What Happens in Piccadilly - Chasity Bowlin Page 0,74
think of the children!”
Miss Darrow rose and walked toward Callie, embracing her. “I cannot. There are many ways to hurt those children… and your absence is one of them. Trust Lord Montgomery to keep you safe and trust that Highcliff and I will do what is necessary here to end this threat once and for all. Please, Callie? Please!”
Chapter Seventeen
H ighcliff stared at the body laid out on bank of the lake in St. James’ Park. He hadn’t known Charles Burney well, but he’d certainly known him well enough to recognize the man. Burney’s skin carried the grayish cast of a person who had been dead for some time, though having been in the water, Highcliff would be hard-pressed to say how long. But given that they hadn’t located Burney or Averston at any of the typical haunts for men of their standing and persuasion, it would require a bit of investigative work to pin down the man’s time of death.
“How did he die?” Highcliff asked.
The man standing beside him, rough-looking and wearing a dark coat, answered in a voice that still held a hint of cockney to it. “Strangled with his own neckcloth, he was.”
“How can you be certain it was his?”
“His is missing… found one discarded in the bushes down by the bridge. Stands to reason if we’ve got a corpse and with no neckcloth and a neckcloth with no owner, they’d likely go together, wouldn’t they?”
Highcliff rolled his eyes. “Ettinger, I’ve been up all bloody night long. How can you be certain the neckcloth was the murder weapon?”
“Wrinkles in the fabric… not an exact science. But I’ve never seen a neckcloth wrinkled in that fashion just from being tied. Looks as if it was wound about a man’s fists.” The Bow Street Runner held his closed fists out in front of him, about ten inches apart. “Not quite sure how a young strapping lad like that was overpowered by just one bloke though.”
“Drink,” Highcliff said. “If I had to guess, I’d say the victim had imbibed quite a bit of brandy or some other potent spirit.” Possibly laced with something else to further incapacitate him.
“You think he was drinking with the one what killed him?” Ettinger asked. “Maybe more than just drinking?”
“I’d say they were intimately acquainted,” Highcliff replied. “But let’s not bandy that about.”
“Just like the others, then?” Ettinger guessed. “Same man. Same untouchable fucking gent who gets away with murder just cause of his title?”
Highcliff rose. “It’ll be the last one. That I can swear to you. But let’s handle this discreetly, Ettinger. This young man has a mother and a sister who are still in society. In fact, the sister had her debut just the night before last. Extravagant affair. Financially, they’ll be ruined by it. But for a moment, she was the bell of the proverbial ball. Now this. Terrible, but not insurmountable. If any hint of the truth about the nature of his relationship with his murderer was to come out—”
“It won’t,” Ettinger stated. “I’ll see to it. But if there’s another one, Lord Highcliff, I don’t much care who asks me to keep my mouth shut. It has to end.”
Highcliff nodded in agreement. Ettinger was a good man with a good heart. He also had hammer-like fists and somewhat flexible methods. Even as a runner, he was often on the wrong side of the law but always for the right reasons. “I can promise you, Ettinger, there are changes coming… changes that the perpetrator of this crime will not be able to halt, nor will he be able to avoid them.”
“Fine. Then I’ll quash any rumors or whispers that might cause trouble,” the runner said. “But I’ll be letting the true powers that be in on all of this.”
The Hound. Ettinger served two masters and had for a very long time. “How long can you keep this up? One day he’ll ask you to do something at cross purposes to your employer’s,” Highcliff stated.
“Ask. He will ask, my lord, and I will refuse. Wouldn’t be the first time. We have an understanding, the Hound and I,” Ettinger said. “And I could ask the same of you… when will you give it all up and just be an idle gentleman as the world believes?”
“When I am as dead as our unfortunate friend here,” Highcliff replied. “Send word to his family… and send someone who will be kind to them, will you?”
“I’ll go myself. It’s on my way,” Ettinger replied.