Page 92 of Ticket Out

Halberd’s secretary was gone, but Halberd’s office door was open and James could hear movement. He called a hello as a warning and then knocked on the door frame.

“Archer.” Halberd looked up from his paperwork. “What is it?”

His face must have been less neutral than he thought. “Five bodies found in John Crane’s home, sir. Drummley of Clubs and Vice and I went in on the grounds of a welfare check, found the bodies.”

“Who?” Halberd rose from his chair, his face shocked.

“We think Crane, his wife, and two members of his gang. All stabbed.” Although Mrs. Crane had been butchered, rather than stabbed. “And, the fifth . . .”

Halberd must have heard something in his voice, because he went still.

“Drummley thinks it’s one of his own, sir. A copper called Kershaw. Might have been in Crane’s pocket.”

“Hell.” Halberd blew out a breath. “And you think this is your suspect? Your Mr. Big?”

It occurred to him that Gabriella’s name of Mr. Knife was definitely a better one, after what he’d seen today. He nodded. “The pathologist is on the scene, and I’ve come back to see what my DC might have dug up for me today while I was out. Just thought I’d let you know what’s happening, sir.”

“And Clubs and Vice? This is going to come down on them, especially with one of their own dead. But they’ll know it.”

“They’ve turned it over to me, but I’ve told Drummley if he wants to look over my shoulder, I’m fine with it. Especially if I find anything that might help them.”

Halberd gave a grunt. “Good. I’ll let Drummley’s guv’nor know.”

James thought that was a conversation he was glad he wouldn’t have to have, gave a nod, and turned to leave.

“Archer, this man killed five at Crane’s, and another two outside that gallery.”

James stopped, gave a nod. “And tried to kill Miss Farnsworth and Mrs. Everett.”

“But we’ve never heard of him before? He’s never popped up on our radar? He just appears one day, killing left and right, and no one even has his name?”

“I know it doesn’t sound feasible.” James couldn’t believe it himself. “Unless those killings in the Crane house snapped something in him. Gave him a taste for it.”

Halberd sat back in his chair. “I’ll send this up the chain. The Commissioner will want to know of something this big. Whetford will no doubt want in, as well.”

James knew it. “He’s out to lunch, sir. I’ll find him, let him know.”

“I’ll do it,” Halberd said.

James thanked him and left, wondering why Halberd was being so helpful.

He walked up the stairs to his own office, and found Hartridge pacing outside his door.

“Did you hear?” he asked.

“Yes.” Hartridge spun at the sound of his voice. “What will we do?”

“We can’t do much more at the scene until the pathologist does his thing, and given the state of the bodies—”

“Bodies?” Hartridge’s eyes went wide. “What bodies?”

James frowned. “The bodies we found at John Crane’s house—”

“I’m talking about Miss Farnsworth,” Hartridge said, voice almost hoarse.

“What about her?” James made his lips move.

“She was abducted, sir. Right in front of the PC who was watching her house. Dragged into a car with a knife to her throat.”

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