Chapter 9

As children,after coming to live with our great-aunt, we often wakened to a new adventure. It seemed that she was determined to make up for our mother's death, our father's preference for gambling over raising his daughters, and then his untimely death.

It was quite common to waken and find some special event had been arranged that inevitably took us away from our tutors and daily lessons. I had wholeheartedly embraced such truancy, while Linnie had worried that we might somehow miss something important in our education.

There was the occasion when our great-aunt arranged for our own private zoo, with animals brought to Sussex Square and allowed to roam about the grounds much to the fear of the servants, although it had not included any predatory beasts.

Never at a loss for imagination we had wakened one morning on another occasion to find a circus in the gardens behind the manor, complete with performers, elephants, horses, camels, and a dancing bear.

It is possible that my aunt's somewhat different approach to her newfound parenthood accounted for my fascination for adventure, and then travel to some of the places where those various creatures had come from.

I listened to an unusual sound, my eyes still closed. Possibly a dream.

However, the sound persisted, then fading only to return quite loud. I opened both eyes, the awareness of where I was slowly returning.

I glanced at the bed beside me. I was decidedly alone and threw back the covers, then swung my feet to the floor and dressed in clothes I had worn before I went off to Charing Cross the night before.

The other details of the night before returned as I splashed water on my face and brushed my hair. I then went in search of my great-aunt, Munro, and coffee. Not in that order.

Coffee came first. I had followed the smell of it rather than wait for one of the servants to bring it up to the room, as I knew my aunt would have requested. I didn't have time for that.

In the kitchens, I was directed to the gardens behind the manor as Cook set a new pot to brew.

"You need only follow the clouds of steam," she informed me.

Steam? And that sound.

Oh dear. As I was saying, one might expect anything.

The gardens of Sussex Square were considered on a par with those at St. James's Park and Kensington. They wrapped around the manor within those stone walls and rolled out to the private forest that held many adventures for my sister and me as children. And they contained flowers, shrubs, and trees of every variety imaginable, brought by other Montgomery ancestors from the far corners of the empire.

The sound that had wakened me grew louder as I reached the back entrance and then stepped out onto the flagstone veranda. And there were clouds of steam puffing into the cold morning air at the far side of the gardens nearest the forest.

As the clouds of steam momentarily cleared, I caught sight of my aunt seated atop a motor carriage as she circumnavigated the pony cart path.

"Good heavens!" I exclaimed.

There was a single comment from the man beside me. "Aye."

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday, and the place has been in chaos ever since," Munro replied. "Ye might want to stand to the side where it's safe. She missed a turn earlier."

Oh dear.

"How did she come by the thing?" I then asked as I watched her weaving somewhat unsteadily along the cart path in the distance.

"She made an investment with a German fellow she met at the embassy. A man by the name of Benz. He's been working on the contraptions for a good many years, and had the bloody thing shipped over so that she might see what her money was invested in."

I watched as the ‘contraption' putted along quite efficiently around the track, except for a handful of minor corrections on the part of the operator, and discovered there were two persons in the motor carriage. Lily was seated beside my aunt.

"I'm prepared to rescue them if there's a stramash," he continued.

That was an interesting choice of words, I thought, as my aunt had rounded the back of the track and gradually made their way back toward the manor. A Scottish word that I had learned might mean anything from a street fight to some other sort of chaos.

"Ye were out and about last night," he said. "Ye have seen him then."

I nodded. "We came upon some information that might be helpful in finding who killed Ellie Sutton. And he's going to speak with the man he worked with before the murder at the gentlemen's club."

"Morrissey."

"You know him?"

He nodded. "Know of."

I waited for more and was forced to ask the obvious question. Munro was much like Brodie in that he shared only as much as necessary. Never let it be said that either man would talk you to death.

"You didn't like him?" I presumed.

Munro stared off as my aunt gradually approached the manor.

"He was...careful," he eventually replied.

I thought his reply was somewhat careful. Perhaps more than he wanted to say? I wanted to know more.

"In what way?"

"He looked to himself first. Others afterward. Particularly when there was compensation in it."

Compensation?

"Do you mean that he took bribes from people?"

"He lived well enough, and still does, if ye get me meanin'."

I glanced over at Munro, that blue gaze sharp as it met mine.

"He took money for favors?"

Bribes were not unusual, I had learned from Brodie. The MET had been plagued with rumors of it over the years. Money slipped from one hand to another, to simply look the other way over a contraband cargo that reached the port of London. Someone of importance who paid to keep an affair secret. An incriminating report that conveniently disappeared to avoid charges.

Had that somehow affected the investigation into Stephen Matthews' murder? Someone paid to simply look the other way? Or was it something else?

"Was Brodie aware?"

"Aye, and he was always watching his back."

"Did he think that Morrissey might know something that he wasn't sharing about the murder that night?"

"As I said, Morrissey was careful."

Brodie hoped to question a man who had secrets, perhaps secrets that might cost him more than he was ever paid?

"Ye need to be most careful, in this," Munro cautioned then. "Desperate men will do desperate things."

I felt that gaze watching me.

"What will ye do next?"

"I want to speak with the man at the Times who wrote the article for the dailies about that murder ten years ago, Theodolphus Burke. There might be something that I can learn there."

He made that sound I had heard Brodie make hundreds of times, that might have been acknowledgement or disapproval. It seemed to be something Scots were prone to. I thought it might be disapproval of my aunt at the helm of the motor carriage.

"Is there danger?" I then asked as the contraption chugged toward us.

He didn't answer, which I realized was an answer in itself, and very likely not about the motor carriage, as he went down the steps as Lily and my aunt arrived with a lurch and a belch of steam—from the invention, not my aunt.

"What do you think of my new motor carriage?" my aunt greeted me. "It is most exhilarating. Mr. Munro calls it the beast." She giggled.

Aside from the fact that all manner of persons and animals might be endangered from said beast?

Point of fact, Rupert, who was no stranger to all manner of conveyances on the streets of London, had appeared from the forest beyond and circled warily as the equipage spat another cloud of steam like a dragon, and then shuddered.

I was not a stranger to motor carriages, or automobiles, as the Americans called them, courtesy of my friend Templeton's tours. She always returned with news of this or that which was popular among the colonials, as some still referred to them.

And there had been speculation that before too many more years, such things would replace coaches and carriages altogether, not to mention horse-drawn trams.

It did seem as if Herr Benz might have a successful invention, as my aunt stepped down from the motor carriage with assistance from Munro.

"Ain't it grand!" Lily exclaimed excitedly as she bounded around from the other side. "I drove it earlier."

Both of them wore goggles, leather caps, and gloves that extended the length of their arms. While my aunt was dressed in the latest riding costume in a shade of deep purple that she was quite fond of, Lily was dressed in a split skirt and jacket.

My aunt smiled at me from behind the goggles which were a bit too large as Munro assisted her out of the beast. They made her look like a bug.

"I had Madame make the driving costume for me," she announced. "She has suggested that I might need a coat worn over when taking the thing out about London. There is so much debris and mud."

The ‘beast' seemed to be an appropriate description as the motor carriage shuddered again like a dying creature, and then went completely silent.

"Some lessons are in order, perhaps?" I suggested to my aunt as delicately as possible out of concern over what I had just witnessed.

She waved off the suggestion. "It's not at all complicated. You flip a lever here, another one there, and a battery ignites an electric charge that starts the motor, according to Herr Benz's instructions. And then you're off! You simply aim it where you want to go."

That was the part that concerned me—aiming it through the streets of London.

"It's not like you to be a Nervous Nellie," she added. Something I had never considered myself to be.

"I'm just concerned for your safety." I thought it best not to point out that she was almost eighty-six years old…

"You needn't worry, dear. If anything should happen all the arrangements have been made for my send-off."

Her ‘send-off,' much like the one I had planned, was a glorious Viking funeral complete with a sailboat that was an exact replica of those ancient sailing crafts, sent out in a blaze of glory.

"I do have the stone slab in the family crypt," she continued, "if there should be any question of my existence."

I had seen it as a child, installed years before by her father, Lord Montgomery, just prior to his death. He had not been of the Viking persuasion for such things.

The slab noted her full name and title, along with the date of her birth to make things official, she had explained.

There was what I considered a peculiar engraving in the slab—"Do not look for me, for I am not here!"

It did, of course, reference that Viking send-off that she intended.

"It will be up to you and your sister, along with Mr. Brodie, of course, to see the rest of it taken care of," she added pragmatically. "I certainly do not want someone prying the slab open and inspecting my bones some years hence. It is so very rude."

Of course. We'd had the conversation previously, and I had promised to fulfill her wishes. Although I was of the opinion that she might outlive me.

She was off, giving instructions right and left. First order was to see that the Benz mobile was sufficiently prepared for her next foray. She intended to take it out on the streets.

I thought an out-rider might be called for, someone astride to go ahead and make way through the usual traffic. I made a mental note to speak with Munro about it before I left to speak with Mr. Burke at the Times.

Lily had removed her goggles.

"Have ye ridden in a motor carriage before? It's almost as fast as Mr. Hamby's team," she added of my aunt's driver and the team of matched bays that usually transported her about London.

"Her ladyship says we need to know how to handle one before we leave on safari," she commented as we returned to the manor.

I had no idea how that was related to their plans for safari. I was almost afraid to ask. I had visions of my aunt attempting to run down a water buffalo or perhaps a giraffe. Almost as terrifying as imagining her atop a camel, the means by which I had traversed that wild plain.

"Are ye working a new inquiry case?" Lily asked, pulling me back from my terrifying musings.

"I'm making some inquiries regarding a woman who was found dead." I chose that description rather than…

"A new murder case? Will Mr. Brodie be joining you?"

So much for attempting to gloss over things, or avoid them altogether. After our previous inquiry case, I had insisted that she focus on her lessons, which I hoped might provide her a good beginning in life, rather than the position of a maid in a brothel.

"How are you coming along with your studies?" I asked, moving the conversation in a different direction as we climbed the stairs toward the bedrooms on the second floor. I saw the face she made.

"Mr. Clark says my reading is much improved," she replied of the fifth or possibly sixth tutor we had retained for her. I had lost count. The previous ones had each lasted a very short time.

"I've started one of yer books," she added quite excited. "Miss Lenore says that those adventures are from yer travels. Have ye really done all those things?"

Oh dear, I did need to have a conversation with my sister about divulging too much to Lily about those adventures, most particularly the one that took me to the Greek Islands.

"I had to sneak it from her ladyship's library, but Miss Lenore is hardly here, wot with keepin' company with Mr. Warren," she continued. "Wot is the inquiry case yer investigating?" she then asked as we reached the guest room.

She was most curious and observant, and had contributed valuable skill in a previous investigation. Still, I had already seen the lengths that some persons—namely the Chief Inspector—were willing to go in our present case.

I refused to expose her or anyone else to the man's almost insane obsession to prove Brodie was somehow involved in Ellie Sutton's murder.

"A young woman was found dead and I am assisting in trying to find those responsible," I explained.

"How do you go about finding who killed her?"

I explained that it required tracking down those who had contact with her and speaking with them, if they could be found.

I didn't go into the details of the murder that Ellie Sutton had witnessed ten years earlier, as I only had the information from that older newspaper article. I was hopeful that Mr. Burke might be able to tell me more.

"What about Mr. Brodie? Is he out following clues as well?" she then asked.

I simply nodded but didn't explain. However, quick minds…

"Is there some danger? Is that the reason yer here? And Mrs. Ryan as well? She refused to say anything."

As I was saying…

"There is repair work being done to the office…" I didn't go into further explanation on that and didn't explain about the further incident at the town house.

"Wot is this?" Lily asked with her usual sharp-eyed observation as she stood at the writing desk. "A locomotive?"

It was the toy I had retrieved from Ellie Sutton's flat. At the time, I had a thought that it might tell us something. I needed to call on Mr. Brimley in that regard. I had added that to my list as well.

"It belongs to a person involved in our current inquiry case. I need to see someone who may be able to tell me something about it."

"And this?" she held up the piece of dark blue wool that I had taken from my bag. "It looks the same as the police uniforms."

I could have explained that it was merely something that Rupert had picked up. Still, there was that old saying about one lie needing another and then another, until one was caught up by them. And I reminded myself that Lily was indeed very intelligent and clever, and thought how I would feel if our positions were reversed.

The answer, of course, was that I would have pestered until I had the answer.

"It's from a police constable's uniform," I finally replied. I saw the way her brows drew together, another question forming.

"And it might be important to the case?"

"Perhaps."

"Mr. Clark says the same thing when he doesn't want to explain something to me because he thinks I canna understand."

My aunt insisted that I take breakfast with her and Lily, and then further insisted that I have her driver take me to my meeting. She would take the motor carriage if she needed to venture out into London.

And she was off to continue practicing her ‘driving skills,' even though I had explained to her that a safari caravan did not require driving machines since there were no paved roads as in London.

"One can never be too prepared," she cheerfully replied.

I cautioned Mr. Symons to not let her go out alone in the motor carriage. He reminded me that he had been with her for over thirty years and had not yet had to send anyone to rescue her.

When I pointed out that thirty years ago, she was not eighty-six years old, he simply reminded me that she had proven herself quite resourceful.

"Much as yourself, miss."

Conversation ended.

If I was a religious person, I would have uttered a prayer on her behalf. As I was not, I said nothing more. I merely wrapped several biscuits in a napkin for the hound, placed my notebook and pen in my bag, and prepared to leave.

Lily made a face when I explained where I was going and whom I was hoping to meet with.

"His mother must not have liked him. Who would name a child Theodolphus?"

I was of the same opinion.

"I need to return these to her ladyship," Lily said then of the goggles. "She misplaced the other pair earlier. She might need them."

A butler announced that my great-aunt's driver had pulled round to the front entrance as I arrived at the entrance hall. Rupert had re-appeared from the general direction of the kitchens, his muzzle covered with cake crumbs. I saw Mrs. Ryan's hand in this.

He reeked of some overpowering perfume fragrance that reminded me think of the brothel in Edinburgh. That could explain his sheepish demeanor, head down, refusing to look at me.

"Mrs. Hastings did make a comment earlier that she refused to have him in the place smelling like...I believe she described it as a piss-pot," Mr. Symons explained. "Beggin' your pardon, miss."

I wasn't certain which was worse, Rupert's usual aroma, which I had become accustomed to, somewhat. Or his new scent.

My aunt's driver, Mr. Hastings, opened the coach door. I climbed inside, Rupert behind me as if escaping an inferno, and we were off.

No sooner had we departed than Mr. Hastings unexpectedly drew the team to a lurching halt. The coach door was pulled open and Lily climbed inside.

"I thought ye might need help," she explained with a grin, then called up to him to proceed.