“Yes, but I won’t go. Keep me on, and I’ll stay here and work—”

“Let me finish. You’ll go. You need the day out. If, before you leave, you make an arrest—one that will stick—then I won’t pull you from the case. If you haven’t solved it before you go, then you’re off.”

Fellows stared at him in dismay. “That’s only two days.”

“Yes, it is. It’s the best I can do for you.”

“I mean it,” Fellows said. “If I can’t solve this case in two blasted days, and you pull me off, I’m gone.”

Kenton raked papers back toward him. “Then you’d better solve it quick then, hadn’t you?”

Fellows moved his fists from the desk again and straightened up. Kenton was finished, the interview over.

As Fellows walked to the door, Kenton cleared his throat behind him. “And stay away from the Scranton woman. I’ll hold you to that. Unless you’re escorting her to Bow Street and the magistrate, I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“Yes, sir,” Fellows said stiffly, and made his way through the building back to his office.

He walked in on Dobbs sitting on a wooden chair holding a hand to his bruised and bloody face. Pierce was wringing out his own hand, looking furious.

“Pierce,” Fellows snapped.

Pierce betrayed no shame. “I was just explaining to Dobbs that he don’t go around his chief inspector to tell tales, no matter what. You respect your team.”

Fellows gazed quietly down at Dobbs, who gazed back, half fearful, half defiant. “Dobbs,” Fellows said, his voice as chill as his stance. “It’s not you peaching to my guv that I mind. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. But if you ever speak about Lady Louisa again, especially in those words, to anyone, I will pound you until you can’t walk. Understand?”

Dobbs swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Now get me coffee and don’t spill anything this time. Pierce, we’re going to clear up this case before Monday. I want you to—”

“Monday?” Pierce said, springing up. “What the devil did the chief super say to you?”

“Monday,” Fellows repeated. “We’re dividing up the suspects between us, and we’ll poke and prod until we get answers. I don’t care who we annoy, provoke, or just plain make hate us. We’re not out to make friends; we’re out to catch a criminal. The first thing I want, though, is for you to find out everything—I mean absolutely everything—about the Honorable Gilbert Franklin. I want to know where he’s been, what he does when he’s there, what he has for breakfast, and when he shits it out again. All right?”

“Shits it out again,” Pierce wrote down in his notebook. “Got it, sir. I’ll start right now.”

Chapter Thirteen

That afternoon, Louisa sat once more in Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ back sitting room. This time, though, Daniel was with her, and Louisa had come for a purpose.

The fact that Mrs. Leigh-Waters received Louisa at all encouraged her. Mrs. Leigh-Waters had always been a close friend to Louisa’s mother and to Isabella, one of the few to stand by Isabella when Isabella had left Mac.

Today, the lady was full of sympathy for Louisa and also for Hargate. “I wake up with palpitations thinking about that poor man,” Mrs. Leigh-Waters said, pressing a hand to her bosom. “What he must have suffered. It must have been quite distressing for you, Louisa, to watch him die. I am so sorry, my dear.”

She sounded sorry, but also a bit morbidly curious. “Indeed,” Louisa said. “Thank you.”

“And you, Mr. Mackenzie,” Mrs. Leigh-Waters said to Daniel. “So kind of you to stand by our dear Louisa.”

“Not at all,” Daniel said. He gave Mrs. Leigh-Waters his best I’m-young-but-very-intelligent-and- understanding smile. “Louisa is a favorite of mine.”

“Of mine as well.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters returned the smile, but with a glint in her eye. She looked back and forth between Louisa and Daniel with obvious interest. Daniel was nineteen, it was true, and Louisa years older than he, but such matches had been made. Once Daniel finished university and came into his majority, he would be a very wealthy young man indeed.

Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ eyes were truly gleaming now. Louisa broke in hastily, “What I wondered, if you’ll forgive me asking, is how you decided who to invite to the garden party? I saw people here I hadn’t in ages.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters blinked. “My guest list was quite large, dear. My garden party is always an important Season gathering. I invite a wide circle, though I keep my list to those I like best.”

In other words, the gathering was large enough to be interesting, but exclusive enough for those invited to feel superior over those who had not been.

“What Louisa means,” Daniel said, “is that she’s surprised the Bishop of Hargate made your list. Louisa hadn’t thought you were particular friends. In fact, Hargate could be a priggish and condescending oik, God rest him.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters flushed. “You are certainly forthright, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“But truthful. Hargate rose high in his profession very fast. My uncle Hart figured he called in favor after favor and bought his way to the top.”

Hart would know. He’d used similar methods himself on occasion, and he likely knew whose nest Hargate had feathered to become bishop.

“Well, your uncle Hart might not be wrong,” Mrs. Leigh-Waters said. “Hargate did ask my husband for a word in the right ear in exchange for him helping Mr. Leigh-Waters in certain matters. It’s often done, but with Hargate . . .”

“It was obvious and obsequious,” Daniel finished. “Is that why you invited him to the party? To repay what he’d done for your husband?”

“No, no.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ flush went deeper. “If you must know, I owed the bishop a bit of money, and he was needling me for it. I invited him at his request, intending to settle the debt here.”

“And did you settle it?” Daniel asked. He softened the abrupt question with a smile, took a sip of tea, and then gestured with his cup. “I mean, did you have the chance before . . . you know.”

“I did, as a matter of fact. I gave him his hundred guineas. Well, most of it.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters leaned toward them, lowering her voice. “Please don’t tell my husband.”

Louisa shook her head. “Never fear about that. Was it a gambling debt?”

“Pardon?” Mrs. Leigh-Waters looked surprised, then her face grew as red as the velvet curtains behind her. “Oh. Yes. Indeed. I had some very bad luck at cards and had to give Hargate a vowel for what I’d lost. I planned to pay him as soon as I could, but he was a bit impatient. For a man of the cloth, I must say, Hargate did not practice much forgiveness.”

In fact, Hargate seemed to excel at all the deadly sins, Louisa thought, pride and avarice being the top contenders. But some gentlemen went into the clergy not because they had a calling or deep faith, but because, if they went the right way about it, they could make a good living and gain power. Hargate had been a power-seeker and hadn’t much tried to hide it.

“I am sorry,” Louisa said. “I know this is difficult for you.”

Daniel gave Mrs. Leigh-Waters a cheerful smile. “At least your slate is clean. You were able to pay your debt, and all was finished.”

“Not exactly.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters put her hand over Louisa’s, her eyes welling with tears. “Dearest Louisa, I must beg your forgiveness. I couldn’t pay Hargate the entire amount. My pin money for the month was gone, and I could not ask my husband for more without telling him why. I didn’t want Mr. Leigh-Waters to know. He doesn’t approve of gambling.”

This was the first Louisa had heard of it. Mr. Leigh-Waters was often seen around card tables at Isabella’s parties, his wife the same. But Louisa smiled encouragingly and let Mrs. Leigh-Waters go on.

“Hargate threatened to go to my husband directly. I begged him not to. I asked what else I could give him,

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