A Question of Numbers
Page 34
“I’ve no cause for complaint, milord,” answered McClellan dryly. “No one has tried to kill us lately.” A pause. “Though the lads do their best to slay any semblance of cleanliness to the floors and their clothing.”
“Tsk, tsk,” clucked the earl. “I would say no biscuits for the wicked—”
Hawk’s grimy face pinched in horror.
“Except I happen to be famished,” he finished.
“Now that we’ve performed all the necessary social graces,” said Charlotte to McClellan, “might you kindly fetch the refreshments, so His Lordship and I can get down to business.”
Assuming an air of innocence, Raven and Hawk fell in step behind the woman as she headed off for the kitchen.
The earl settled himself on the sofa, all well-tailored broad shoulders and long-legged elegance. The room suddenly felt much smaller as Charlotte took a seat in the facing armchair. He seemed to crowd out all else.
“This is a very pleasant room,” he remarked, looking around with an approving glance at the simple but tasteful furnishings. “You were wise to make the decision to leave your old residence.” A tiny, tumbledown sliver of a house, it had been located in a far less savory part of London. “I trust you have no regrets?”
“No,” she replied a little testily, impatient to get to work. In her profession, time was money. She needed to have a finished drawing of the murder to Mr. Fores as quickly as possible in order to best the competition. “Now, might we put aside household matters and turn to what you know about the Bloody Butcher’s latest victim?”
His mouth quirked in amusement. “Likely not enough to satisfy your artistic sensibility, but I shall try.” He shifted and recrossed his booted legs. “To answer the question in your note, yes I was present at the Duke’s gathering. However, I left early as Tyler and I were conducting a complex chemical experiment that required precise timing.”
The earl was one of the country’s leading experts in chemistry, though his devil-may-care behavior and hair trigger temper often overshadowed his intellectual accomplishments. Tyler, his nominal valet, had advanced scientific training and served as his laboratory assistant.
Charlotte blew out her breath. “Damnation, I was hoping you could confirm the ghoulish details. Raven and Hawk heard that the victim’s—”
“They heard right,” interrupted Wrexford. “Mr. Griffin had the same idea as you did. He came to see me early this morning to see if I had attended the soiree, and whether I had seen anything suspicious.”
Griffin, regarded to be the best of the Bow Street Runners, had been involved in investigating the earl when he had been a prime suspect in a murder. Despite a less than auspicious start, they had developed a grudging respect for each other.
“And did you?” she pressed.
“Alas no. But I managed to squeeze some of the more intimate details of the crime out of him.” A wry smile. “If he knew I was passing them on to the infamous A. J. Quill, he’d likely slice off one of my bollocks.”
Charlotte winced. “So, it’s really true . . .”
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