Page 41 of Method of Revenge
He caught the edge of the door with his hand. “I will hail a cab, Leo.” The terse command was successful in dragging her eyes to his at last. In them, she saw resolve. And a touch of sympathy. “Wait here.”
With that, he went outside and closed the door behind him.
She glanced toward Flora and Claude, who were saying their goodbyes to Mrs. Zhao. As sorry as she was that the evening had concluded on such an unsettling note, Leo was at least grateful for one thing: her aunt’s strange comment about the letters from Andromeda Spencer.The bloody, bloody business. What business could she have meant? Leo would ask Claude once they were alone. But there was also another way to find out.
If Flora had received letters from her mother, they could be somewhere at their home on Duke Street. If they were, Leo would find them.
Chapter Thirteen
“Five days, Reid. Five goddamned days, and you’ve not brought a single suspect into custody!” Chief Coughlan ran his palm across his forehead. “I told you this case needed to be handled swiftly. This is not swiftly!”
Jasper stood before the chief’s desk, hands clasped behind his back and waited for Coughlan to conclude—or continue—his ticking off. As the investigation had lengthened, and the chief’s temper had grown shorter, Jasper had come to expect the chief’s wrath during his daily briefings.
Stories about Gabriela Carter’s murder had been making it into every newspaper in London for days, and with no suspects named, no arrests made, and no more facts available to the ravenous reporters lingering outside the Yard, some of the more questionable papers had resorted to printing pure fiction and theory. Most were calling it a retaliation killing. A few named Eddie Bloom, as it had all taken place inside his club. And as usual, the papers were accusing the Metropolitan Police of inept investigating and more corruption.
“Do you know what this looks like, Reid?” Coughlan went on. “It looks like we’re turning a blind eye. Like we might not want to capture the killer.”
Jasper could listen to no more.
“Sir, I’m following promising leads. And the new connection to Regina Morris’s murder could provide more?—”
“You are not investigating that woman’s murder any longer,” the chief cut in. His voice cracked loud enough to reach through the walls and the closed door. No doubt, the whole detective department was listening. “I want you focused on the Carter murder and nothing else.”
Jasper clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to shout that it was shortsighted to ignore the link to Regina Morris. Should he do that, Coughlan’s brittle patience would shatter entirely.
“You need to find the waiter who delivered that drink to Gabriela Carter, and you need to arrest him,” Coughlan ordered.
The chief, though easily irritated and often vexed, had a firm understanding of the many elements of this case. He also knew the hellfire that would rain down upon him and his department if they failed to pin the crime on someone. What Jasper would not do, however, was select someone to blame and arrest him just to get the public and the Home Office off their backs. Others at the C.I.D might, but not him.
“I believe Andrew Carter is searching for that waiter too, Chief, and plans to deliver his own justice.”
Coughlan scoffed. “That is unacceptable. You cannot allow him to do that.”
“How do you propose I prevent him, sir?” The sarcastic retort was out of his mouth and touching off a firestorm before he could stop himself. The chief’s skin began to boil toward pink, then red.
“By finding the murderer first, of course! Or is that too much of a challenge for you?” He came around his desk, his tall, thick-chested body suddenly seeming several inches wider. “You’ve landed at the C.I.D faster than others, Reid, and don’t think I don’t know why or how. Reid is an influential name around here. But by God, you will prove you deserved that promotion, or you will find yourself back where many people say you belong.”
Jasper flexed his fists, his blood roiling. Never had he felt the urge to strike someone so fiercely. He’d assumed there were some in the department who didn’t believe merit alone had earned him the promotion to detective inspector. And now, the chief had confirmed it.
He released his fingers from their clenched fists. “Yes, sir,” he gritted out, then left the office before he could be dismissed, and before he could do or say something more to enrage the chief.
Jasper kept the door to his office in his line of sight, ignoring the glimpses and smirks the others in the department were certainly giving him as he stormed by. Most detectives would dodge high-profile cases for this very reason. If all went well, the detective would shine, but if it didn’t, he would become an object of pity.
Roy Lewis rose from his desk and followed him.
“Tell me what you learned from Miss Putnam,” Jasper barked as the detective sergeant closed the office door quietly. Lewis tucked his chin, not reacting to his temper.
“She was at the coffeehouse, like the landlady said. Regina kept to herself mostly, but she had been seeing someone recently.”
“How recently?”
“December or thereabouts. But here’s where it gets interesting—Regina admitted to her roommate that it was a married man. After Carter cut her loose, the only place she ever went to anymore was work at the factory, so Miss Putnam assumed she met the new bloke there.”
Jasper had started to consider whether Lawrence Wilkes had, in fact, taken up Regina Morris’s offer to commiserate over their mutual losses. Seeking comfort in each other’s arms, he could have gotten her with child. But he wasn’t married, and he would’ve had no motive to then get rid of her.
However, David Henderson was married, and the secretary Leo spoke to, Miss Geary, had suspected something romantic between him and Regina.
“Did she give names?” Jasper asked, but Lewis shook his head.
