Murder on Cold Street (Lady Sherlock #5) - Sherry Thomas Page 0,18
for the glue.”
“You have suffered for your friends,” he said softly.
“In your case, I’d say I was also pleasantly rewarded,” she said with a slight smile. “Very pleasantly.”
He ignored the heat that surged through him, although the effort took a moment. “Shall I go find out who is in charge of Inspector Treadles’s case?”
The bell rang. “Probably not necessary for you to make a special trip for it, if that’s Sergeant MacDonald at the door.”
“Let me go out the back door and come back in—so he doesn’t get the wrong impression.”
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “So he doesn’t get the correct impression, you mean?”
“That, too, I suppose.”
She sighed softly. “It would be nice—”
“If he didn’t jump to conclusions?”
“If whatever conclusions he jumps to with regard to my gentlemen friends did not affect his ability to work with me.”
He wasn’t sure he could do that. He, for one, emphatically did not want to judge Mrs. Treadles. But even so, he knew he was already beginning to wonder whether she was as competent and trustworthy as he’d first thought.
All in the absence of solid evidence.
“I’d better hurry,” he said. “We don’t want Sergeant MacDonald to wait too long.”
“You don’t need to go anywhere,” she said.
“I don’t—”
“You’re afraid he’ll wonder what we two might be doing here alone. But you forget: to Sergeant MacDonald we wouldn’t be alone.”
Of course. “Sherlock Holmes” was in the next room.
She touched him briefly on the arm, went down, and returned with their caller. As they climbed up he heard her say, “By the way, Lord Ingram is also here, Sergeant, to discuss Inspector Treadles’s current predicament—Mrs. Treadles wished for his involvement in the matter.”
“I would have wished for the same—this is a time for friends,” said Sergeant MacDonald, as he walked into the room.
He was a young man of about Holmes’s age. When Lord Ingram had met him before, he’d remarked on the sergeant’s relaxed, smiling mien. Today he was not relaxed or smiling, though he was visibly relieved to be among his superior’s supporters.
“I’ll make tea. Would you also care for something stronger in the meanwhile, Sergeant MacDonald?”
“I probably shouldn’t but I will, this time. Thank you, Miss Holmes.”
“It has been a long day for you, I take it,” said Lord Ingram, while Holmes put a kettle to boil on the spirit lamp.
“Unfortunately so, my lord. I don’t know what to make of anything anymore. Rumors are rife within the Yard. I’m petrified to think that the inspector might have done the deeds—and I’m even more petrified that he didn’t but will be condemned as guilty anyway.”
“Do you think the inspector might have done it?” asked Holmes, taking her seat.
Sergeant MacDonald made a rueful face, as he sat down after her. “The only reason I force myself to contemplate it is because the inspector taught me that I should eliminate suspects on evidence, and not because they seem unlikely.
“But no, I really don’t think it could have been him. We are working men, us coppers, but we labor for different reasons. Some of us just want wages on the regular and work that isn’t as grinding as what men do in factories. Some of us fancy it a bit more—I think my work in the Criminal Investigation Department is interesting, when it isn’t too gruesome. But for the inspector—he’s never said it in so many words, but I think for him it’s a calling.
“He really does revere the rule of law, to an extent I find a bit . . .” The sergeant scratched his chin, searching for the right word. “Well, a bit old-fashioned. Laws are made by men, aren’t they? Men aren’t perfect. And even decent laws aren’t enforced uniformly—I see that all the time. But the inspector, even though he’s a tough investigator, has this idealistic, almost romantic view of a just society and all that.”
It was precisely this quality that had drawn Lord Ingram to Inspector Treadles. He was a few years younger than Inspector Treadles, but by the time they’d met, his own romantic vision of life had already become badly eroded. It had been encouraging, almost restorative, to be in the company of a man who dealt with some of the worst elements of society, yet still held on to his ideals.
Not realizing at the time that Inspector Treadles’s ideals also included a number of inflexible views on women.
Holmes passed Sergeant MacDonald a plate of cake and he fell upon it eagerly, consuming a slice before saying, “I imagine the