Chapter Thirty-Six

I nspector Liam Ashton

I stared around the familiar office filled with fellow inspectors seated at their desks, and felt lost. Moran continued to trouble my mind, yet every time I imagined never seeing him again, panic set in.

“Inspector Ashton, Detective Chief Inspector Stark wants to see you in his office,” the clerk told me.

Of course he did. Pushing back my chair, I hit my knee painfully on the desk. With a low curse, I followed him to the office. I had been expecting a summons all morning. Stark and I hadn’t spoken since Moran was arrested. Any minute now I expected my own imminent arrest. If he looked into my situation, he would know how involved I was with Moran. I just prayed he didn’t guess everything.

Stark sat at his desk and turned his head to look at me. Brow deeply furrowed, he looked exhausted. “Ashton.”

“You wished to see me?” In the short time I’d known him, I had felt a connection. Our minds worked alike, but I was uncertain of his beliefs and there was still the matter of his past to contend with. He was also my superior and could have me thrown into jail with a wave of his hand.

In many ways, he wasn’t much different from the aristocracy. Power flowed down not up and if I could do my heart’s desire I would quit the force and work full time in Moran’s shop, editing books and immersing myself in the publishing world. Alas, my fate had been decided the second my father and his father joined the Metropolitan Police Force, cementing my future.

“Please have a seat. I have details on the Anderson murder that I need to share with you.” He rubbed at his tired eyes, his jaw shadowed with stubble. I’d never seen him quite in this condition before, he always seemed so assured.

My temper sparked at his declaration. It was my case, and he had no right to be investigating behind my back. Except, he had every right because he was the detective chief inspector, and my supervisor. I simply nodded, waiting for him to continue. I wouldn’t give him any ammunition to discipline me in any way. Perhaps the evidence to put Moran in jail wasn’t strong enough to implicate me. I had no doubt that Moran would put his full influence behind getting me out of jail, but the humiliation to my family would never disappear.

“I recently went to Paris on a hunch. I know it’s unusual and I should have told you because you are the lead on this case, however this is personal for me.” His voice broke, grimness tightening his jaw. Whatever he found had been upsetting. “I went to see the French ambassador and spoke to Miss Gordon.”

My stomach clenched at the mention of Suzette’s name. She was in Paris with her lover, Alberto. Well, not truly her lover. She played his hostess and took the occasional lover on a whim. I liked to think I was more than a whim, but she had left, so perhaps not. “Did you indeed?”

“This is the hard part of what I must say, and I will have your word that you will say nothing to anyone. This has to stay between us until my hunch can be corroborated.” He rocked back and forth in his chair, clearly agitated. I recognized the folder he tapped his finger on as the file I kept on the Anderson murder. “I looked through the evidence you’ve gathered and the witness testimonies. If you recall, we spoke to a woman who saw Franny right before she died, and she mentioned seeing her at a party. Something else in your file made me take a second look.”

I sat forward, interest making my heart pound even harder. This was the part of the job that made it worthwhile. Finding the miscreants and bringing them to justice. “And what was that?”

“The guest list included a curious mix of people you wouldn’t necessarily see at a party that was—for lack of a better word—hosted by a courtesan who’d invited other courtesans to mingle with the male guests. I was able to get a list of events hosted by Miss Gordon on behalf of the French ambassador, and one name stood out because of something I know from my personal life.”

I scooted my chair closer to his desk and pulled the file toward me. For months I had lived and breathed this case, but the leads had gone cold and new leads were few and far between. When I was promoted to inspector, my father warned me that I couldn’t solve every case. His advice was to do my best to close a case but not to let it consume me. Once I met Suzette, my affections for her had helped me deal with the stress of a job I no longer liked. Coupled with my falling out with Moran, I had difficulty concentrating on anything except my heartache. “Did I miss something?”

I would never forgive myself if I had.

“You didn’t miss anything because you don’t have the same experiences I’ve had.” He pulled out a photograph that had been taken at the death scene.

The pictures still turned my stomach. “I know I’m new to being an inspector but I got the job because of my instincts.”

“I am sorry. I should have said more experience with the individual who committed the crime.” Stark laid out all three photographs, his outrage palpable. “The victim was strangled with a silk rope and beaten with a whip. If you look closely, do you see something other than whip marks?”

I lifted the closest photograph, one I had looked at a hundred times. There was blood and flayed skin, each gruesome stroke must have been excruciating. The coroner had cleaned away the blood after the photograph was taken. “No, I don’t see anything.”

Stark turned the photograph upside down and tapped the center. “There are lash marks on her lower back but three lines appear too thin to be caused by a whip.”

The marks he indicated seemed to leap out at me. “It looks like a crude A, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, put there to speak of her mortal sin. As a child, The Scarlet Letter by the American author Nathaniel Hawthorne was my mother’s favorite book. Given my grandfather’s propensity for fanaticism, she hid it from him. When he found it in her room, he carved an A into her wrist so that she would never forget that she’d gone against his wishes.

“You think your grandfather did this?” Never in a lifetime would I have suspected Brown as the killer. I had known he was on the guest list but never gave it a second thought. Others attended Suzette’s parties who were high up in the British government, as well as men like Moreland.

“Yes, I think he did it. It all makes sense when you look at the grand picture. Although the main character, Hester, is redeemed, Brown related to the beginning of the book.” He exhaled a long, drawn out breath. “Brown is a very sick man without compunction. He will remove anyone in his way while pursuing his goal to rid society of corruption.”

“When he himself is corrupt?” The conversation between us hadn’t gone as I suspected it would. The fact that Moran’s nemesis was the killer still had me shaking my head in disbelief.

“Moran tells me that Brown is responsible for his arrest.” I had to know if I was under investigation as well. From what Stark shared with me, he still trusted me, which was a positive.

The smile came back into play. “Moran guessed it right away. He is a smart man, that Moran. He also worried that you might be charged with guilt by association. However, I assure you that isn’t the case. As far as I am concerned, the charges were brought on by prejudice.”

My shoulders relaxed and I pushed the photographs away. “When do you plan on arresting Brown?”

The scowl returned and he shut the folder. “I need permission from the Chief Superintendent before I can move forward.”

“He might refuse, because it’s my understanding from Miss Gordon, that the CS also attended the parties and was friendly with Brown.

“I’m friends with the new Duke of Moreland, I’m sure he could use his influence to make the arrest happen.” I couldn’t believe I’d actually dropped Moran’s new title and said it with pride. Because frankly, I was always proud of him. Stark was right, he was a smart man, sharp and kind. He was the antithesis of what I thought the aristocracy stood for.

“It pains me to say it but we might need to go that route. I have tried my best to be transparent, but old habits are hard to break for some.” Stark opened his top drawer and pulled out a flask. Popping off the lid, he took a sip before handing it to me.

“It pains me to say you are probably right.” I took a long pull of the brandy before returning it to him. My father had warned me that bureaucracy could be tedious, even more reason for me to leave the force. I wanted to work side by side with Moran and Birdie and do something I enjoyed. “I know this must be hard on you.”

“I was never close to Brown. He is a horrible man full of hate and vitriol.” He stared down at the silver flask, brow furrowed in consternation. “I am also sure that this won’t be easy, no matter if I have the support from the CS.”

“Indeed.” Silence passed between us for a long moment.

“It is young men like you who will hopefully change the department.” He drank from the flask once more before offering it to me.

“Thank you, no.” I shook my head and put up a staying hand. The words I had wanted to say for a while now but had suppressed were ready to come out. I wanted to be with Moran, not stuck chasing men with malice in their hearts. “I don’t say this lightly, but I am afraid I have decided to tender my resignation effective the end of the week. That should give me enough time to summarize my cases and hand them off to another inspector.”

Stark sat upright in his seat, eyes widening in surprise. “Do your reasons for leaving have anything to do with what we just discussed?”

“No and yes.” I tugged at my beard, trying to formulate my response in a way he would understand. “I joined the department because my family expected it. I know I am good at it, but just because I am competent doesn’t mean I should continue. I have other passions I would rather follow.”

“Not everyone is cut out for the position.” Stark pulled the file toward him and straightened the papers inside, a very Birdie thing to do.

“I am beginning to see that.” A burden was lifted off my shoulders, and I was restless to leave and seek out Moran. I owed him an apology for my actions.

A sharp knock sounded before the clerk opened the door without waiting for entry. “Detective Chief Inspector, we are getting reports of a large disturbance involving the Duke of Moreland and Reverend Brown. Apparently traffic is at a standstill and people are getting worked up.”

“Bloody hell.” Stark shot to his feet. “Gather every man available to go to the scene.”

I rushed after him, shaking my head at the turn of events. I wouldn’t put it past Moran to pummel Brown, he had a mean right hook. What had caused the ruckus was still up in the air. I had a good idea why. Perhaps I should resign today and join in the fray.

My sense of duty said not to. But if necessary, nothing would stop me from getting in a few good punches.