Page 76 of Murder in Blackfriars

“Not at all. I do enjoy pondering a little problem.” Mrs. Davies smiled at me, then slid her gaze to my daughter. “You must be Grace, are you not? Your mum nattered on at length about you, bless her.”

I flushed as Grace stared at me in dismay. “This is indeed Grace,” I said. “Grace, this is Mrs. Davies. She owns a bookshop on Oxford Street.” I had not yet given Grace the novel the woman had pressed on me—I’d planned to after we reached Joanna’s again and weren’t so busy with baking.

Grace looked interested, but she only bobbed a curtsy at Mrs. Davies and said, “How do you do?”

“I am well, thank you.” Mrs. Davies’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “I have a granddaughter about your age. As pretty as you are too.”

Color infused Grace’s cheeks. “Thank you. You are very kind.”

“And you have been taught to be polite to your elders.” Mrs. Davies winked at her. “You run into my shop anytime you like, dear. Your mum, too, when she can tear herself away.”

She teased, but I was grateful for her friendliness. “I believe I owe you a pastry or two,” I told her. “Take as many of whatever you like. Grace will wrap them for you.”

Mrs. Davies clasped her hands. “What a treat. I’ll have two of those little turnovers, dear. They smell lovely.”

* * *

Daniel and Mr. Fielding turned up together, just as I’d sold out my table and was ready to return Grace to Joanna’s. I suspected Mr. Grimes was also about, though I did not see him in the crowd.

“Ah, you are a businesswoman now,” Mr. Fielding said to me as Grace and I put the platters and leftover paper into my basket. “Lucky for my brother. Be careful—he’ll put his feet up and expect you to keep him.”

“I highly doubt that, Mr. Fielding,” I said loftily. I knew he was teasing, but he could be needling.

“Ya have a vicar for a brother, McAdam?” Hannah cut into the conversation. She’d watched Daniel arrive and had approached while I spoke to Mr. Fielding. “Who’d ’a’ thought?” She looked Mr. Fielding up and down, clearly not impressed by what she saw.

Mr. Fielding returned her assessing gaze. “Do I have thepleasure of meeting Hannah Dunnett? I’ve heard that you are a master of disguise, infiltrating homes in Belgravia without being unmasked. No wonder you and Daniel get on.”

Hannah’s expression turned even more wary. “No better disguise than that collar around your throat. A vicar, my eye. I know a confidence man when I see one.”

“He truly is a vicar,” Grace put in. “Though Uncle Daniel says he used to be a very good thief.”

“And a liar, I’m thinking,” Hannah said.

Mr. Fielding thrust a hand to his chest. “You wound me, ladies. Yes, I was a transgressor, in my youth. Then I took a degree in theology and gained a living at a small parish in the east part of this great city. I am a reformed man.”

“No, you ain’t.” Hannah observed him shrewdly. “At least I own up to being crooked. Most of the time, anyway.”

Daniel took my elbow and steered me from this intriguing conversation, which Grace continued to avidly observe.

“I came for the information from your excellent resources,” he murmured to me. “I do have McGregor and Scott interested in Blackfriars now. While it’s technically inside the City, there’s enough worry about smuggling that the City’s constables are amenable to men of the Yard and the River Police assisting.”

The paper in my pocket crinkled as we moved, and I debated whether to show it to him. I was very curious myself, but I decided that clearing up the death of Mr. Banks and stopping Mr. Draper’s smuggling operation was, at the moment, more important than wild speculation on whether Daniel’s parents or caretakers had once purchased a children’s book.

We ducked into a narrower street that led between houses to end in a gate. Here, away from the crowds, I told Daniel about what Albie had seen under Blackfriars Bridge and also what he’d said about Mr. Ramsay.

“Good for Albie,” Daniel said, his eyes afire with animation. “We can watch those docks and nab them in the act. I trust Albie—he’s more loyal to you than he’d be to Draper or his smugglers, even if they offered to cut him in if he kept his mouth shut.”

“I hardly pay him as much as a criminal gang could,” I pointed out. “I give him pennies at a time, and he shares those with his mates.”

“You feed him, don’t you?” Daniel asked with a glint of humor. “And look after him a bit? Likely no one’s ever done that for him.”

I shook my head. “He does not seem prone to hang about any longer than it takes to grab his payment and a buttered muffin.”

“He’s a street rat, like I was. You don’t stay in one place too long, but you learn who is truly good and who is only using you. Albie knows the difference.”

Daniel started to turn and walk back to the market, but I caught his coat sleeve. “When it’s all done, please come and talk with me.”

Daniel regarded me in some surprise. “Of course. I will tell you all, don’t worry. You’ve provided much that is valuable to this investigation. As usual.”