Three Nights of Sin

by Anne Mallory

  He continued his silence, not looking at her.

  “We need Dresden in order to get Kenny released.”

  His eyes met hers. She was surprised to see anger there. Why would he be angry? And the emotion seemed focused on her. What had she done?

  “Do you disagree?” she asked tentatively.

  He looked back to the window. “We could take all of this with us, though it won’t look good if we are found with the lot.” He sounded as if he were talking to himself.

  “Take it with us? Before showing it to Dresden? That seems like it will just point the finger more firmly to my family. Dresden needs to see it here.”

  “He will start horning in on our investigation.”

  “He thinks we are horning in on his already. Gabriel, we need Dresden. You know this better than I.”

  He watched her for what felt like the longest minute in her life. He was going to say no. He wasn’t going to bring Dresden here. She could read it in his eyes, in how he held himself.

  Despair shot through her. Dresden would hold her or arrest her eventually without Gabriel’s help. Both of her brothers would be tried and found guilty.

  His eyes shuttered. “We will bring Dresden here.”

  She was too stunned to speak for a second. A crazy torrent of relief spilled through her. Of course they would. It only made sense. Why would she think he would consider not doing so? And yet, she would swear that had been his intention a few seconds past.

  “Might make a difference, might not. But he will be forced to at least look at the evidence. That this is the man who most likely committed the crimes.”

  “You think Dresden might still think we are lying?”

  “Yes.” He fiddled with his cuff. She had a feeling he had no idea he was doing it. “But it may go a small way toward helping your brother.”

  Even with this evidence, Dresden might not believe them. She stared blankly inside the cupboard.

  He walked over and touched her chin, lifting it. “We will take the chance,” he said grudgingly, as if making a major concession to her instead of just doing what made sense. “Let’s track down the Runner.”

  Gabriel paid an exorbitant amount of money to two men with strict instructions not to let anyone inside the room until he returned—at which time he would double their money. Marietta had little doubt they would return to find the room intact. Furthermore, he gave them an incentive that if they saw and held the man who lived there, he would double again the sum.

  They hailed a hack out front and set off for Bow Street.

  Dresden’s eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead when they walked in. She was surprised when, after he heard their story, he followed them to the boardinghouse with little fanfare. However, after the numerous weighing looks he sent in Gabriel’s direction during the ride, she was less surprised. He was keeping his enemy close.

  For all of the Runner’s stubbornness, she was gratified to see the serious expression on his face as he examined the room and cupboard at the boardinghouse. He cataloged everything with his eyes. Expressions ranging from grimness to irritation crossed his features.

  “Could have been you two all along, setting this up,” he said gruffly.

  “Could have been. Up to you to ask the folks around here and discover the truth,” Gabriel pronounced with an unapproachable look on his face.

  “I don’t like people mucking around in my investigation.”

  Gabriel tipped his cap and turned. “I leave it to you to solve.”

  “Noble, I will catch up with you eventually.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Gabriel led her out of the house and beyond the curious eyes of the boarders.

  She clasped his arm. “We need to warn the other women in the pictures. The ones who are still alive.”

  He pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes.

  “Should we circulate their pictures? How will we find them? Especially the lady in the veil?”

  He turned away from her, looking down the street. “The sketches are in Dresden’s hands. It will be his job to find them. The man is stubborn, but he is usually thorough when given a credible lead.”

  “But—”

  He started moving and she hurried to follow. “No buts. We will continue trying to find Jacob Worley. Leave the women to Dresden. Getting your brother released is our concern, those women are not.”

  His stride lengthened and she fell behind. “But—”

  “Miss Winters? Marietta Winters?”

  Marietta missed a step. Her body tried to freeze but her mind screamed at her to keep moving.

  “Marietta Winters?” A hand grabbed her arm and she was spun to face the narrowed, gleeful eyes of Felicity Tercake. Her perfect bonnet shadowed her face from the sun, giving her an unimpeded view of Marietta. “It is you.”

  “Quite.” She kept herself from gripping her shop girl skirt.

  “Oh, this is too good,” Felicity crowed. “You’ve turned to trade, dear cousin? Walking to the poor-house, are you? Saying a final prayer for that brother of yours?”

  “If you are quite finished.”

  “Not for at least a quarter hour more.” She smirked. “What you’ve missed. You are the talk of the ton, my dear. You and your brothers. Nasty little business there.”

  “I see you are reveling in it.”

  “Oh, indeed. Never did like the lot of you. Hanging on Mother, begging for an invite to all the right functions. It is so freeing to be able to tell you how happy I am to see you cut loose.”

  “Your beneficence will surely be rewarded.”

  “Benton will be declaring for me any day now, so I’m sure it shall be,” she said blithely, flicking the edge of her bonnet.

  Unless things had changed drastically in the past few weeks, Marietta doubted it. “Lord Benton will hardly choose you. He could have a diamond, and you are anything but.”

  Felicity’s eyes narrowed but she continued to smile. “As if you’d know a diamond from paste. How many offers have you had, Marietta? Oh, and how many invitations have graced your door of late?”

  “None,” Marietta said with a calm she didn’t feel. “As you are well aware.”

  “I am,” she purred. “Have you read the papers lately? They say you’ve turned to whoring.” She looked her over. “I will be happy to confirm it.”

  “Such a nasty word for a lady to use.”

  Marietta jumped. She had temporarily forgotten Gabriel. He had been steps ahead of her when she’d been grabbed. Felicity startled as well, turning her bonneted head to see who had addressed her.

  Felicity’s mouth dropped an inch and Marietta watched the cogs turn as her lips pulled into a brilliant smile. Gabriel was the most…well, just the most man she’d ever met. She had little doubt the same was true for Felicity. “Goodness. My apologies, sir. You are most correct. My acquaintance here does tend to bring out the worst in me.”

  “Do you always blame your actions on others?”

  Felicity’s mouth dropped again, but this time from a different kind of shock. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You just said that you behaved poorly because your acquaintance brings out the worst in you.” He leaned toward her, and Marietta saw her cheeks redden, both from his proximity and words. “Hardly taking responsibility for your own actions, are you, miss? It sounds to me like perhaps you just behave badly in general, and then make excuses for it.”

  “I do not behave badly! I am a high ranking member of society, sir.” She smoothed her hands along her skirt and looked up with a new smile. “I assure you my manners are perfectly acceptable.”

  “To whom?”

  Her smile dropped and her eyes widened. “Miss Winters, cousin, if you’d be so kind as to introduce us?” She’d never seen Felicity so flustered.

  Marietta shrugged. “I can’t help you there, Miss Tercake. I don’t know him.”

  “Weren’t you walking with a man?” She looked Gabriel over. “Oh. Must have been a different man.�
��

  “Are you calling her a whore again? Are you sure you are a lady?”

  “My father’s Baron Kilden!”

  “I’m not familiar with the name. Foreign?”

  “Irish!”

  Gabriel rocked back on his heels, saying nothing.

  “Why am I bothering to talk to you! You are nothing.” She seemed to have gotten past his face and looked at his clothes, his longshoreman apparel. Unfortunately, her cheeks were still bright and she’d made a fool of herself over him already. “And you.” She pointed at Marietta. “Don’t show your face at our door asking for help.”

  She marched away. Gabriel watched her go. Marietta watched Gabriel.

  “I see why you would have picked a stranger to help you first.” He looked back to her, his eyes unreadable. “Come. Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 14

  She flipped through the Times again. There were plenty of articles and opinions on the Winters brothers working together on their murder spree. Mostly ugly ones like Felicity had crowed about, but a few articles were creeping in, scattered throughout, proclaiming doubt in their culpability. Describing a few instances where they were at a party or another function and couldn’t have been off murdering women. Nathaniel Upholt was the journalist responsible for writing most of the positive ones.

  In the end, it would all come down to the sway of the tide. And there were only a few more days until the trial would begin. Not much time.

  Marietta sneaked a look around the kitchen to make sure Gabriel hadn’t popped in, silent as usual. She’d heard cats that were louder when they pawed across a floor. She pulled the journal from beneath a pile of the papers. She had fetched it from his room again. This time from behind the door. She’d almost missed it after a thorough search. Clever man.

  L.D.’s husband returns tonight, and with him his personal servants and guard. L.D. says we need to reinstill the need for total silence in our little avenger. This is a dangerous night. One wrong word and our house of cards may fall. But not without the ruin of our little avenger’s family. Total ruin and persecution, what music to my ears.

  If I weren’t so smitten by our little avenger, I might try it just to see the pain in his gorgeous eyes. I so enjoy watching others fall. It reminds me of what my mother used to always tell me—that others are born to serve our whims. That we are born to make, use, and cut the strings of all. That the chessboard moves when no one notices.

  Marietta twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she continued to read. It was all so deliciously awful. That these were the actual thoughts of someone.

  The back door opened. She swung forward in her seat and spilled her cup of water over the right end of the table. She hastily shoved the book beneath a pile of papers and looked forward, mimicking the most innocent look she could dredge up.

  “Marietta, you look as if you have been caught with your fingers in the cook’s pie.”

  Relief sunk her elbows onto the table. “Oh, thank goodness. Jeremy, what are you doing here?”

  “Dropped by to see how my favorite brother and my favorite client of his are doing.” He smiled winningly and sat across from her.

  She arched a brow. “I’m sure. He is your only brother, is he not?”

  He threw his head to the side, his smile growing. “Small quibbles, small quibbles.”

  Marietta drew the newspaper back. She desperately wanted to keep reading the journal. The only times she was able to were when Gabriel was out of the house, and this time he’d only stepped out for a moment. He would always invariably find the journal—how, she didn’t know—and hide it once more. She was surprised he hadn’t burned it, but he seemed to take perverse pleasure in hiding it from her.

  “How is the search going?” He leaned back in his chair, reminiscent of his brother but with a younger, cockier air.

  She needed to figure out how to hide the journal now that Jeremy appeared to be in for a long visit. It lay perilously close to his position. “We found a man who seems suspicious.”

  “Really? Who?”

  She examined the papers around him. Perhaps if she moved that one…

  “A servant. From the Dentry estate.”

  His chair whacked against the floor, also reminiscent of his brother. “What?”

  She looked up at the bang. “Why, are you familiar with the servants there? Oh, that’s right. You are from that area, yes?”

  Jeremy’s mouth pulled up, but the grin was strained. “Yes.”

  She frowned. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought Gabriel discussed the case with you.”

  He waved a hand. “I’ve been out and about the last week. Why don’t you catch me up? How did a Dentry servant get involved?”

  A faint hint of uncertainty spread through her. She liked Jeremy. But he was acting oddly. But then so too was Gabriel. The whole case was making her think strange thoughts.

  “He was stalking the last victim.”

  His leg started bumping up and down. “You know who the last victim was? They haven’t said a thing in the papers.”

  “Gabriel found out through a fence. Something about the woman’s—” Marietta could hardly call her a lady. “—necklace.”

  “Her necklace?” He swallowed. “Interesting. How like Gabriel to put the pieces together so quickly.”

  She frowned. “Are you well, Jeremy?”

  “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, now that you mention it. Do you know the victim’s name?”

  She chewed her lip, her uncertainty turning into flat discomfort. “I’m not sure I should be discussing it with you, if Gabriel hasn’t said anything.”

  He leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes round and earnest, desperation lining his face. He reminded her so much of Kenny, though a slightly wiser and more handsome version. “Please, Marietta. Gabriel tries to protect me, and he needs to stop. He doesn’t—”

  One of his elbows slipped on a bulge in the papers. He looked down, pushing them to the side and unearthing the journal. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She nervously tried to take it from him.

  He opened the cover before she could. She watched his face darken. “Who was the servant you were chasing and why?”

  “Jeremy—”

  “Marietta, please.”

  “Jacob Worley.”

  He stared at her. “And you think him responsible?”

  She fiddled with the paper under her fingers. “I think someone is responsible, and it’s neither of my brothers. This Jacob Worley had constructed an altar to the murdered victims.”

  “A what?”

  “Some sort of shrine with pictures and notes. Like a madman who has fallen in love with the people he kills.”

  Disgust curled his face. “A shrine? To them? That is disgusting.”

  Again there was an undercurrent flowing through the room that she couldn’t comprehend. “I know. What goes through the mind of someone when they kill another person and then set up a shrine?”

  He blinked, as if that hadn’t been what he was saying.

  “Where did you get this?” He hefted the journal.

  “From the woman’s house. It’s horrible. She was horrible.” She held out her hand. He didn’t move. “Jeremy?”

  “You shouldn’t read something like this.”

  She made an impatient motion with her hand. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard that before. Give it here.”

  He didn’t move, so she reached over and pulled it from his hands.

  The sound of the front door opening made her jump, and she shoved the journal right back under the stack of papers. Jeremy raised a brow.

  Gabriel walked into the kitchen and stopped dead. “What are you doing here?”

  “Good afternoon to you too, dear brother.”

  “I thought you were back at school.”

  “I took a leave.”

  “You what?” Gabriel’s voice was forbidding.

  “I will go back next term, if everything works out
.”

  “Explain yourself. If what works out?”

  “My project. I have something I’ve been meaning to take care of for a long time.”

  “What type of project?” she asked.

  “No.” It was the first time she’d ever seen Gabriel look even remotely frightened. His features changed, and there was something terrifying in his expression. “Go back to school. I will have the carriage take you and I will talk to the dean.”

  “No.” Jeremy stood. “I’m staying in London. You can’t control me, Gabriel.”

  “I can. You will go back to school.”

  “Next term.”

  “This term.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Marietta stood to leave.

  Gabriel pointed at her. “Sit.”

  She sat. She immediately stood again, irritated with herself for following the command. “Why don’t you listen to what Jeremy has to say?”

  “Because I don’t care what he has to say. He is going back to school today.”

  Jeremy’s face was a picture of hurt and determination. “No, Gabriel. If you force the issue, I will cut off contact.”

  Marietta caught the devastation on Gabriel’s face before it disappeared behind a mask of iron. “I’ll cut off your allowance.”

  Jeremy opened his mouth. Whatever came out next from either of them was going to be unforgivable, she could feel it in the way their eyes flashed and their stances both turned into a mirror of aggressiveness. She cut Jeremy off and turned to Gabriel. “Why are you doing this? Just ask him what his project is.”

  “I don’t want to know what his project is.” She wasn’t sure which was worse, the pain in Gabriel’s eyes or the pain in Jeremy’s.

  “That’s right,” Jeremy said. “It’s only your pain, Gabriel. Your way to ignore everything and maybe it will just go away.” He swept his hand over the papers on the table, scattering them to the floor. A corner of the journal peeked from beneath the mess still on the scarred oak.

  Marietta heard a trickle of water somewhere. They all stared at the journal. It just sat there staring back.

  “Goddammit, Marietta!” Gabriel jerked the journal from the pile, spraying papers further. He stormed from the room and upstairs. There was a loud whack as he threw it against something.