Heartless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 3): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series

by Nicola Claire

  “No,” I said softly.

  “Then you must find her a husband who will. Because I tell you now, John Drummond is out for blood.” He held up a hand to stall my words before they’d a chance to be spoken. “I back him on this. She is a menace. She may well be a doctor, but not a police surgeon.”

  “She is better at it than Thomas was.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “It is true.”

  “Like I said, you are bewitched.”

  “I…”

  “Enough!” The words were spoken quietly, but firmly; they held more meaning for their lack of volume. “You are to cease relations with her immediately or forfeit your position in Auckland.”

  I let out a breath of air; appalled that I was relieved not to have been sent packing.

  Auckland was my home.

  Anna was here.

  I shook my head, trying to organise my thoughts; attempting to find a way around Chalmers’ orders.

  I could see none.

  And he was correct.

  I was not in a position to ask for Anna’s hand.

  “As you wish,” I said to the superintendent.

  He studied me for a long moment and then said, “You have a crime scene to see to, Inspector. I suggest you begin your questioning while the doctor is assessing the victim. Sergeant Blackmore can receive the doctor’s initial report.”

  I nodded my head. Chalmers called the bobbies over and instructed they release me. I rubbed my wrists once the cuffs were off and watched as the superintendent crossed to his carriage.

  “Steer clear of Drummond, Kelly,” he said in parting. “And that woman.”

  I stood still on the kerbstone outside The Northern Club and waited until Chalmers’ curricle had disappeared.

  “I could not stop Inspector Elliott, sir,” Blackie said from my side. “And the superintendent did not want me to escort Miss Cassidy.”

  I nodded and said nothing, but for the life of me I could not move from where I stood.

  “Drummond caused a scene, did he?” Blackie asked quietly.

  Was he asking so he could report to his mistress? Or was he asking as a friend and colleague would?

  I closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose, and let out a wretched breath.

  “Who have you rounded up, Sergeant?” I asked, turning my attention to the building behind me.

  “Six of the help and thirty of the clientèle, sir. They’re none too happy to be kept waiting; I’ll tell ya that.”

  I grunted and climbed the steps to the front door. Not bothering to knock, I strode in as if I had every right to be there; Blackmore at my back, the door banging closed announcing our arrival.

  “I’ll talk to the members first,” I said.

  “Right you are, sir,” Blackmore offered.

  I spotted the footman and said, “A quiet room, if you please. And we are not to be disturbed.”

  “You…” he began and then gained control of himself. “At once, sir.”

  He indicated a music room off to the side, and I walked into it. The fire was glowing, but the heat did not reach my body. I felt as though I would feel the chill for the rest of my life.

  Where was Anna now? On Franklin Street? Exiting the curricle? Her hand in William Elliott’s as he helped her alight the vehicle?

  I pushed that unwanted vision from my head and took a seat beside the pianoforte. My thigh throbbed. My body ached from where I’d suffered Drummond’s blows and from Anna’s absence. Not that I disagreed with the superintendent; I should not have brought her here. But Anna had a way of making me see things from a different viewpoint. Of believing as she did that she belonged everywhere.

  I would not want for her to be ostracised. She is far more capable than most men. But that was not our society, and until society changed, she would always be exempt from places like this.

  From the police surgery.

  I thought of Thomas as Blackmore went to get the first eye-witness. I thought of how disappointed in me he would be. His look a similar one to the look Chalmers had given me this evening.

  Ian Chalmers and Thomas Cassidy had been friends once. But it was to me and not Ian that Thomas had turned to. “Protect her,” he’d said, “should anything happen to me. Promise me; you’ll look after Anna.”

  At the time, I’d not believed there would be a necessity. But Thomas had known something I had not; perhaps he’d had an idea of how near death he’d been. But how he could have foreseen what was to come in Northland that fateful day, I do not know.

  But even knowing his end was near would not have stopped Thomas Cassidy from helping those in need. Especially if the need had been asked for.

  Five dead at the stone store in Kerikeri. Anna’s father amongst them.

  I still did not know for certain why the natives had taken up arms that day. But considering what I’d learnt of Wilhelmina Cassidy’s history whilst in London, it was not difficult to believe the missionaries had somehow overstepped a boundary.

  Thomas had merely been collateral damage. Had the Nga Puhi known this man protected Wilhelmina Cassidy, a one-time child of their care, would they have spared him?

  I didn’t know, and he couldn’t have known, but still, he’d asked me to watch over his daughter.

  I had done my best, as much as Anna had allowed me, and in doing so, I had drawn her closer to this end. To this moment in time where more damage than aid had been given.

  Chalmers was right; I had to step back. I had to walk away.

  The thought wounded me. I sucked in a pain-filled breath as the first eye-witness entered the room. Blackie took up a position at the door, guarding. A shadow that could provide solace and wariness in one swift offering.

  I turned my thoughts outward, to what awaited me here. To the news of what my ex-wife had accomplished.

  The dead man had been a long-standing member. There appeared no correlation between him and the two transient workers. The only connection was their means of death.

  Two puncture wounds to the carotid which did not exsanguinate. And one pericardial cavity minus a heart within it. The puncture wounds matched the two previous victims precisely. The gaping hole in the chest was a repeat of the murderer’s former efforts.

  No one saw anything that could have resembled a device suitable for cracking the ribs and spreading them.

  No one saw anyone who shouldn’t have been there.

  There was no sign of a forced entry. No evidence of trespass. Nothing to indicate one of the members had done this. The reaper had come, and the scythe had fallen, and an innocent man now lay on the floor of the library.

  There was no connection between the victims save me. And Eliza May.

  “That’s it,” Blackie said. “The last one. And we’ve nothing for it.”

  “Not nothing, Sergeant,” I said, staring out the window of the music room at the sun rising above Mechanics Bay.

  “What’s that then, sir?”

  “Why The Northern? Why here?” I mused.

  “Convenience?”

  “To whom? The murderer?” I shook my head. “Perhaps, but I think there might be another reason.”

  I turned to face him. I did not trust him. Not fully. He’d been implicated in Eliza May’s plans, either truthfully or unfairly. And until I could ascertain which, I would remain cautious.

  But if he were connected to my murderess wife, then news of my deductions would reach her. And I could think of nothing more rewarding than knowing I was landing a blow to her ego, such as it was.

  She thought herself above all others. More intelligent. More entitled. More omniscient.

  She was none of those things, and I aimed to disabuse her.

  “This is a gentleman’s club,” I said.

  “Aye, sir, it is,” Blackmore agreed.

  “And I have long thought my barracks are being observed.”

  “You ‘ave, sir?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Then…she knew you was with t
he doctor and she knew you’d bring her ‘ere.”

  “Yes.”

  “And she bloody well knew you’d get in trouble for it, an’ all.” He spat on the floor beside him.

  It couldn’t be Blackie, I thought. Almost desperately. It couldn’t be this man who had betrayed me.

  “The victim was a convenience; the location not,” I concluded.

  Blackie shook his head and then asked, “Did she succeed, sir?”

  “Succeed? I am still Chief Inspector for the Auckland Police Force.”

  “Nay, sir. Not your job. Your woman. Did the wench succeed in driving a wedge between ya? Are you stepping back from Dr Cassidy?”

  If Blackie was hers, then the answer was simple.

  If he wasn’t, I was about to lie to my friend.

  “Of course not,” I said. “I will honour Thomas Cassidy’s dying wishes.”

  Perhaps not entirely a lie, as I would do everything in power to see Anna safe.

  I’d just do it from as far away from her as I could manage.

  Right You Are, Miss

  Anna

  The cold air seeped in through my cloak and made me shiver. I watched the shadows jump as we passed each gas lamp, insects dancing in the dim light they delivered. They were ignorant of the injustices of life.

  “You should not take it so personally,” Elliott said from beside me.

  I turned and studied the man. His hair was in need of a cut, yet his whiskers were well trimmed. His dark gaze surveyed the road before us; I was certain he missed not a thing that walked in the shadows. His hands were large as they gripped the reins, deftly directing the horse towards Franklin Street.

  I had not told him where I lived.

  “Have you visited Auckland before, Sergeant?” I asked, ignoring his statement completely.

  “Inspector,” he corrected, not making eye contact. “And no, madam, I have not.”

  Reid would have promoted him. Had Edmund Reid received a higher position as well?

  “Yet you are familiar with the lay of the land,” I offered, choosing not to comment on Elliott’s rise up the Metropolitan’s ranks. Nor think too hard on Edmund Reid back in London.

  He smiled; it was more of a smirk than anything jovial.

  “Am I to be investigated, Doctor? What a curious mind you have.”

  “For a woman?” I enquired.

  “Perhaps,” he acknowledged with a dip of his head.

  “Why are you here, Inspector?”

  “Straight for the kill!” he announced and laughed; it was loud in the quiet of the night and received a dog’s bark for its effort.

  “I merely make conversation, sir,” I said.

  “You, Doctor, do no such thing, I’d wager.”

  “You will not answer?”

  “I believe it would be impertinent to do so.”

  “And you, Inspector, are not so inclined to show one proper respect.”

  He was silent for a moment and then said, “I fear, good lady, that we have made a misstep in our acquaintance thus far that should be remedied. I apologise if I have been at all disrespectful in our conversations. It was not my intention to be impolite.”

  I wasn’t so sure his apology was heartfelt, but I could not accept it without myself being impertinent.

  “Very well,” I said and looked forward as the buggy entered Franklin Street.

  “I should like to ask a question,” the man said a moment later.

  “You may ask, however, I cannot guarantee an answer that would please you.”

  He smiled, and this time it appeared more jolly.

  “Does your heart belong to the inspector’s?”

  I said nothing, for there were no words which could convey my depth of feeling for Andrew. And I had not the wherewithal to discuss such with this man.

  “I see,” he murmured as he brought the curricle to a standstill outside my home.

  I looked at the lone candle flickering in the drawing room’s window and then glanced up at Mina’s room and noted a light was glowing behind the drapes. I knew what awaited me inside and I knew I could not avoid it, but still, I was hesitant to alight the vehicle.

  Inspector Elliott had no such qualms and climbed down from his side of the bench seat. He clucked to the horse and then rounded its nose, coming alongside my seat to assist me. He held one gloved hand out in a gentlemanly manner.

  I’d stalled long enough.

  I took his hand and stepped down from the curricle.

  He did not let go.

  “There are foul deeds upon the air in this fair city, Doctor,” he said quietly. “I would offer my assistance should you require it.”

  I looked up into what appeared to be sincere eyes and blinked.

  “You are here, are you not, to condemn Andrew Kelly,” I accused.

  “I am here for far more dangerous prey than he.”

  “Should chance favour you, sir, you would not decline its offering.”

  He slowly inclined his head.

  He would chase down Eliza May, but he would settle for Andrew Kelly. Reid had sent him; I was sure.

  I removed my hand from his grasp and said, “Thank you for the escort, sir. I require no further assistance.”

  I stepped onto the path that led to our front door; he did not follow.

  The door open, I glanced back and met his steady gaze.

  “You are wasted here, Dr Cassidy,” he said. “You are wasted on him, and you may well die for the ill-chosen loyalty you have given.”

  “It is my loyalty to give, sir and I will not have my choices made for me.”

  I slipped inside the house and closed the door, then leaned back against it and breathed heavily. When I had gathered myself, I strode into the parlour and went to the window. With one swift breath of air, the candle snuffed out. Through the smoke that rose from the wick, I saw the inspector watching the house. He had not moved.

  We watched one another. I did not know why he was here, but if I could distract him with Eliza May, then I would do so. I would protect Andrew from this harassing.

  I merely had to find a way to out Eliza May.

  I turned from the window and made my way upstairs. It was dark, but I did not light a candle; too sure that the inspector would watch my progress from the buggy. Once I made the landing and the window at the front of the house, I looked out upon a deserted street.

  I pushed the spectre of William Elliott from my mind.

  Three murders, I mused, and from what I had briefly seen of the victim this eve, he had met the same fate as the labourers. What was the connection? Why choose them; for it was my experience that victims were chosen with purpose.

  My mind played over this evening’s events, and I wondered if indeed the location out-matched the choice of the victim on this occasion. A gentleman’s club which would not harbour a woman for life nor limb. And I with the inspector.

  Andrew was being watched. It was not too far a stretch to believe such, and yet it sent a disturbed shiver down my spine at the knowledge.

  I made my feet work and crossed to Mina’s bedroom door; pushing it open slowly, I peered within. Mrs Hardwick was asleep in the armchair we’d had brought in here for such occasions.

  Mina, however, was awake and waiting.

  “Dearest,” I murmured, not wishing to wake poor Hardwick. “Can you not sleep?”

  “I have slept well, cousin,” Mina replied softly. “Are you just now returning?”

  I nodded and crossed the room to her bed. I fussed with her pillows, while my eyes took in the level of laudanum in the bottle on the bedside table. Did it seem lower than when I had left this evening?

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, pulling back from my ministrations.

  “Quite fine. How was the meeting?”

  “Boring and long,” I said, offering the lie up all too easily.

  “I have not missed much, then?”

  “You have missed nothing of import at all, sweeting.”

 
I checked on Mrs Hardwick and then the fire, stoking the embers and adding a log. The flames flickered to life in short order, and I finally felt a warmth seep in through my clothes. I was still wearing my cloak, I realised. So distracted from the inspector’s presence, I hadn’t removed the garment before leaving the front hall.

  I glanced down at it and then across the room to Mina.

  She smiled; it was at once knowing and full of sorrow.

  “What has happened, Anna? You know you can talk to me.”

  At one time that may well have been, but Mina was far too fragile now to be advised of such sad tidings.

  “I am merely tired, dearest,” I said, offering up a yawn.

  “Then you should sleep,” she said, rolling over in her bed and showing me her back. “Please extinguish the light, cousin,” she added.

  I stared at her back for a moment and then did as she asked. She did not say another word to me. I left feeling disheartened and guilty. Moments like this were the hardest. When Mina behaved as she used to be; intelligent, engaging, cognizant of what was happening around her.

  These moments could not be trusted, however. I had fallen for their allure before and been burned for it. And caused her severe burning.

  I entered my bedroom and stared at nothing. The cold seeped in through my cloak again. The fire had long since burned out, and the warmth it had given had gone with it. I sat down on the edge of my bed and felt more alone than I had since my father’s passing.

  I was not blind to what had transpired this evening. To what the consequences of my presence at the gentleman’s club would bring.

  I knew Andrew, and I knew Superintendent Chalmers.

  And I knew what this would mean.

  I would not hear nor see Andrew Kelly unless I took the steps necessary to cross paths with him. He would avoid me now; at Chalmers’ behest. He would have no choice but to withdraw his affections permanently.

  This was what she wanted. This was the game she played. The deaths were byproducts of a sick and twisted mind; one which was possessive and dismissive in equal measure. She did not want her husband, but she did not want anyone else to have him either.

  At one time that would have meant something to me. Eliza May is Andrew’s legally wedded wife. But I had long ago accepted my role in this travesty. And chosen to ignore her rights due to her hostilities.