In the reflections he saw Louisa, her red hair coming down, the sultry look in her eyes when he’d lain her back on the desk. He heard her voice, low and vibrant, saying his name. Lloyd.

He’d do anything to have her say it to him like that again.

Sleeping being out of the question, Fellows had come in to see if he could make sense of all this mess.

“Now?” Fellows repeated irritably.

“Yes, sir. Says it’s urgent.”

Fellows heaved an aggrieved sigh, slammed papers aside, got to his feet, and headed out of the room. Constable Dobbs was just coming in with cups of tea, and the two met in the doorway. Fellows turned sideways to move past him. Dobbs turned red. The constable’s hands shook so hard that tea sloshed from the full cups and splashed to Fellows’ shoes.

“Watch yourself, Constable,” Fellows snapped, then he was past and striding down the hall.

Detective Chief Superintendent Giles Kenton had been Fellows’ superior for nearly five years. It had been Kenton who’d lifted his former superior’s restrictions on Fellows’ promotions, put in place when Fellows had been fanatically pursuing the Mackenzies for murder.

Kenton had made clear that Fellows needed to have a care in who he offended with his obsessive investigations. Kenton was a good man to work for, though, because he recognized that Fellows had a unique way of solving his cases and that his clear-up rate was better than most.

Kenton waved Fellows to the only other chair in his office, keeping his attention on the papers that littered his desk. That was a good sign. No sitting upright, hands on the desk, gaze trained on Fellows. Just Kenton doing what he usually did.

Kenton signed a piece of paper, blotted the paper, and clattered the pen to a tray, spraying a few ink droplets to his desk. Finally he pushed aside everything and looked up at Fellows.

Not so good. Kenton had a sharp light in his eyes that came from anger. “I’m pulling you and your team off the Hargate case,” he said.

Fellows’ answer was abrupt and instant. “No. You can’t. I mean . . . No, sir. Please don’t.”

“I can and I will. Hargate was powerful, and his family is powerful, both his father’s and his mother’s. His friends are powerful. They are all busily screaming for our blood, wondering why we haven’t closed this case yet.”

Fellows couldn’t stay seated. He was on his feet, fists clenched. “It’s been less than a week. Cases like this can take months. Years. You know that.”

“Yes, I know that. Civilians don’t, especially posh ones. They either want the police to work miracles or else they complain we’re a bloody nuisance.”

“Then they should let me get on with my job. Having my chief super pull me in to twit me is wasting time.”

Kenton gave him a severe look. “Are you finished?”

Fellows leaned his fists on the desk. “You can’t take me off this case, sir.”

“Listen.” Kenton’s voice lost its edge. “Fellows, you are the best detective on the force. I don’t even qualify that by saying you are one of the best. You truly are the best. You’ll make detective superintendent in no time, probably chief super beyond it, and likely higher than that. You’re the best because you not only have good instincts, you’re also careful and thorough. You follow up on everything. Unfortunately, Hargate’s family wants a quick arrest. And they’re wondering why the devil you haven’t made one.”

“Because I haven’t found a culprit yet,” Fellows said, trying not to shout. “As soon as I get a lead on the man seen crawling out from under the tent, I’ll bring him in.”

“Hmm, yes. Very convenient this bloke is, isn’t he? He gives you a good excuse not to pull together the evidence to arrest Lady Louisa Scranton.”

“Because she didn’t do it.” The shout came then.

“Maybe not. But consider—once she’s arrested and examined by a magistrate, and the magistrate determines her innocence, she’ll be let go. End of the matter.”

Fellows shook his head. “For God’s sake, you know she can’t afford to appear before a magistrate. He’ll be compelled by Hargate’s family to push her through to a trial, and they’ll make sure the very best prosecutor in the country gets her convicted. The Scrantons haven’t been well liked since Louisa’s father ruined half the aristos in Mayfair. No one would fuss much if a Scranton was buried for this.”

“Then Lady Louisa’s family will come up with a barrage of solicitors to help her. You know that. Her ties to the Mackenzies will help too. And those ties are the exact reason I’m taking you off this case.”

Fellows stood up, his fists tightening. “What the devil does that mean?”

“It means that you are the finest detective on the force—until you have something to do with the Mackenzie family. Then your common sense takes a dive out the window. You break rules, you don’t sleep, you focus your energy on them and everything about them. Five years, wasn’t it, that you tried to pin a murder on them? The duke had to threaten gents in the Home Office to get you to stop. And then you went behind everyone’s back, chased Lord Ian Mackenzie to Paris, and tried a number of ways to get around the rules to land him.”

“But I got to the bottom of the problem,” Fellows said, voice stiff. “Murders solved. Case closed.”

“You’re quibbling, Fellows. You solved them, all right, but a woman died, and another nearly died in the process. I’m taking you off the case, because I can’t explain to Hargate’s father—an earl—and his mother—the daughter of a marquis—why you haven’t arrested Lady Louisa Scranton by now. I imagine you don’t wish me to tell them it’s because she’s your mistress.”

Fellows’ face burned. “Good Lord, sir. She is not my mistress.”

“Then why did Dobbs charge in here bright and early this morning and tell me she was? Yes, he gave me the whole story of finding you ravishing the lead suspect in the Hargate case on top of your desk.” Kenton’s mouth tightened. “You need to speak to that lad about going over your head to spread tittle-tattle. A constable should be loyal to his own guvnor, whether that guvnor is ravishing suspects or not.”

“I wasn’t ravishing her,” Fellows said. “Dobbs got it wrong.” And he’d wring the boy’s neck.

“Dobbs’ exact words were: He had her spread across the desk, knees up, and he were kissing her tits.” Kenton mimicked Dobbs’ youthful voice exactly. “Not something I wanted to hear, trust me.”

“It doesn’t matter what Dobbs saw or what he said.” Fellows’ voice hardened. “It doesn’t matter what my feelings for her are either. Louisa Scranton is innocent. I know it. Whatever the world thinks of her, she did not kill the Bishop of Hargate.”

“Climb down off your high horse. I don’t care if you had her naked on her hands and knees and were giving her one up the backside. I care that Hargate’s dad and mum and all the titles they’re connected to want a result. My neck’s being breathed on, and so I’m breathing on yours. You’re too slow. I’m giving the case to Harrison.”

“No.” Cold fear spread through Fellows’ body. “Harrison arrests everyone in sight then sorts out who did what. Sometimes he doesn’t find out the truth until several people have been hanged.”

“But he’s fast and he gets his man. Or woman.”

“No.” Fellows leaned over the desk again, barely stopping himself from grabbing Kenton and shaking him. “Please. I promise I’ll stay the hell away from Lady Louisa. Miles away if need be. But don’t take me off the case. I’ll find the culprit—I promise you. Don’t leave her to Harrison’s mercy.”

Kenton gave him a severe look. “I’ve gone to the wall for you, Fellows. Several times. Worth it to keep you. But by God, you push it.”

“If you give this to Harrison, sir, I’m off the force.”

Kenton scowled. “Don’t threaten me. I’ve been threatened by more frightening men than you in my time, believe me, including my own guvnor.”

“I’m not threatening. If I’m off the case, I’m gone. I’ll not stay where men arrest innocent young women only to prove they’re getting things done. I’ll go, and then I’ll protect her from you any way I can.” He paused. “Sir.”

Kenton sat back in his chair. The look on his face said he knew damn well Fellows wanted to throttle him, but he put up no defenses. “You said you were going off to the races on Monday. To Newmarket.”

Вы читаете The Untamed Mackenzie
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