reason as well.
“You were acquainted with Sir Thomas Ellsworth. What can you tell me about him?”
“Good heavens, that was ages ago,” Linnie replied. “So very dreadful about his death. We were acquainted socially. He had asked to be allowed to call on me. We attended a holiday party. But nothing came of it, and then there was Charles...”
An unhappy episode. Her first husband, who was caught up in a conspiracy after his affair with another woman. Still, that was all in the past, and my sister was now very happily married.
She looked at me with curiosity. “Are you making inquiries into his death?”
I explained that Lady Ellsworth had requested it.
“She is quite displeased with the efforts of the MET investigation,” I explained. “I agreed that we would make our usual inquiries to learn if there was anything that might be useful in the police investigation.
“I never met Sir Thomas,” I added. “What do you remember about him? Your impression about the sort of person he was? The sort of company he kept? Was he overly flirtatious? Did he like to gamble at a private club? Anything you can remember or that he might have mentioned in passing?”
She was thoughtful.
“I do remember that he actually seemed quite shy, very sweet in his own way, not at all like his brother.”
“Sir Anthony.”
She nodded. “For all that they were twins, they were very different. Anthony Ellsworth’s reputation...he most definitely could be described as a rake. Reckless, prone to scandal. As I remember, Sir Robert was forever rescuing him from some mishap or another.
“When they were older, it usually included a woman, and not the sort his father or Lady Eugenia approved of. The family wealth and title, and all that.”
The entitled, ne’er-do-well older son who was eventually destined to inherit the title of Lord Croft from Lady Ellsworth’s side of the family.
“What about Thomas, obviously in the shadow of all that?”
“He was quite studious. They both attended Harrow. There was an incident where it was rumored that Anthony started a fire that very nearly burned the headmaster’s hall down.
Another situation it was rumored Sir Robert intervened in and made certain the damage was repaired and there was no referral for formal charges. ”