Page 56 of The Marriage Method
“Very good, Mr. Quincey.” Mr. Higgins withdrew, shutting the door after him.
Miles remained beside Nell. All sign of humor—good or otherwise—had vanished from his countenance. He was, once again, as inscrutable as stone. “Well, Inspector? I assume you have news about my missing reporter?”
Inspector Garrick hesitated, glancing at Nell. “It’s of a delicate nature, sir. It may give offense to ladies.”
“My wife is privy to this sad business,” Miles said. “I give you leave to continue.”
Nell waited anxiously for the inspector to speak. Despite Miles’s assurances, the man was still visibly reluctant to discuss the matter in front of a female. It took him a full five seconds to find his voice.
“I’m sorry to report that a body was recovered this morning on the banks of the Thames matching the description you provided of one Mr. Lawrence Cowgill,” he said at last. “It’s currently being held at the hospital mortuary for identification. If you would be so good as to accompany me there.”
“Is this body missing its tongue?” Miles asked.
“It is,” the inspector said.
Nell recalled the sight of the severed organ with a private shudder. “Was that the cause of death?”
Again, Inspector Garrick hesitated. “He was stabbed, ma’am. Twice in the chest. The surgeon says the first strike would have killed him.”
Nell paled. She looked up at Miles. “Poor Mr. Cowgill.”
“Poor Mr. Cowgill, indeed,” Miles murmured. He regarded the inspector. “Are you the one tasked with investigating his murder?”
“I have that burden,” Inspector Garrick said. “His murder, and countless others. We do our best to solve them, but given our lack of resources, and the daily addition to their numbers…I can make no promises.”
“We have information that might help you,” Miles said.
The inspector stood to attention. “I should be grateful to hear it, sir.”
“Excellent.” Miles offered Nell his hand to assist her up. “My wife and I can fill you in on the way to the hospital.”
• • • • •
One hour later…
What is it you were going to say to me before Higgins interrupted us?” Miles asked as their carriage rolled away from the hospital.
Nell fixed him with a frosty glare. He’d included her easily enough on the journey to the mortuary with Inspector Garrick. Together, they had apprised the man of what they’d learned in Whitechapel—about Mrs. Pritchard, Mr. Cowgill’s incarceration in the brothel, and even the disappearance of Flora Brent. But when they’d arrived at the hospital, rather than inviting Nell to accompany him in to identify the body, Miles had requested that she remain in the carriage.
No, not requested. Commanded.
At the time, Nell had grudgingly agreed. There had been no rational reason for her to go inside. She hadn’t known the gossip reporter, after all, and could provide no help with identification. Her presence would have been superfluous. Possibly distracting. Even so, after spending the past twenty minutes languishing inside the cab…
She was furious with Miles.
“Partners, you said,” she reminded him.
His expression betrayed a flash of bewilderment. “That’s what you wanted to say to me?”
“No,” she replied coolly. “It’s what I’m saying to you now.”
Miles tossed his hat onto the seat beside him. He loosened his tie. “You’re not upset that I prevented you from coming inside?”
“I’m not upset. I’m—”
“A mortuary is a dreadful place, Nell. The bodies are…” His forehead creased. “It’s not a fit sight for ladies.”
The carriage wheels rattled over the road as the horses rejoined the midmorning traffic on the busy thoroughfare. Miles had directed his coachman to take them to the Royces’ house in Sloane Street. Effie and her husband were supposed to have returned from Paris earlier this morning. Had things progressed normally, Nell would have been arriving alone to stay with them for a short visit, rather than calling on them in the company of her new husband.
