Chapter 14

Fourteen

I put a telephone call through to the office on the Strand, however there was no answer.

I frowned. It was then after six o'clock in the morning. It appeared that whatever Brodie had been pursuing, he had not yet returned.

At the more reasonable hour of eight o'clock, I had dressed, placed everything into my travel bag, and called for a driver.

On the ride to the office on the Strand, I kept thinking about my visit with Sir James, and the comments he had made about those in positions of power. For a man of his rumored wealth that seemed unusual. And then there had been his comment about Brodie— a common man as he had called him.

In consideration of the early hour, before the usual daily traffic on the street set in, I arrived at the office in good time.

I paid the driver then crossed the Strand to the sidewalk below the office. When I would have gone to the stairs, Mr. Cavendish appeared quite suddenly in front of me and blocked my path.

"Is Mr. Brodie in?" I asked.

"He came back a while ago. Wait, miss!"

I was more than a little surprised as he tried to stop me.

"Thank you," I replied and stepped around him.

There was immediately the sound of the bell that rang furiously at the top landing, used to announce an arrival. I did wonder what that was about as I gathered my skirt and ran up the stairs.

I was met by Brodie, as he stepped out of the office and blocked my going any further. However, not before I caught a glimpse inside.

A man was seated on a chair in the middle of the room and Mr. Conner was standing over him. The man in the chair was quite bruised and bloodied.

"Now, let's start over ," I heard Mr. Conner say. "And ye will give me the information I want this time…"

Then Brodie closed the door.

"What is that about?" I asked.

Brodie's response was to seize me by the arm and turn me back toward the stairs. The expression on his face was like stone.

"The man has information that may be useful regarding Soropkin," he replied.

The method of questioning him seemed a bit extreme, perhaps even brutal, I thought.

"I have some information as well. I'm certain that I have found the event for the eighteenth December indicated in that message…"

"Aye." He proceeded to escort me back down the stairs.

"I thought you might want to know…" Once more I was cut off.

"It could be important," I did manage to say as I attempted to free my arm.

"I understand."

I hardly thought so.

"I need you to go to the Public House and wait there," he then told me.

"What is it?" I demanded. "What has happened?"

"I will explain when I meet ye there." And for emphasis he added, "I'll not argue the matter with ye, Mikaela."

I was not accustomed to this from him. If it was anyone else, I would have simply told them to stuff it as my friend Templeton was known to say, and then would have done as I pleased.

However…

"I'll be waiting," I frostily replied. I could always tell him to "stuff it" later.

I ordered coffee at the Public House and waited.

It was very near a full hour before Brodie finally appeared. I had seriously considered leaving, but there was that nagging little voice inside my head. I was curious about that scene at the office.

Miss Effie brought a second cup and fresh coffee.

"Mornin', Mr. Brodie," she greeted him. "Out and about early?"

He nodded and thanked her, then looked across the table at me.

"Before ye get yer temper up, there are reasons I sent ye away."

"Before?" I pointedly replied.

He ignored that. "It was not the place for ye to be at the time."

When I would have said something more, he shook his head.

There was something in his manner and the expression on his face. He obviously had little sleep the night before. That little voice cautioned that I at least listen to what he had to say.

"I had word from Sir Avery regarding additional information they received by way of telegram after we met with him," he began, stopped, then continued.

"It seems that yer friend, Sir James Redstone, is very probably involved in the situation."

"Ridiculous!" I replied quite vehemently which drew the attention of others about us.

I then asked with lowered voice. "Based upon what evidence?"

I should have known better. Brodie did not make assumptions or make statements without evidence to back it up. Still, there was a certain attitude ever since he had met Sir James.

Jealousy perhaps? The word was there, but that was hardly something that fit the man that I knew. With other things Brodie was prone to— stubbornness, a strong will, and that bloody Scot temper— jealousy didn't make the list.

"There are those who saw him in Munich as recently as six weeks ago, contrary to the fact that he would have everyone believe that he just returned from Egypt."

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't unusual to have a stop-over after being abroad for an extended period of time. I had done so with a short stay in Paris after returning from Budapest— a visit with an acquaintance of my aunt.

However, there was more.

"The man Mr. Conner was questioning is a middleman. He connects certain people, for a price. He arrived from Munich six weeks ago and secured a substantial space at a warehouse that yer friend at the gymnasium in German Town learned of, to store a large shipment he was expecting. And it seems that Sir James made inquiries at the warehouse."

He referred to Herr Schmidt, a friend who had provided information in the past. And six weeks ago, once more. That seemed to be a common aspect, as far as it went.

"The shipment contained several explosive munitions and weapons."

I knew from previous investigations that such shipments had been discovered in the past.

"There's more." He hesitated. "Mr. Brimley has determined the substance found at Dr. Bennett's private surgery in Aldgate. It was a form of opium."

Perhaps not unusual, I thought. A physician's surgery, bottles of other medicines and tonics, a preventative for pain such as that for young Ethan.

"The residue was somewhat thick from the substance that contained the opium," he went on to explain. "I had noticed something else and had Mr. Brimley return afterward and investigate."

"And?" I asked the obvious question.

"It was a fingerprint."

Again, not surprising in and of itself.

He took a long drink of coffee, thoughtful, then set the cup down.

"Perhaps a valuable piece of information," I commented. "If it can be matched to someone…"

Although we both knew that the results of such things could be disappointing as there was only the most rudimentary of records with the MET. Perhaps the Agency had additional information.

"It matched the print that Mr. Brimley was able to take from Sir James' cup at the Grosvenor after ye met with him."

I couldn't say anything for a moment. Then, "You had me followed? Of all the…!"

"There's more ye should know," he continued. "Redstone was not a guest of the hotel. It appears that he's been staying some other place, some place he didna want others to know about."

"His family home is in London," I informed him. "He has returned to settle the estate. You are not well informed."

I stood abruptly as several other things then came to mind. Telling him to "stuff it" seemed mild by comparison.

He stood as well and reached out, his hand closing around my wrist when I would have simply left him there.

"Ye're smarter than to be angry about this! Think what I've told ye and remember that people are dead because of what is goin' to happen, including Dr. Bennett! And perhaps a good many more if we canna stop this."

Never let it be said that I didn't see what he was talking about, startling as it was. And yet the thought that Sir James was part of something like this… Still…

It wasn't as if I hadn't sensed things and then simply dismissed them. I slowly sat back down.

"You could have told me you were having him followed."

"There was no time, and ye seemed quite taken with the man."

"How did you know that I was meeting Redstone at the Grosvenor?" I then asked, but the answer was there— "Mrs. Ryan."

"Ye told her yerself that ye were going to the Grosvenor. It seems that ye left in a hurry. She found the note on the floor that he sent ye."

And just happened to see his name, I thought.

"It was out of concern for ye when I telephoned the townhouse. Right or wrong, ye mean a great deal to her after the loss of her daughter. I'll not have ye put any blame on her for it."

He was right, of course. Mrs. Ryan was more than my housekeeper, particularly after the loss of Mary in that first inquiry case that also included my sister's disappearance.

Stunning as it was, the evidence was there. Still, I was not over the fact that he had kept it from me.

"What is to be done?" I asked.

"Ye did say that ye have figured out the meaning of those numbers."

I nodded. "The eighteenth day of the twelfth month— December," I replied. "Something is to happen tomorrow, and then I read the announcement in the dailies that the Queen is to dedicate the new war memorial."

"Aye, that supports what we suspected. If Soropkin is part of this, it makes even more sense given past incidents that he's instigated."

It was an attempt, I knew, to ease the tension between us. Like tossing a bone to a dog?

However, not quite enough.

"Has Soropkin been found?"

"No, and that is the worry. He is still out there as well. The man seems to have an uncanny ability to blend in and then disappear."

He assured me that he would contact Sir Avery with the information about a potential target for Soropkin, and possibly bolstering what they already suspected.

He paid for the coffee then escorted me from the Public House.

It seemed that Mr. Conner had concluded his "questioning" of the man I had glimpsed at the office.

"He was well paid, more than I earned even after twenty years with the Met," he commented, as I looked about for some sight of the man, or perhaps a body?

Mr. Conner did seem quite pleased with himself in spite of a bruised fist.

"A thousand pounds paid to him… by Sir James Redstone."

In consideration of what Brodie had told me, it was hardly surprising.

"Wot else was he able to tell ye?" Brodie asked.

"It seems that the job he was paid for has to do with the Queen's dedication of the war memorial tomorrow."

Brodie nodded with a look at me. "Aye, what else?"

"The payment was for the man and his people to arrange to have a barrier in place at a specific location along the route the Queen will be traveling from Buckingham Palace."

A barrier, and then an attack on the Queen? As there had been attacks on members of the ruling monarchs in two other countries?

"I might argue the politics of it," Mr. Conner added. "I still believe that Scotland should be our own country. However, I canna condone the murder of an old woman."

He referred to the fact that Britain was now governed by a constitutional monarchy. The Queen was now more or less a figurehead rather than the ruler of the country, who made suggestions and recommendations to Parliament rather than setting out laws herself with the assistance of her council as in the past.

"Ye have the location the man told ye?" Brodie asked.

Mr. Conner nodded. "I telephoned the Agency and gave the information to Sir Avery's people. They'll see that protections are put in place."

"What about Soropkin?" I asked.

Mr. Conner shook his head. "The man claimed that he only met with Redstone. According to what he told me, he knew nothing about Soropkin." He rubbed his bruised knuckles.

"I believe that he was telling the truth."

"And Redstone?" Brodie asked.

Mr. Conner shook his head. "There's been no word."

Was it possible that Sir James was part of all of this? I thought of everything over the past few days since his return, and things he had said. I had simply brushed it aside. And what of the injury to his hand, that had obviously happened since our travels together? An accident, he had called it. But what sort of accident?

I stood before the blackboard in the office. I still found it difficult to believe that Sir James was involved in a threat against the Queen. It did not seem like the man I had met years before.

He was from a well-titled family. If he was involved in this, it was against everything he'd been born to. Still, as I thought back to the day before at the Grosvenor, the things he said, and his comments about the Queen. There were indications that I had dismissed at the time as nothing more than the usual conversations one might hear at a social gathering or event. Or perhaps chose to ignore.

I thought of Mr. Conner's comment about Scotland, not an uncommon sentiment, particularly among the Scots.

Was it possible that with changes Scotland might one day be independent? And what would that mean?

I had added more notes from the information Mr. Conner and Brodie had obtained.

Buckingham Palace was notified as well. Sir Avery was informed that the Queen was adamant, however, in that stalwart manner that people had come to admire about her. "Getting on with it," as she had been quoted in the past through her own difficulties and losses.

Brodie had also made arrangements to be present the next day where that barrier was to have been placed, along with Mr. Conner and a substantially increased number of the Metropolitan Police, Sir Avery's people, and the Royal Guard.

Hours passed, though it seemed like days, since I had arrived earlier that morning. I caught the scent of food that Mr. Cavendish had undoubtedly brought over from the Public House. However, I had no appetite.

Mr. Conner had left earlier with arrangements made to meet Brodie the next morning. There had been messages delivered by Alex from the Agency as other arrangements were confirmed.

However, there had been no further conversation between Brodie and myself.

I was admittedly hurt, as if he didn't trust that I would see the truth of the information he and Mr. Conner had obtained. Then I had been deliberately excluded from something that involved both the inquiry case about Dr. Bennett's murder and the investigation that Brodie was pursuing.

In the past, there had been a partnership between us, the sharing of information, of speculation and thoughts with the notes that I made at the bloody damned blackboard!

Yet today, I had been shut out from the latest information with that comment that I seemed " quite taken with Sir James." Did he believe that I could not be trusted with the information?

That was perhaps what hurt the most, particularly in consideration of our personal relationship.

After Mr. Conner left, Brodie had encouraged me to make my notes on the board with the new information we now had. However, it seemed gratuitous. Much like a pat on the head for a faithful hound.

"Ye're still angry," Brodie said in a quiet voice.

That didn't begin to describe it, I thought, but didn't say it. I didn't say anything at all but continued to make my notes, as if I had not heard him.

There was something more in all of this, something I was convinced that I would find in my notes if I stared at them long enough— my scratchings on the board as Brodie called them.

Or perhaps it was merely a way to ignore him. Although Angus Brodie was hard to ignore.

"I understand."

The piece of chalk snapped against the board, and my anger with it. I turned on him.

"Do you?" I replied, then vented the anger.

"I thought we had a partnership that included trust, respect, consideration of each other's ideas, and…" There was that other part, of course. "You set it all aside as if none of that mattered."

"Dinnae do this, Mikaela. Now, is not the time."

I ignored the warning. It most certainly was the time.

"Is it all a lie, then?" I continued. "Our work together? It certainly wasn't on my part. Or was it ambition?

"Perhaps something Sir Avery promised you that got in the way even though you don't trust the man?" I added.

"No."

To which question? I thought.

"Then, what the bloody hell is it?" I demanded.

"This is not the proper time with Soropkin still out there. There are too many things at stake."

There most certainly were.

"Proper time?" I replied and made no attempt to disguise the anger. Of all the absurd things he could have said.

"Aye, proper, between the two of us."

"Exactly," I replied. "However, you chose…"

He cut off what I was about to say.

"It was about ye."

That set me back, but only momentarily.

"If this is about protecting me, we've already had that conversation."

Numerous times, as a matter of fact. He rounded the desk and came toward me— or perhaps stalked was a better word.

I refused to be intimidated.

"And you will not use that excuse." I informed him at the same time I considered blackening his other eye.

"Aye, ye have proven that… and I accept it as far as it goes."

Whatever that was supposed to mean.

"However, with what we have now learned, I thought that if ye still had feelin's for the man…"

I stared at him— feelings for Redstone?

There were several things I could have said. I didn't. Instead I pushed my way past him and went to the desk.

I shoved Dr. Bennett's book into my bag, along with the notes he had made for his second book, and those ancient papyrus notes.

"Mikaela…!"

"Yes, of course," I replied with a full measure of cynicism. "That explains everything."

I went to the door, then down the stairs to the street below.

Brodie didn't follow, and I was grateful for that. I didn't want him to follow me. At that moment I didn't want to see him.

I didn't wait for Mr. Cavendish to find a driver, but instead crossed the Strand at a furious pace, then continued down the opposite side to the cross street and waved down a driver.

The townhouse was quiet when I returned.

Mrs. Ryan made a brief appearance. She took one look at me and frowned.

"You've spoken with Mr. Brodie?"

I did not answer, which I suppose was an answer in itself.

She made a sound, one that I would have sworn was very like Brodie's.

"Give me my notice then if you intend to do so, but I'll not apologize," she announced, then returned to the kitchen.

I had no intention of doing so, of course. Brodie was right, at least in that. However, he was still a horse's ass, and I would have told him to his face if he was there.