Page 34 of A Little Bit Dangerous
ChapterEight
Christian had visited the mortuary on three occasions. Once, when Aaron failed to come home after a bare-knuckle fight at the Dog and Gun. Once, when they found a man dead in the doorway after a bitterly cold night and Mrs Maloney feared a local surgeon might steal the body. Once, when he was five and he’d gone looking for his mother because he refused to believe she was dead.
Nothing had changed.
The room was cold and clinical; the body presented on a slab as if it were an artefact at the museum. A sheet protected the deceased woman’s modesty, though one could not help but note the slimy texture of her skin and imagine her floating face-down in the water.
The scene was hardly conducive to his current aim—to make Miss Lawton want him so badly she would kiss him again. Still, he just needed the lady to faint, and he’d have every reason to haul her into an embrace.
“Has anyone come forward to identify the woman?” Miss Lawton asked, quickly covering her mouth and nose with her lace handkerchief to ward off the foul smell.
“No.” Mr Paisley’s skin was so thin and grey, he looked to have one foot in the grave. “And no one’s reported her missing, though I believe she’s of Mediterranean descent and came to London seeking employment.”
“What makes you so sure?” Christian said.
He lifted a dull lock. “There’s a certain coarseness to her hair.”
Christian glanced at Miss Lawton, whose hair was as soft as silk, but did not suggest the coroner’s theory had flaws. “The curator said she spoke in riddles. Perhaps English is not her first language.”
Miss Lawton uncovered her mouth to comment. “We must assume she lives in the vicinity of the museum. We should have a constable knock on every door and enquire about a missing person.”
He doubted the magistrate would waste manpower on a woman of modest means. Most would presume it was a case offelo-de-se.
“I’d guess she worked as a scullery maid.” Paisley pulled back the sheet and pointed to the woman’s knees. “There may be a record of her at one of the servants’ registries.”
“How long was she in the water?”
“Days, I’d say.”
“Mr Daventry said drowning may not be the cause of death.” Miss Lawton avoided looking at the bloated corpse.
Paisley drew attention to the other marks on the body. “Some people treat their servants like dogs. From the state of her nails, the bruising and defensive wounds, I’d say her employer assaulted her on a regular basis. It’s a common occurrence. The blight of the lower classes.”
“And you will write that in your report?” Miss Lawton asked.
Paisley shifted uncomfortably. “It will probably be recorded as an accidental drowning, miss. These things are complicated. There’s not much we can do for the poor soul now.”
She made to object, but Christian interjected, “Thank you for your time. We’ll be in touch if we need any further information.”
“But I’m not finished,” she whispered.
“Yes, you are.” He cupped her elbow and escorted her out of the mortuary and onto the street. “We may need to ask more questions. If you challenge him, he’ll avoid speaking to us in future.”
Clearly frustrated, Miss Lawton tugged her arm free. “But if he records it as drowning, how can we prosecute the culprit?”
“Without witnesses to the crime, securing a conviction will be impossible. That’s why Daventry is inundated with work. Finding evidence elsewhere must be our main focus. We need a confession.”
Miss Lawton sighed. Water gathered in her eyes. “What if it’s my fault she’s dead? What if she knew about the smuggling operation and my notes helped my father identify her?”
Seeking any opportunity to touch her, Christian clasped Miss Lawton’s upper arm. “While you’re skilled with a pencil, I doubt you had any influence over what happened to her. As Paisley said, servants are abused on a regular basis. It’s nothing new. Besides, we don’t even know it’s the same woman.”
He noted her frown deepening, sensed her battling against his logical statement. He had a hard time believing it himself.
“I suppose you’re right.” She managed a weak smile before glancing over her shoulder. “Being outdoors has set my nerves on edge. Why do I get the sense we’re being followed? Tell me, am I losing my mind, Mr Chance?”
In a bid to reassure her, he fought against his own inner trepidation. Danger lurked in the shadows. Every muscle in his body was primed to attack. Yet the enemy refused to show themselves.
“Whatever happens during this investigation, I will protect you. You can count on me, madam. I’ll not leave you to work alone again.”
