Page 29 of Courier of Death
He’d never been there before.
“I am a detective inspector, Leo,” he grumbled, whisking off his hat. “I have resources. Now, tell me, how are you acquainted with my dead body?”
She peered at him, taken aback by the odd wording. He sighed. “You know what I mean.”
Closing the door, she gestured toward the sitting room and led the way. Jasper slowed upon entering and nodded to Dita. “Miss Brooks. Forgive me for intruding, but I have a few questions for Miss Spencer.”
“And they are related, I believe, to my question for you, Dita,” Leo said, retaking her seat.
Dita sat forward, placing her slippered feet on the carpet. “About this Niles Foster fellow?”
Jasper stepped around the sofa but remained standing, his hat clutched in his hand. “You know him?”
“No. Leo just spoke his name now.”
It was time for her to explain.
“I did not know him personally, but I did recognize his face when I saw him in the morgue.”
Dita gasped. “Do you mean to say he is dead?”
“Yes,” Leo replied. Then cautiously added, “Murdered.”
The stab wounds to his chest had been the cause of death, and the dumping of the body in the viscount’s pond, an attempt at a ruse.
“Where did you see Mr. Foster before today, Leo?” Jasper asked, returning to his line of inquiry. He never was easily put off a topic.
“Striker’s Wharf,” she answered, expecting the souring of his gaze. He disliked the club because it was operated by a criminal named Eddie Bloom. And he especially disliked that she and Dita went there often.
“Of course it would be there,” he grumbled. “How is it that you recall him?”
“Not the man who approached our table last time? The handsome one who asked you to dance?” Dita said, her alarm increasing.
Jasper peered between them. “You danced with my murder victim?”
Leo held up her hands. “Not him, Dita. This was the man we saw being tossed out of the back room.” Reluctantly, she explained to Jasper, “It’s where Mr. Bloom operates a casino.”
His chest inflated as he drew a deep breath. “Please tell me you do not visit that part of the club.”
“I’m not a fool, Inspector Reid. And what would I gamble with anyhow? My vast riches?”
He only deepened his glare. Swiftly, she translated the silence: There were more treasures to gamble with than just money. Especially for a woman.
“I do remember him,” Dita said, her melancholy seeming to clear. “This was just last week, wasn’t it? He crashed into a server, upending a tray of drinks.”
“John was with us at the time,” Leo added. “He laughed and called the man a fool for trying to cheat in Bloom’s casino.”
After finding the heron and fox token in John’s pocket and then hearing his brother speak of his new, expensive purchases, she’d presumed his vice had been gambling. Now, she wondered if John Lloyd and Niles Foster had one more thing in common besides having been bound and beaten just hours before their deaths, with matching gashes on their cheeks.
“Dita, did John ever gamble in the back room at Striker’s Wharf?” she inquired.
Leo had never seen him enter the casino, but she also had not always accompanied the couple to the club on the Lambeth wharves.
Her friend twisted the handkerchief between her fingers and cast her eyes down to her lap. “Yes.”
Jasper straightened. “So, PC Lloyd and Niles Foster both frequented Eddie Bloom’s casino. Were they acquainted?”
“I don’t know. John never mentioned his name. And really, he said he’d only gambled there a handful of times.” Dita tried to flatten the hankie, her fingers trembling. “I didn’t like his habit. We had cross words about it, but… He did win often, and you know how meager a constable’s wages are. John just wanted to put aside enough for when we…” Her voice cut off, and Leo reached out to cover her hand with her own.
