Chapter 11 #3
“I did not actually think so,” I said, making myself not glance at Daniel. “But I wanted to be certain.”
“I vow to you.” Mr. Fielding drew a breath, calming himself. “But it is a natural assumption, I suppose. I recall the night he murdered Carter, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”
“Nor will I,” Daniel said grimly.
“He probably leaves me be because he doesn’t consider me a threat,” Mr. Fielding went on. “Until I began poking around, that is.”
“Which is why we should leave this part of the metropolis as soon as we are able,” I said.
“Indeed.” Mr. Fielding began striding westward at a brisk pace, and Daniel and I followed.
We passed a church and an attached school bearing the plaque St. Simon Zelotes. I wondered if Mrs. Kerr’s children attended the school or if she brought them to the church, in spite of her wishes to have nothing to do with the parishes.
I noted it in my head as we swiftly marched after Mr. Fielding. He managed to find a hansom at the next corner and bundled us into it, the horse trotting us out of Bethnal Green and away from Mr. Naismith’s watchful eye.
* * *
A lively debate ensued in the hansom about what to do next.
As much as Daniel declared he wished to cease looking into the matter, I knew he did not mean it. He was downhearted, but I saw interest gleam in his eyes about the problem for its own sake. Such restless curiosity was why he made a good detective.
“Somerset House would have a record of every Patterson born or deceased in the country,” Mr. Fielding said. “You could bury yourself in their records for a while. They might turn up something.”
Daniel grimaced. “I would be the worst person to sit and pore over dusty records. I don’t have the patience. However, I have a friend who might enjoy it.”
“Mr. Thanos, you mean,” I said, my own enthusiasm rising. “He knows how to sift through minutiae. He’d uncover every detail.”
Daniel deflated a bit. “I’m not certain I should pull him away from his duties at the Polytechnic for a task that might turn out to be trivial.”
“Good heavens, he’d be happy to help,” I said. “And discovering your origins is not trivial.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Fielding said. “You could put your connections to Scotland Yard to good use, brother, and look up Mrs. Kerr. I can’t believe she’d have vagabond children running into and out of her house without an incident or two.
The police will have reports. More dusty archives for you, I’m afraid. ”
“Or a record of what happened to the children,” I put in. “Were they adopted? Left in another parish?”
“If I ever lived in Mrs. Kerr’s house, I ended up wandering the streets of Southwark, regardless,” Daniel said.
“That does not point to a happy ending for any of her children. Banks joined the army, probably knowing there was not much else he could do.” His tone took on a thoughtful note.
“I wonder if any of the others joined the army or navy, and if they could tell me anything about Mrs. Kerr. If they survived, that is. The military services can be brutal.”
“I am glad neither of you is giving up,” I said. “As I stated, it would be helpful to discover who murdered Mr. Banks, and why, beyond justice for his own sake. It might have been a robber Mr. Grimes scared off, but might not.”
“Kat.” Daniel regarded me with exaggerated patience. “I know you will not listen if I ask you to not look into the murder, but will you at least promise me you will take care?”
“Of course.” I blinked at him. “When do I not?”
Mr. Fielding and Daniel looked at each other around me, and their expressions made me frown at both of them in sudden irritation.
* * *
Mr. Davis still wasn’t speaking to me when I returned home.
I’d spent the remainder of the afternoon with Grace. The hansom had dropped me at Joanna’s, with Daniel and Mr. Fielding continuing who knew where on their own.
In spite of my annoyed declaration to Daniel that I’d do as I pleased, what I truly wished was to treasure every moment I could with Grace. Therefore, I did not fuss when the cabbie halted in Cheapside. I departed from them tranquilly, vowing inwardly to begin investigating as soon as I was able.
Now, in the kitchen, Tess peered curiously at Mr. Davis when he again thunked down the bottles of wine for today’s sauces and walked frostily away.
“Does he have the grippe, do you think?” Tess asked. “He’s been closed as a clam this past week.” She shivered. “I hope not. It’s catching, innit?”
“He is unhappy with me, but we will weather it,” I said as I tied on my apron.
Tess shook her head but returned to her chopping. “Well, I hope you make it up, because he’s that unpleasant when he’s angry.”
I agreed. I’d tried to explain my feelings about Daniel to Mr. Davis, but I recognized a stubborn streak when I saw one.
Elsie sailed in from the scullery as Tess and I began to prepare supper. “Note came for you, Mrs. H. While you was out.”
“Thank you, Elsie.” I took it from her and opened it, at once recognizing Hannah’s scrawl.
It’s all fixed, she wrote. You can start on Monday.