Page 29 of The Notorious Lady

“Gentlemen,” Ford said dryly.

“Long time no see,” St. John said with a light smirk. The last time they saw each other, Ford and St. John had worked together to save Blake’s wife from the members of the Brotherhood. That was when his suspicions of St. John’s secret identity were solidified.

Blake stood and offered Ford a hand. “Glad to see you. Please, sit.”

He offered him a glass of whisky, and a moment later, all three of them sat around the desk, tumblers in their hands.

“Tell us, what brought you here?” Blake asked.

Ford shifted his eyes from his friend to St. John and back again. “Actually, the matter I wanted to discuss with you is delicate.”

St. John immediately rose to his feet. “Say no more. I shall enjoy a bit of fresh air.”

“I mean no offense—” Ford started, but St. John raised a staying hand.

“None taken, I assure you.” With a nod to Blake, he turned and walked away.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Blake lifted his eyebrow.

“I know you trust him with your life—”

“I have a reason to.”

“Right. But I don’t. And the matter I came to discuss… Let’s just say I suspect your friend has a stake in it.”

Blake frowned and leaned forward, eager to know more.

“What do you know about the recent murders of aristocrats?”

“Not much,” Blake said with a shrug. “Just what I’ve read in the papers.”

“I’ve been investigating and my efforts led me to a couple of suspects, one of whom goes by the name Erebus. Does that tell you anything?”

Blake pursed his lips. He never was a good liar. Technically, he hadn’t even lied yet, but he was contemplating it.

After a brief tussle with himself in his mind, Blake decided to tell the truth or a part of it. “I know of him.” He paused. “And I know people who are close to him.”

Interesting choice of words. “Do you think he is the murderer?”

Blake squirmed in his seat. “No. Can I ask you why you think he is the murderer?”

Ford let out a deep breath. Could he trust Blake with the entire truth? Could St. John be waiting behind the closed door listening to his every word?

“I came across a logbook for The House of Pain and Pleasure for the day the last man was murdered there.” There. That was vague and precise enough. Blake needn’t know that Madame Tricheuse was helping him. God only knew if she’d be in danger if anyone found out. Not that anyone would know where to find her, but Ford couldn’t risk it.

She was a feisty woman, that harlot. And she, no doubt, could protect herself if the need arose. Ford only hoped that need never did arise.

“Erebus was one of the suspicious names on the list.”

“One of?”

“Yes.” Ford nodded. “The second name is Porter. I have it on good authority that he was in the watching chamber alone. So, he had the time to slip away, commit murder, and disappear into the night.”

Blake drummed his fingers against the desk. “What do you want me to do?”

Ford hesitated for a moment before pulling out the papers. “I know the story, Blake. Erebus is supposed to be a powerful aristocrat. And even if the name was forged, there is a high chance the forger is also an aristocrat.” He extended the paper toward him. “I want to see if you recognize the penmanship.”

A scoff left Blake’s lungs. “You must mistake me for a spy, Ford, or a forger. I do not possess such a talent for discerning different handwriting.”