Page 57 of Murder in Blackfriars

Did I see a faint smile on his lips? “McAdam listens to you, as does the so-called vicar. I am not one who believes a person a dullard because she is female. Everyone is foolish or wise,sharp or dull-witted, irrespective of their sex. I had nothing to do with the murder in Blackfriars or the enterprise the dead man, McAdam, and Grimes have stumbled over. What I want is for them to stop it.”

I blinked as I took in the information. “What enterprise? Who did kill Mr. Banks?”

Mr. Naismith shook his head ever so slightly. “The murderer could have been anyone. I do know that Banks was involved in a ring who think they can operate on my patch with impunity. That I’m too old to stop them.” The hint of smile came again, but soon died. “The trouble is, the ring reaches close to home, and I don’t know who I can trust. McAdam needs to shut it down.”

“You are asking me to tell Daniel to help you?” I demanded in amazement. “I doubt very much he will feel any loyalty to you, sir. Not after what happened to Mr. Carter.”

“An event I was not involved in. Carter was a deadly enemy, yes. McAdam doesn’t understand how deadly.”

“You never denied having him killed.” I do not know where this bravery came from, but I made myself continue. “You could have told Daniel the truth long ago.”

The opera cloak twitched as Naismith shrugged. “The clearing out of a rival villain was to my advantage, and the evidence pointing to me only enhanced my reputation. I can’t help that McAdam is stubbornly imperceptive.”

I was not ready to simply believe him. A man did not become a leader in the East End by being angelically truthful.

“I will of course tell Mr. McAdam you paid me a visit,” I said coldly. “I imagine he will not be happy about it. But I cannot promise he will fly to aid you or give credit to anything you say.”

Another shrug. “That will be to his misfortune. If he wantsmy information, he has leave to come to me, without any danger. He is treading deep waters, with people who will kill him as soon as look at him. That goes for his friends Fielding and Grimes, and you and anyone you are attached to.”

The fiery rage that shot through me held no fear. I advanced on the carriage, making the thin manservant step forward to prevent me.

“Any threats to those I care for will be met fiercely, you can be certain,” I declared.

Mr. Naismith gestured his man to withdraw. “The threat does not come from me. I do not hurt innocent children, or Mayfair ladies, or harmless scholars. Or cooks.” He added the last with the frightening twitch of lips.

But he knew all about them, and all about me.

Now I wanted Grace off in Basingstoke, far, far from this man and the other enemies he’d mentioned. I wanted to rush to Clover Lane, pack her bags, and shove her, Joanna, Sam, and family onto the train at once.

“Please go,” I said stiffly. “A constable walks this beat, and the police don’t take kindly to intruders in these streets.”

“A vast number of people, from those who mean harm to those who intend to do good, pass through these streets every day.” Mr. Naismith gave me a nod, then flicked his fingers at the manservant, who slammed the door. “Good night, Mrs. Holloway.”

I did not return the farewell.

I stood numbly as the carriage rumbled away along Mount Street toward Berkeley Square, the manservant scrambling onto the back of the coach as it passed him.

Cold wind buffeted me and swung my empty basket, but I could not move.

The man Daniel had been warning me against almost sinceI’d met him had discovered everything about me, including where I lived and about my daughter.

I felt sick and enraged, helpless but wanting to chase after the carriage and finish off Mr. Naismith with a large rock.

I doubted committing murder would help. I’d be hanged, and whoever was second-in-command in Naismith’s gang would simply take over.

Perhaps this was what Naismith feared—that the ones poised to step into his shoes when he was gone were trying to hasten that day.

I stood on the cold, dark, empty street, for how long I did not know, before I woodenly turned and took myself back into the house.

* * *

I lay awake long into the night, ruminating on what Mr. Naismith had told me. He’d terrified me with his hints about my daughter and my friends, because I knew if he decided to strike, I could never stop him.

Tears leaked from my eyes in the freezing darkness before my usual resolve dried them. I would not let him win.

My tiring day sent my body to sleep, though my mind was still spinning, and I woke rather groggily early in the morning.

Downstairs, I began preparations by rote, happy that I had so much experience cooking that I could do it while my mind was elsewhere. Or almost. Tess had to stop me adding so much butter into the flour for scones that they’d be a greasy mess.