Some memory was bothering her, too, something her brain couldn’t quite locate, even when she read over all her notes yet again.
The promise she had made to Penelope also left her in something of a quandary. As a matter of course, she did not break her word, but on the other hand, it was common sense to let someone know where you were. Just in case there was an emergency at one end or another. However, her parents would never permit her to go alone to Covent Garden, let alone inspect a drainage tunnel, and she had to go.
From speaking to the residents of Mudd Lane and beyond, she knew it was actually regarded as a relatively safe and quiet environ. Nancy’s murder was, therefore, something of a shock. Griz regarded the danger to her and Penelope as minimal. And she did not expect to be long.
If Dragan would only come, she would tell him, even if she would not let him come. Although, ideally, perhaps he could lurk nearby, just to provide an extra witness to whatever it was Penelope wanted her to see or hear.
But Dragan, infuriatingly, did not come. She thought of sending a note round to his lodgings with the Cordells, though she doubted he would go there if he were still following Gabriel.
Perhaps he would follow Gabriel here, for he occasionally came home with Horace.
He didn’t today. Horace arrived home at six, alone, and shut himself in his study.
Eventually, Griz scribbled a quick note: Mudd Lane with PD. She tapped the feathery end of her pen against her chin, then added: Did you know there’s an old drainage tunnel that opens there? G.
Hastily folding it, she decided not to write his name on it. But she told both the porter and Berry, the butler, that if Mr. Tizsa called, he was to be given it instantly. They each cast her a long-suffering look of reproach that told her they would, as usual, not mention the matter to her parents unless specifically questioned.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully and hurried into the cab she had already sent Peter to summon.
***
Dragan had spent a dull day interspersed with mad moments of activity, following Gabriel to work, to teashops, and one hasty dash by cab across London and back. And finally, home to his rooms in Bury Street.
Since the quickest way to have been noticed was to be in the vicinity all the time, he had begged the assistance of a couple of Hungarian friends to spell him during normal office hours, which let him sit down and eat alone and think too much about Griz and not enough about Gabriel. It was depressing to think that it could take weeks before Gabriel would meet up with Art or commit any other incriminating act. For which he would, in any case, need witnesses. Who would take the word of a foreigner already suspected of murder?
All the same, he did not doubt he could bring Gabriel down physically, with Art’s money in the man’s possession, and from there, surely, the truth would out.
Gabriel did not stay long in his rooms but left again in evening attire. Dragan strolled after him at a safe distance, to the hackney stand, where Dragan gave his cynical driver the instruction to follow the cab in front. He was fairly sure the man insulted him in incomprehensible Cockney, but at least he obeyed.
Gabriel went to his betrothed’s house in Berkley Square and dismissed the cab. Dragan got his to drive him further along the square, where he paid the driver off. If he got a hackney to the Cordells tonight, he thought ruefully, he would have no money to follow Gabriel tomorrow except on foot.
The streetlamps were lit here, so a lurking figure would be quite obvious. He resolved to stroll, wait, and stride briskly by turns, at least until he could be sure Gabriel was staying there for dinner.
However, he was still strolling from his cab toward the Derryns’ house when their front door opened again, and a man in a top hat stepped out, closing the door behind him.
It wasn’t Gabriel. This man was built along slighter lines and moved differently. He sprang down the steps rather than trod with Gabriel’s firm step. Elegant and almost swaggering, the young gentleman paused under the streetlight to put on his gloves. Inevitably, he saw Dragan strolling toward him, but his eyes dropped at once to what he was doing.