Chapter 1 #3
I would find something even if I had to return to the rail station and remain there until morning.
“I know a woman who has a flat on Albany Street. She takes in boarders from time to time, and it’s in a safe part of the city. I could have her provide a room for ye.”
“Why would you do that?” I replied. “You know nothing about me, and I was brought here as a possible suspect.” I had not asked for his assistance.
“As ye have pointed out, Miss Brown was obviously dead for some time. If ye were the person responsible, it made no sense for ye to return to the scene of the crime. Further, if ye were capable of such a crime, ye would most likely have used the knife we found in yer bag.”
He removed the knife that Munro had given me when I first travelled across London on my own, insisting that I have it for protection. Lessons had followed, including those at the German Gymnasium.
It was the sort of knife with the blade that folded back on itself, and was then hidden in the handle. I thought it verra remarkable and carried it with me as Munro had cautioned somewhat strongly, as he was wont to do.
“As for my reason for suggesting the accommodation for the night, Mrs. Cheney is a good person I can personally recommend.”
“Do you always make such arrangements to those brought here?”
There was a faint smile below the curve of his moustache. “Not usually. She’s verra particular. But considerin’ the situation, she would disapprove if I did not make the offer to assist ye. And there is the letter of introduction to Sir McQuarrie.”
“Which you confiscated from my bag,” I reminded him.
“Aye, as a matter of procedure.” That gaze softened slightly. “Ye are a bold one, Miss Montgomery.”
“I see no reason to be meek or shy, Inspector. It has never proven well for a woman.”
“Ye have much experience in that, do ye?” he replied with some amusement.
“The woman who has been my guardian is an excellent example.”
He nodded. “Ye and Mrs. Cheney will get along well. I will make a telephone call to let her know that we will be arriving.”
“You assume that I have accepted,” I commented.
“Not only bold, but ye seem to be of common sense as well.”
There was something in his manner that suggested that he might have said more, but did not, as he left to make the telephone call to Mrs. Cheney.
He returned and nodded. “It is done,” he informed me. “If ye will gather yer things, Miss Montgomery, we will be on our way.”
I did not argue with Inspector Landry. There was nothing I could do tonight about what had happened. That was for tomorrow. I picked up my portmanteau and followed him from the police station.
Inspector Landry held the driver over as he escorted me up the steps to Number 39 Albany Street when we arrived. Then nodded a greeting to an older man, the building manager.
“Inspector,” the man replied. “Let me know if there is anything ye need.” He then returned to his own apartment as Inspector Landry accompanied me upstairs to apartment “A” on the second floor.
Elizabeth Cheney was not what I expected of someone forced to let out a room in order to survive, nor was she put off by the late hour as she greeted us warmly.
“Miss Montgomery,” she held my hand between both of hers perhaps a bit longer than necessary. They were warm as they wrapped around my cold one. Her dark gaze was warm as well.
“Och, Will,” she exclaimed, yet a soft smile remained as her hands tightened around mine. “The poor thing is exhausted.” She turned to me.
“You may call me Elizabeth.” She glanced past me with an odd expression and shook her head.
“The room is ready,” she continued. “There will be time for us to become acquainted later.”
With that she led me into a room off the small parlour.
“My own room is just across, if ye need anythin’. There is a pitcher of water on the table beside the bed, and a clean towel by the basin. The place is not so old,” she leaned in as if sharing something important.
“There is a water closet between the two rooms. It was a bit more for me rent, but I wasn’t about to share with someone who had four children and a cranky husband who takes his time with such things.
“Cheeky, I know. But there you have it, a little bit about meself.” She turned on the electric beside the door.
“If ye be needing anything before morning, there are biscuits in the kitchen that I laid out for ye.”
When I would have thanked her for providing the room, she shook her head.
“There will be time enough in the mornin’. There is an extra blanket in the chest if ye need it.” She reached out as she turned to leave and gently touched my cheek. Another smile, thoughtful this time before leaving.
“Oidhche mhath,” she said in the Gaelic, then paused. I sensed she would have said more, but she merely smiled again, then left and closed the door behind her.
I do not remember undressing, the simple act more by habit. I then turned off the electric and crawled into the bed.
As I drifted off to sleep, I heard the brief exchange of conversation, then silence from the parlour beyond. I curled into a tight ball as I held myself, and the tears for Dory finally came.