Page 21 of A Tainted Heart Bleeds
Adrian stuck out his hand and Kendrick gave it a solid shake. “Didn’t expect to see you here today, Mr. Croft.”
Kendrick’s gaze slid toward Orendel, the look he gave him reprimanding. The earl must have spoken to Kendrick since asking for Adrian’s help. It would have been good if he’d warned the chief constable, made sure he knew what to expect.
“Croft has kindly offered his expertise on my daughter’s case,” Orendel explained. “I’d like him to take a look at the body that’s been discovered this morning.”
“I’ve got to say, that’s highly irregular.” Kendrick’s tone brooked no nonsense. He crossed his arms in a solid stance. “Mr. Croft is a civilian. He ought not get involved in this matter. Rest assured, Bow Street can manage.”
“As well as it did with regard to Mr. Clive Newton?” Orendel asked. “He was allowed to kill five women before he decided to off himself. After you failed to catch him.”
“Mr. Clive Newton got the best of us.” Kendrick glanced at Adrian, who couldn’t quite help but respect him for admitting as much. “I’ve no intention of letting that happen again, which is why I’ve put more men on this case. We’ll spare no resource when it comes to finding your daughter’s killer.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Orendel held his ground. “If you’d please step out of the way now so we may proceed?”
Kendrick sighed. “I’m trying to restrict the area to as few people as possible for the sake of preventing contamination of the crime scene.”
“Perhaps I should have a word with the chief magistrate,” Orendel said. “I’m sure he’ll agree with my point of view.”
Annoyance flickered in Kendrick’s eyes but he finally yielded. “Very well. Mr. Croft, I’ll show you what’s been discovered, but you’re not to touch anything. And mind your step.”
“Will do,” Adrian murmured. He followed Kendrick toward the structure that stood on the edge of the Thames. Four stone pillars with empty windows on either side supported an arched pediment.
Kendrick gestured for his associates, who were busy sketching and taking notes, to move aside so he and Adrian could get a good look at the victim.
The man – no more than five and twenty years old in Adrian’s estimation – was sprawled across the water gate’s stone floor. He’d been a handsome fellow with golden hair and bright blue eyes, a solid jawline, elegant nose, and full lips. Strongly built, he looked like the sort who would have sent many female hearts fluttering with but a glance.
A bloodied mark marred his forehead where he’d been shot.
Adrian studied him for a second, committing every detail to memory before asking Kendrick, “How do we know he’s connected to Lady Eleanor’s case?”
“Orendel didn’t tell you?” Adrian glanced at the chief constable then, spotting the disbelief on his face. “That man there is Mr. Rodney Jones, a footman in Orendel’s employ.”
Interesting.
Arms crossed, Adrian let that information settle before he asked, “Do you suppose he might have known who the killer was?”
“Possibly, though one can’t help but wonder why he didn’t tell anyone if that were the case.”
An excellent point. “The two deaths might be unrelated.”
“I think you’ll agree that’s unlikely.”
“Hmm…” Choosing to keep his thoughts on that private, Adrian pulled a pencil from his pocket and dropped to a crouch.
“Hey. What are you… Stop that.”
Ignoring the good chief constable, Adrian probedthe wound with his pencil, pushing it in until it was able to stand on its own. He propped an elbow on his thigh and glanced up at Kendrick. “Judging from the angle at which he was shot, I’d say the deed was done from a superior vantage point.”
“From a carriage perhaps?”
“Not the worst guess in the world.” Adrian retrieved his pencil, wiped it clean on a handkerchief, pocketed the items, and stood. “Thank you for your time, Chief Constable. I’ll let you get on with your investigation.”
“That’s it?”
Kendrick’s question chased Adrian back to the carriage. He raised his hand and sent him a wave while continuing on his way. To Orendel, he said, “I’d like to take a look at Mr. Jones’s quarters.”
A modest space with room for two beds and a single nightstand between them greeted Adrian twenty minutes later. By comparison, his servants lived like kings.
He stepped forward. “Where did Mr. Jones sleep?”
