Page 77 of Murder in Blackfriars

I hadn’t meant we’d talk over the smuggling ring and Mr. Banks’s death, but I did not elaborate. Daniel had become focused on the smugglers and Naismith, and I did not want to distract him from that. We could speak about the question of his past later.

We returned to the market to find Hannah and Mr. Fielding still facing each other. Hannah’s cheeks were flushed, Mr. Fielding’s jaw tight. Grace watched with interest, but she turned happily to me when we reappeared.

“Time we were going,” I said brightly.

Hannah jerked her attention from Mr. Fielding, blinking as though recalling where she was. “I’ll tear down your table, Katie. Go on. See you on Thursday.”

Mr. Fielding rigidly pulled himself back to Daniel. “Time to go, brother.”

His speech had shed its overblown formality, Mr. Fielding no longer playing a part. He did not look at me or Daniel but started down the road without saying farewell to any of us.

Daniel conveyed his own cheerful good-byes and hurried after him. He moved with vigor, pleased to be on the hunt once more.

He always would be, I reflected as Grace and I finished packing up, Hannah uncharacteristically silent beside us.

Daniel had enjoyed being a Scotland Yard detective, whether he claimed he did it under duress or not. I did not think he’d ever give it up, even to settle into married life with me.

* * *

Not until after supper that night, once Tess and I had cleaned the kitchen and eaten our own meal, did I have a chance to open the list Mrs. Davies had given me and scan it.

Tess was already beginning preparations for the next day, turning the leftover roasted beef bones into stock on the stove. While her attention was on that, the rich aroma of beef broth and onions wafting to me, I looked over the names.

There was more than one page, I’d discovered, folded together. They contained a dishearteningly long list, one of the pages covered front and back.

Mrs. Davies had been thorough, however. Each name had an address and also a note of all books the person or familyhad purchased. The date of purchase was listed alongside it, covering the years 1852 through 1854. Since I had no way of knowing when exactly Daniel’s parents or nanny would have read him the book, we’d have to look at them all.

Daunting, but it was nice to have a place to begin.

I had given Grace the book from Mrs. Davies’s shop—Miss Sewell’s novel about a horse—and Grace had expressed delight and a promise to read it right away. I would not hold her to that, as I knew she had many things to do. But perhaps it could occupy her on the journey to Basingstoke.

When Cynthia hurried in through the back door later, after Tess and the others had gone to bed, I stopped her and offered her tea.

She was in her tailor-made man’s suit again, entering the house through the kitchen in an attempt to evade her aunt. The fact that she’d returned an hour before midnight, however, told me her last argument with Mrs. Bywater had rattled her.

“How is the research?” I tried to ask casually as she seized the teacup and drank steadily. There was no coffee left for her, but she seemed too impatient for me to brew more.

Cynthia heaved a satisfied sigh after she’d drained the cup. I refilled it and pushed a plateful of scones toward her. She reached for one eagerly.

“We are carrying on fearlessly,” she said. “Thanos is very good at marching through tedious ledger after tedious ledger. I’m not as stoic, I am sorry to say, but I’m proficient at copying out what he believes is important. We’ll have a list for you soon. Oh, and Judith is nudging her father about old records as well. She has that man wrapped around her little finger. I wish I had such a skill.”

Cynthia shook her head but happily bit into the scone and accepted the second cup of tea.

“Thank you,” I said. “And please thank Miss Townsend. It is good of her.”

“She likes you, Mrs. H. You’ve done her good turns in the past, and she will always be grateful. Besides, she hopes for more lemon cake out of it.”

“Which she will have.” I was lucky to have such kind friends. “I’ve obtained a list of my own, of a sort. I would like you and Mr. Thanos to compare it to yours and see if any names match. Though I’d like to peruse it a bit more before I hand it to you. I haven’t had much time for that yet, and want to see what I can make of it.”

Cynthia regarded me in curiosity but agreed. “I’m meeting Thanos tomorrow afternoon, back in the archives. I’ll pop down here and fetch it before I go. Will that do?”

“That will do splendidly.” I’d read it over and make my notes before I went to bed tonight. “By the by, how is Mr. Thanos?”

I spoke as off-handedly as I could, but Cynthia knew exactly what I meant.

“Thanos is brilliant, absentminded, and absolutely lovely. Has he announced he’s potty in love and proposed to me? No. Has he taken me into his arms and kissed me? Assuredly not.”

“Oh.” I tried not to be disappointed. Mr. Thanos would always be every inch the gentleman. “He will come round.”