Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

  Schnell was stunned by his history. “I don’t think Jane would fall for no gypsy.”

  “From what I’ve seen, all women fall for Jacko. He happens to be watching your shop from the other side of the street if you want to step out and ensure we’re talking about the same man.”

  Schnell stormed into the apothecary and spotted the guy across the street. “That your guy?” he demanded.

  Jane blushed and nodded.

  “Well, ask him to walk you home so you can get your hair. Be back here within a half-hour or I’ll dock you a half day’s pay.”

  She rushed from the shop and Jacko rushed to her.

  Schnell watched the two lovers leave. There was no way he could compete with that fellow, even if the sorry bastard did treat Jane like shit. “Find out the particulars about his wife.”

  “Like what?”

  God, Conrad had the brains of a rotted melon. “Like who her friends are in society. That’s what I need.”

  Schnell smiled as Conrad hurried off to do his bidding. Yes, he could get rid of Jacko easily enough. All it would take is one letter from a friend of his wealthy wife alerting her to Jacko’s attention to Jane. Then the gypsy’s leash would be yanked tight and he’d be out of Jane’s life forever.

  ***

  Xavier had to change his disguise in the carriage. Conrad, whom they were following, had left the docks and now headed to the finest part of town, where a dirty bum would be noticed at once.

  He selected a jacket suitable for a lower level policeman and watched from his carriage as Conrad entered a large grey stone mansion with white marble trim and steps.

  Dressed in his new disguise Xavier kept his eye upon the mansion. He worried Conrad might recognize Davy as he left. Most people didn’t noticed drivers, but a policeman might. Although to be honest, Xavier had this fellow pegged as a lazy bizzy and a poor criminal. Yet, if Vic was right about him killing Maggie, then Conrad was far more adept than he appeared.

  When the man left the mansion a half-hour later, his eyes flickered left to right, then he tucked his head down and hurried to his carriage. Without doubt, the man was more aware than he pretended.

  “You want me to follow?” Davy asked once Conrad’s carriage pulled away.

  If Conrad had taken note of Davy, he would know he was being followed if they were at his next stop.

  “No, I’ll fish here.” Xavier hurried up to the front steps of the house Conrad had just left.

  The butler opened the door, took in Xavier’s clothes and slammed the door.

  Xavier knocked again.

  Before the butler could lecture him for not using the servant’s door, Xavier spoke the moment he opened it. “I’m with Scotland Yard, working with Inspector Conrad.”

  “He’s already left,” the butler snapped and attempted to close the door. Xavier pushed his way in. “I know that; I just left him. I need to speak to whomever he spoke to.”

  “Why?” the butler, a thin man in his fifties, demanded.

  “I will explain that to the person he spoke to.”

  The butler glared at him, but he was a lightweight compared to Gregory. After a two-minute standoff, the butler huffed, straightened his jacket and went to the parlor. A moment later, he stepped out. “Madam will see you. Please be brief.”

  Xavier entered the clashing purple and yellow parlor. A thin, well-kept woman in her fifties sat in a chair by the fire, sipping her tea. Her eyebrows rose upon sight of him.

  “If you have more questions about Alice Bienora, I cannot help you. I told the other fellow all I know.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Inspector Conrad is my boss. Would it be too much trouble if I asked you to repeat exactly what you told him?”

  “This is outrageous!” She grabbed the bell and rang it.

  “I’m sorry, but if I don’t return with his notes, he’ll have me fired. He’s not a nice man. He will do it.”

  The old woman studied Xavier’s best hangdog stance. When the butler arrived, she asked him to bring a cup of tea for the gentleman. She then smiled at Xavier.

  “Please sit down. I gather he lost his notes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But blamed you. He seemed the type. He had the impertinence to suggest I was withholding information.”

  “You need only tell me what you told him.”

  Xavier pulled out a notepad and pencil.

  She sighed. “Is the man also short of memory?”

  “He is. Can’t remember a thing if it’s not written down.”

  “I can’t believe Scotland Yard has fallen to such low standards. My husband will hear of this.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My captain’s name is Robert Conrad.”

  The old woman chuckled. “If I were to get him fired, I imagine it would make your life much better.”

  Xavier faintly smiled. “I would feel his absence daily.”

  The butler entered and slapped a cup of coffee down before Xavier. While he preferred coffee to tea, it was odd a butler would ignore his mistress’ request for tea. The man also failed to offer cream or sugar. Once the amazingly bad butler left the room, the old woman offered him both.

  “No ma’am, black is how I like it.”

  “Still, it was rude of Johnson not to ask. I don’t know what’s happening to manners. It seems the lesser people have all but forgotten them.”

  Xavier thought her observation damnably rude to state in front of the ‘lesser person’ he appeared to be, but he remained quiet as he took a sip of the foulest coffee he’d ever encountered. It tasted like chimney soot.

  He spit the small amount of liquid in his mouth back into his cup and set it down.

  “Perhaps we can begin?” he asked.

  She sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a long while and then rattled off their conversation in what appeared to be a verbatim recollection. She was talking much too fast for him to take it down word for word, but he was most interested in what she relayed.

  Conrad wanted the names of Alice’s friends in London.

  “I told him Alice hasn’t stepped foot into London since the unfortunate incident a year ago. As far as I know, she has no friends. How could she? First, her father turned out to be a murderer and then she married some foreigner whom no one knows. Nevertheless, he kept insisting there must be someone who used to be her friend. So I gave him Margaret’s name so he’d go away.”

  Finally, something to write down. “Margaret…”

  “Thurman.”

  “Minister Thurman’s wife?” Xavier clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “And she is friends with Alice?” Xavier found it hard to believe. Thurman firmly believed women should be kept keenly under a man’s heel. Not only was he adamantly against the New Woman’s movement, but spoke in a recent court case in support of a man’s right to do whatever he like, including rape and imprison the wife if she should refuse conjugal rights. Any wife of Thurman’s would make an unlikely friend of a woman who insisted upon managing her own estate.

  “Heaven’s no! Margaret wouldn’t dare befriend such a woman! I just gave her name to make him leave. Margaret would never receive a male visitor, so the horrid man will get nothing more.”

  Xavier smiled at the woman’s trick. “And that is all you told him.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will take my leave. Thank you for your indulgence.” Xavier stood, and felt a wave a nausea wash over him. Taking care not to stumble, he headed to the door.

  “Oh, you are most welcome. It’s not every day I get visited by Sherlock Holmes.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to the woman. “Excuse me?”

  Her smile dared him to challenge her. So he did. “Sherlock Holmes is a fictitious character of Conan Doyle’s.”

  The woman chuckled. “I am aware who you are, Xavier Thorn.”

  He stared at her. If he had met this woman before, she must have been in a very good disguise.

  He returned to the chair
and sat down, so he would not wobble with whatever illness had just decided to plague him. “You have me at a disadvantage, madam.”

  The fact seemed to please her a great deal.

  She tapped her nose. “I can recognize your father’s nose. Otherwise, I would have believed you were a poorly dressed policeman and sent you packing…or perhaps not. You played a most sympathetic character.”

  “You knew my father,” Xavier clarified, struggling to make his brain function. While he had inherited what Vic called ‘his giant hawk nose’ from his father, never once had someone seen through one of his disguises because of it.

  “Yes. Your father and I were very close.”

  “Meaning?”

  She smiled. “We held a deep love for one another.”

  Xavier stared at her in horror. “And where was my mother during this holding?”

  The woman waved at him and laughed as if the question was delightfully amusing.

  He rose, finding this woman irritating in so many ways. It would serve her right if he were to throw up on her ugly purple carpet, but he’d prefer to leave in dignity. “Your conversation with Conrad, was that accurate?”

  “To the word. I hope the man is not truly with Scotland Yard.”

  “No, but he is a policeman who needs to be removed from service.”

  “I daresay he does.” She then smiled. “I will see if I can arrange that for you.”

  “No need. I am capable of handling this matter.” He had to focus on not weaving, or he’d undercut his ability to stand.

  She rolled her eyes. “You always did want to do everything by yourself. Your father was so proud of your independence. ‘Mark my word, Angel, my boy’s going to be someone of great importance,’ he’d say.”

  Her words chilled him. He’d heard his father say the same damn thing to his mother, including using the pet name ‘Angel’.

  “And your name, Madame?”

  “Catherine Meridan. How cheeky to come in here without even knowing to whom you wished to speak. How on earth did you get past my butler?”

  “At least the lesser person believed in my disguise,” he snapped.

  “Oh, Xavier. Don’t be angry. It is not often an old woman can have such fun. I realize you might feel my amusement is at your expense, but I hold no mal-intent that your father chose to stay with your mother. I went on to marry Julius and have had a very fine life.”

  She rose and approached him, frowning at his shabby suit then smiled at him with such affection. “Julius and I never had children, so you were the last child I ever hugged.”

  Without warning Catherine wrapped her arm around Xavier and hugged him.

  Xavier stiffened in shock and stared down at the dark haired, thin woman attached to him. His arms lifted so neither touched her. God above! He hoped to hell he was at home with influenza, having a nightmare.

  Not only did a total stranger see through his disguise, but this woman claimed to have been some great love of his father’s, and had some odd, unnatural affection for Sherlock Holmes.

  He would like to think her simply mad, but her quote of his father gave her words credence. “I need to return to my case now,” he stated, feeling weaker than ever.

  Reluctantly, she released him and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “Of course. If you wish my help about Conrad, just send me a message.”

  “I don’t,” he assured her and regretted his words at once when he saw pain flicker across her face. “But if my assumption proves no better than my disguise today, I will ask for your assistance.”

  She rewarded him with a bright smile and escorted him all the way to the door. Her butler failed to hide his horror at the sight of his mistress clinging to the arm of a lowly policeman.

  ***

  Xavier stumbled to his carriage and was barely able to climb in. “Home, Davy.”

  Instead of pulling away, the carriage dipped and a moment later, Davy opened the door. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine. Can we go?”

  “Sure you don’t want to stop off at Hazel Street so you can change before going to the office?”

  “Yes. Hazel Street, please.”

  Davy continued to stare at him. “When’s Vic coming back?”

  “I don’t know. This case is moving along at the speed of a glacier.”

  “Maybe if you two were working it together, instead of apart, it would go a little faster.”

  “Just drive,” he snapped, feeling worse by the minute.

  Davy huffed and slammed the door shut.

  Nothing would please Xavier more than to join Vic in her cold miserable boarding room, but that would put her at risk. It appeared Tubs wasn’t the only one who was bloody worthless in this case.

  The thought made him physically ill.

  As his stomach cramped in excruciating pain, he realized this was not influenza. Damn it to hell! His father’s former mistress just had her butler poison him.

  He thumped on the ceiling. “Change of plan, Davy. Dr. Connors, at once.”

  Chapter 12

  When Davy dragged his boss through Dr. Connors’ waiting room, which contained the elite of London, they gasped in horror at ‘the poor’ polluting their space. They were baffled when the nurse led the two men straight in to see the doctor.

  One gentleman rose to object, but whatever the nurse whispered silenced him at once. Once seated, he leaned to the woman beside him and shared what he had been told. Upon taking in the information, she told the woman beside her.

  By the time Davy hurried out to his carriage, the entire lobby of very fine people smiled and nodded as he rushed by.

  ***

  Davy didn’t notice the people in the lobby, not when he carried Xavier into the doctor or when Connors told him to bring Inspector Stone at once.

  All he knew was someone had poisoned his boss.

  Davy ignored the people scrambling to get out of the way of his speeding carriage. Upon arriving at New Scotland Yard, he ignored the policeman yelling at him that he couldn’t leave his carriage in front of the building.

  He ran past the officer at the front desk demanding he stop and state his business and ran up what seemed to be a thousand flights of steps to Inspector Stone’s corner office. Just before he reached the door, he was tackled from behind.

  Fortunately, the noise of his fall and his shouts for Inspector Stone brought the head of Scotland Yard to him.

  Upon seeing it was Davy, the Inspector demanded his men to release him.

  Davy scrambled to his feet. “Xavier’s been poisoned. Dr. Connors says to come at once!”

  Stone slipped back into his office, grabbed his coat and hat, and rushed to keep up with Davy as they ran down the endless steps.

  When they exited the building, two policemen were trying to pull Davy’s carriage away, but his horse, Marybell, was having none of it.

  “Janson, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Stone demanded.

  “I’m trying to remove this carriage some damn fool has left unattended.”

  Davy stormed up and demanded the reins.

  “This is the damn fool, sir.” Janson added.

  “Yes, well give him his reins, and we’ll be off,” Stone snapped.

  Upon arriving at Dr. Connors, Davy remained with his horse, Marybell, while Stone went inside.

  ***

  Stone entered the back room of Dr. Connor’s office and discovered, contrary to the fears torturing him on the way over, Xavier was very much alive.

  “For the love of God, Connors, your antidote tastes worse than the poison,” Xavier complained.

  Stone’s heart finally calmed. He considered no one more important to the safety of England than Xavier Thorn. If the fellow were to die, Stone could not imagine how they would manage. Fortunately, the patient was irritated and angry, but without question very much alive.

  Stone smiled.

  Xavier noticed at once. “What the hell are you laughing at? I was damn near killed by Minister M
eridan’s butler.”

  That removed his smile. “A Minister of Parliament tried to kill you?”

  “I said his butler. The man believed me to be a lowly policeman of Scotland Yard. So I thought you should be called, so you could warn your officers to take no coffee while investigating at Meridan’s house.”

  “You were impersonating one of my officers? In that suit?” Xavier could only imagine the angry calls he would receive later today.

  “I had no choice. I had to find out why Conrad had visited the house.”

  “And did it work?”

  Xavier paused before replying, which worried Stone. “Well enough. Conrad was there demanding to know who Alice Bienora’s friends in society were.”

  Stone paused on the name. “Isn’t that Jacko’s wife?”

  “Yes. And only someone outside of society would have ever sent Conrad on such a pointless task. So I’m suspecting the proprietor of the apothecary, Schnell.”

  Stone was about to ask him to further explain his deductive reasoning, but realized he didn’t need too. Due to a highly public murder trial against her step-father, Alice had lost all her friends even before she married the unknown Jacon Bienora, formerly known as, Jacko Goodnow the thief, formerly known as, Jacko Black, the pirate, formerly known as Jacko Smith, the gypsy.

  “So how did this get you poisoned?” Stone asked, hoping to get the conversation back on track.

  Xavier pushed himself up to a seated position, swatting at Connors who tried to stop him. “That is what you need to determine,” he snapped at Stone. “I’m not up to doing your job today. However, rest assured, the poison I consumed was from the coffee I sipped. Thank God, I spit it out. He must have put enough arsenic in there to kill me a hundred times over.”

  Now Stone was pissed. “I already have issues with you pretending to be from Scotland Yard. However, if you must do so, I expect you to behave with upmost decorum! My men do not take tea when they investigate a crime.”

  “It was coffee, not tea. Do we need to bring Meyers in to get the facts straight?” Xavier snapped.

  Stone pressed his temples and remained quiet while he regrouped. When he finally believed he could speak without bellowing, he said, “And why were you taking coffee with…who were you interviewing?”