Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (33 page)

Stapleton’s face grew grimmer and grimmer.  “You
cannot pay him or the demands will never cease.  Allow me to investigate and
I’ll see the bastard thrown in prison.”

“Thank you, but while I would dearly love to see him
or her thrown into the hell hole we just left, I’m afraid that would only make
it more likely that the scoundrel would expose Melanie’s secrets.”

“You do realize that’s the likely outcome regardless,
do you not?” asked Stapleton.  At Hal’s grim nod, he continued.  “You said ‘he’
or ‘she.’  Do you think Madame Thurmond is behind this?”

“I can’t rule it out, especially since the
identification of Miss Sutton that night almost certainly came from the Madame. 
She could be inventing the existence of this master blackmailer just so I don’t
take out my wrath on her and her establishment.  But I think not.  She seemed
genuinely afraid of what this man could do to her.”

“Do you think the blackmail is connected to the
slavers?”

Hal frowned.  “I don’t see how it could be.  The
slavers don’t know who I am.”

“Everyone knows the Kellingtons, Hal.  And I find
the timing suspicious.  What better way to divert you from solving the mystery
of the disappearances than to throw a blackmail scheme at you.  In addition, if
the slavers did take Miss LaRue, they almost certainly know about your Miss
Sutton and her work.  Ruining a young woman socially would be nothing compared
to the crimes they’ve committed.  And it could be very lucrative.  Find the
blackmailer and I believe you’ll solve the disappearances.”

They were interrupted by bells clanging at the
prison.  Several guards came running out, looking up and down the street.

“What is it?” Stapleton asked one of them.

“A murder,” said the man.  “And not jus’ a regular
one.  This bloke was to be a state’s witness in an important case.”

Stapleton and Hal looked at each other, then ran
toward the prison. 

*                    *                    *

It was just as they’d feared.  They found Rodgers
face down in his cell in a pool of his own blood, his throat having been cut
from one ear to the other.

“Who else had access to him?” Stapleton asked a
guard who looked completely unaffected by the sight.

The guard shrugged.  “There’s a dozen coves in ‘ere,
plus those who do for them with the meals and such.  Coulda been any one of
‘em.  But you won’t get none of ‘em to talk.  The others would just slit their
throats, too.  None of ‘em like a rat.  Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Thank you for that helpful insight,” said Stapleton
dryly.

“My pleasure,” said the guard.  “Do ye know who’ll
get ‘is clothes?  They was in pretty good shape.  I just barely kep’ the others
from stealin’ ‘em, but it wouldn’t do to let them go to waste.” 

“How many guards had access to Rodgers?” asked Hal,
ignoring the man’s question.

“Wot do you mean by that?” replied the guard
belligerently.

Stapleton rose to his full height and stepped up to
the insolent man.  “Lord Henry asked whether anyone other than a prisoner had
access to him.  You and I both know it wouldn’t be unheard of for a guard to
beat a prisoner and perhaps even kill him.”

The guard backed down fractionally.  “Well,‘tweren’t
no guard.  Coulda been any one of a dozen coves wot been through here today. 
Coulda been that toff.”

“What toff?” asked Stapleton.

“He was in here after you left.  Didn’t see what he
was up to because I had to go knock some heads.  But coulda been him just the
same.”

“Was he American?” asked Hal.

“How am I supposed to know?  It’s not like we had us
a nice li’l coze now, was it?”

“I mighta ‘eard somethin’ about ‘im.”

They turned to see a virtual skeleton walking out of
the shadows of a nearby cell.  He looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in a year
or more.  His skin was sallow and sunken to his cheekbones.  He continued,
though it was a wonder he had the strength to speak.  “It was a lord wot come
through ‘ere.  I seen ‘him when I left for me meeting with the magistrate.  ‘Eard
one of the prisoners say  ‘is name was Charles Francis.  Carried a walking
stick I woulda killed for.  In me old life, of course.”

“What did the walking stick look like?” asked Hal
with a sense of dread.

“Gold knob on top wot looked like a snake.  Must
have a lot of blunt for somethin’ like that.”

Francis had that exact walking stick.  Hal wasn’t
sure which feeling was stronger:  the urge to be sick or an all-encompassing
rage to think his friend might be a murderer.  Charles Francis’s walking stick
was distinctive.  He wouldn’t have thought his friend would be capable of any
violent crime, let alone one that was this bloody, but all of the sudden, the
pieces fell into place.

Francis’s purse was always full, yet his family was
not known for its wealth.  He was getting the blunt from somewhere and white
slavery was definitely lucrative.  In addition, he was certainly familiar with
the prostitutes of London.  Although, Hal had to admit, if such knowledge was
truly damning, he might be a suspect himself.  It would be easy for Francis to
convince the girls to go away with him, allowing his associates to hold them
until the next ship was ready to take them away.  And if Stapleton’s theory
were true, Francis would also be in the perfect position to blackmail him about
Mel.  The initial wager, after all, had been Francis’s idea. 

He thought about the last several months of falling more
and more into Francis’s sphere of influence.  Had it all been a set-up leading
to this?

Hal groaned aloud.

“What is it?” asked Stapleton.

“Francis knows about Mel’s activities.  To get him
off the blasted wager, I told him about her reform work.”

“So he probably knows when her next ship is ready to
depart.”

Hal nodded.  “If he’s really involved – and I’m not
saying he is – he would be smart to time his next journey with the slavers to
coincide with the departure of Captain Clinch’s upcoming voyage to America.”

“When will that be?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

*                   *                    *

“I can’t believe you didn’t take me with you!”  Mel
was pacing the sitting room floor of Mitchell House.  “If you’d let me remain
with Rodgers at the prison he might not be dead.”

“Let you….let you remain at the prison!”  Hal was
beside himself with shock.  “I never would have taken you to the prison in the
first place.  I know this hasn’t occurred to you, but there are some places a
lady should never venture.  And surely Newgate prison is at the top of the
list!”

Mel marched up to him, with hands on hips, eyes
flashing.  “It’s not your job to tell me where I can and cannot go.”

“Well, it certainly will be!” said Hal emphatically.

That rather startling statement was met with confusion
by Mel.  Anne either coughed or smothered a laugh. 

Stapleton cleared his throat.  “Where is Parker?”

“He’s been gone most of the day,” said Anne.  “He
did not say when he would return.”

“That’s another thing,” said Hal, turning to
Stapleton and Anne.  “What the devil was Parker doing at Newgate?  Perhaps it
is he we should suspect and not Francis.”

“You cannot think him guilty in this matter,” said
Mel.  “After all, you and Inspector Stapleton were at Newgate, as well as your
friend Mr. Francis.  I daresay that if simply being at Newgate makes one a
suspect then you, my lord, are just as likely a one as Richard.  After all, you
live in London.  He is only visiting.”

Before Hal could overreact once again, Stapleton
stepped in.  “That’s a very interesting point, Miss Sutton.”

Mel blushed.  “I did not mean to accuse you of
wrongdoing, Inspector.”

“You only meant to accuse me of wrongdoing,” said
Hal.

“I only wanted to point out the fault in your logic,
my lord. So Inspector, please accept my apology.”

“What about apologizing to me?” asked Hal.

“Hal, feel free to resume your lovers’ quarrel when
I leave,” said Stapleton.  “But for now, let’s think about the very interesting
point Miss Sutton raised.  If there really are white slavers working in London,
the man we’re looking for might be someone who is in London only on occasion. 
He might either sail with the ship, or move from country to country to escape
detection.”

“Ha!  So it is Parker,” said Hal with a look of
triumph.  He seemed to regret his lack of tact almost immediately, “Of course,
Miss Sutton, I’m sure it must be troubling to learn your longtime friend is a
ruthless criminal.”

“Hal, that’s only one theory,” continued Stapleton. 
“The mastermind could just as well be a Londoner, someone who has familiarity
with London’s prostitutes.”

“So it is Lord Henry,” said Mel, with just the
slightest smirk.

Stapleton turned to Hal with a grin.  “Hold this one
close.  She’ll keep you on your toes.”  He turned to Anne.  “Mrs. Cartwright,
has Mr. Parker given you any indication that he might be involved in illegal
activity?”

Anne shook her head vehemently.  “Not at all,
Inspector.  I’ve known men who seemed innocent as angels, who had the blackest
of souls.  However, Mr. Parker has never been anything other than kind.  But I
can’t help wondering…”

“Wondering what?” Stapleton gently prodded.

“I knew a man once, long ago.  He told me a man
could buy just about anything he wanted on the docks.  You just needed to know
where to look.  He said he could make a person disappear.”  Anne
absent-mindedly touched the scars on her face.  “He could make anything
disappear with enough coin, even a ship.”

“It sounds like this man could change a registry,”
said Stapleton.  “Do you know where I can find him?”

“No,” said Anne quietly.  She seemed to have gone
pale from simply speaking about him.  “But I may have something for you.”  She
unlocked the bottom drawer in the desk, then pulled out a box filled with
papers.  “At one point, I thought he might kill me.  I kept this information in
case anyone would look into my death.”  She handed the papers to Inspector
Stapleton, as if they burned her.

Stapleton looked at her with seasoned eyes.  “I
shall follow up to see if there are any leads.”   

“Mrs. Cartwright,” said Hal, “I cannot think it is wise
for you and the other ladies to remain under the same roof as Mr. Parker.  Yet,
I’m afraid of alerting him to our suspicions before we have any proof of his wrongdoing. 
The three of you can stay at Lynwood House.”

“My lord, that is impossible,” said Anne.  “The
likes of us cannot stay at his grace’s house in any capacity, although I am
touched by your offer.  No, Lydia, Angela and I will remain here.  I cannot
imagine Mr. Parker is a threat to any of us.”  As Hal began to object, she
continued.  “And if he is, by chance, the monster you say he is, we cannot
afford to scare him off by removing the three of us from Mitchell House.  I
thank you for your concern, but this is not the first time I’ve faced danger. 
Nor, do I expect, will it be the last.”

Hal looked like he wanted to argue, but he nodded. 
“If you change your mind, you need only send word.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
wish to find Arthur and Vanessa and let them know what has occurred.  Miss
Sutton, may I drop you at your uncle’s house?”  He had quite a bit to discuss
with Melanie, though she would likely not welcome a proposal at this time.  If
at all.

She raised her chin to the familiar stubborn angle. 
“I have business to conduct here, sir.  Good day.”

Hal had no choice but to leave.

But he didn’t like it one damned bit. 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Mel arrived home to find a most unexpected and
unwanted guest.  Mrs. Seton was in the drawing room taking tea with the Earl
and Countess of Heffner.  Aunt Evelyn’s look was one of extreme vexation. 
Mel’s uncle looked like he was barely controlling his anger.  He rose when she
entered.  Aunt Evelyn rushed over to give her a kiss.

“Don’t say a word, dear,” Mel’s aunt whispered into
her ear.  “We are trying to be rid of the woman.”

Aunt Evelyn ushered her to the settee, where Mel
made a slight curtsey to Mrs. Seton.  For her part, the older woman looked like
she’d like nothing more than to give her the cut direct.  But at the last
moment she must have remembered in whose house she was taking tea.  She gave
Mel a curt nod.  “Miss Sutton,” she bit out.

Mel sat on the edge of the settee and accepted the
cup her aunt handed her.  Why was Mrs. Seton there?  And how quickly could she
be persuaded to leave? 

“As I was saying,” said Mrs. Seton, as she helped
herself to another biscuit.  “It pains me to be the bearer of bad news, but
your niece has engaged in scandalous activities.  She’s visited the docks,
conversed with women of ill repute and been seen in the company of disreputable
men, even if one of them is the brother of a duke.”