Chapter 9 #2
“He already paid me, and I ain’t one to take advantage. It happened just this evenin’. I had one of the other girls put in a call where he said I could reach him. That’s when Brodie...Mr. Brodie said I was to come here. For sure, he wasn’t expectin’ you to be here.”
The crimson gown she wore was soaked through as well and revealed far more than it concealed.
“You sure do have a fancy way of speaking, and you smell real nice as well. He done right well for himself.”
“When did you send round the message?” I inquired.
“Musta been right about the time the regulars start comin’ round. Usually after they go home to their wives, have a bit of a chat, then stop in for a few hours. That sort of thing. It was after that I had the woman I work for make the call to the place he told me.”
And I could certainly have returned to the townhouse at Cadogan Square and missed all of this.
“He told me where I could find a key to let meself in, but then I saw the light up here from the street. Do you have somethin’ warm while I wait? Coffee or tea?”
I poured her a dram of Old Lodge and handed it to her.
“Oh, this warms one right up,” she commented enthusiastically, and took another healthy drink.
As strange as the situation was for that time of night, I was not about to turn the woman out. Still, I was extremely curious about the reason Brodie had asked her to meet him here, and obviously not where she usually ‘worked.’
“He’s made changes here,” she said then, as she looked about the office. “It looks right fine, professional like.” It was then she spotted the typewriter on my desk. She crossed the office and tapped several of the keys.
“Will you look at that! It writes for you. I heard that about you. You write books. He’s right proud of you.”
He had obviously met with her before.
“I also assist him with his inquiry cases,” I added, which had taken me into some unusual places, including a men’s club and a whorehouse.
“He told me that too, and I heard about it from one of the other girls,” she said, looking up from the typewriter.
“Yer not like the others. Ladies, that is, full of themselves and won’t give a girl so much as a by-yer-leave when they sees them on the street.
I thought you were just like ’em, although I couldn’t understand his takin’ up with one.
But I sees that yer different.” She glanced down at the revolver on Brodie’s desk.
“Have you ever used it?” she inquired with a smile that indicated she highly doubted it.
I handed her a towel before she could ruin the carpet.
“I have.”
I did not elaborate with the details, that the person in question was quite dead afterward. It was not something to boast about.
Brodie had explained one’s feelings afterward, at taking another life. It was not forgotten or easily dismissed. It had been a matter of preventing that person from escaping and committing another murder.
Betty laughed a bit nervously, as if she thought I might be teasing her, then became quite serious when she realized I was not.
“Gor! I never knew someone wot shot a person. Except for Brodie, of course, when he was with the MET.”
It did seem that he had shared a considerable number of things with her.
It was then, well into her second dram of whisky, that he arrived, trying the door, then discovering it was not locked.
Similarly soggy, rain dripping from his long coat, Brodie burst into the office like the storm itself.
“Good evening, dear,” I greeted him, then handed him a towel. Alex Sinclair had accompanied him.
There was surprise, then something very near amusement in the tired expression on his face.
“I did not expect to find ye here.”
That was quite obvious. Still, I was not the sort to pout or make a scene over what might have seemed a questionable situation, particularly with Alex present as well, as I reached to help him with his coat.
Alex and I exchanged greetings.
I might have laughed at the look Brodie gave me. If I was not sympathetic to the somewhat haggard look on his face, the fact that I did trust him when it came to ‘other women,’ that Alex had arrived with him, and that I was so very glad to see him.
Yet, I was not above a simple remark, and he would have been suspicious had I not made one.
“I was just explaining the use of the revolver to Betty.”
Betty was one of the sources Brodie had contacted in the matter he was following for the CID I learned as I prepared fresh coffee—one of the few things I had learned. Brodie was far better at it.
Still, on a cold wet night, it was quite welcome. Particularly with a dram of whisky.
“He come in tonight, not his first time,” she began to tell what she had learned. As I knew, brothels were often a source of information, casual conversation, a word that might mean something with enough drink and in the act of...
“What else?” Brodie asked as Alex wrote down the information.
“Said the captain was suppose to meet a man, a passenger he was to take on the next week.”
“Did he mention a name of that passenger?”
She shook her head. “Only that the captain was suppose to meet the man the night of the 18th and then make the crossing. He said the captain boasted that it was worth a good amount of money, but the man got himself kilt and this one planned to finish what was started.”
“Do you know the name of the man your friend entertained?”
“Called himself John.” She laughed a humorless sound. “The one I had was called John, along with a half-dozen others.”
I had learned that a good many men often referred to themselves as ‘John.’ It seemed to be a common name used in the brothels, no matter the class of clientele they served.
“He had an accent,” she added. “Macy fancies herself to be educated.” She made a face. “She can read some and write her own name, but she did say that he might be French.”
“Wot about the boat?”
“Said it was one of them steamboats like wot cross the channel regular over at St. Katherine’s dock.”
Brodie nodded.
“Does that mean anything to you?” I inquired.
“Perhaps, yet it could be anyone, but it gives us somethin’ more to make known with the others I have lookin’ into the matter.
“Is there anythin’ else yer friend mentioned about the man?” he asked Betty.
“Said he would be back before he left,” she replied. “Macy told him all he had to do was ask for her. He was spreading around a good amount of coin, and for that she would make herself available.”
Brodie nodded. “Might he still be there?”
She shook her head. “He left earlier, said he had to meet a man. I came here as soon as I could finish...you know wot I mean.”
“Aye,” Brodie replied.
“Is it worth somethin’?” she then asked.
Brodie reached into his vest pocket and retrieved a half crown.
“Well worth it, along with anything else ye can learn.”
“I do miss...” she started to say, then decided against it with a look at myself. “You know what I mean. I was always glad to see ye. Ye weren’t like others, usin’ a girl, then slappin’ her around.”
There was another look in my direction. Perhaps to make certain I didn’t reach for the revolver.
“Wot I mean is, ye were always a gentleman even though ye were with the police and then here. Ye always made me feel as if I was important.”
“Of course, Betty. If there is nothin’ more tonight, ye need to get back before yer missed.”