Page 12 of Murder in Blackfriars

Upper Thames Street was no less busy than before. Drivers and porters hurried about their tasks in an effort to be finished before their one o’clock meal.

Daniel looked up and down the road, frowning, while I pulled my coat closer against the wind. I also studied the passersby, searching for a man who matched how Daniel had described Mr. Banks.

I’d fixed my gaze on a tall man with a trim beard touched with gray when I became aware that Daniel had moved. Iswung around to see him striding purposefully westward, as though something had caught his attention. I abandoned the bearded man, who moved briskly past the Friar and Hound without looking at it, and trotted after Daniel.

Blackfriars Bridge and its railway counterpart loomed over the end of the road, a black giant against the cloudy sky. A train clattered across the Thames, heading north, wheels on iron rails loud in the cold air. Behind us, church clocks tolled the half hour. Eleven thirty.

Daniel abruptly turned down one of the narrow lanes that led to the river. I followed him between warehouses that rose sharply on either side of us, overshadowing the street.

Puddle Dock lay at the end of this lane, if I remembered aright. I always did my best to avoid the area, which wasn’t safe for anyone on their own, so I wasn’t certain. A barge lay moored at whatever dock it was, men trundling goods from it into wagons.

Before we reached the activity at the dock, Daniel turned into a debris-choked passageway that ran between two warehouses. He halted so suddenly I almost ran into him.

Between us and the rear wall of another warehouse was Mr. Grimes. He rose from bending over what I first thought was a bundle of cloth on the ground.

Abruptly, I realized it was a figure stretched there, stiff and motionless. He was a bearded man, the coat over his chest caked with blood.

I gasped, and Mr. Grimes glared at us in alarm.

“No,” he said sharply. “Leg it.”

The sound of booted feet rushing toward us had my heart pounding. I knew who was coming—police constables hurrying to find whoever was standing over this dead man.

“Take her out,” Daniel countermanded. “Go.”

Mr. Grimes gazed at him stubbornly for a moment, then he nodded and charged at me.

I bleated a protest, but Mr. Grimes put his very strong hand under my arm and half pushed, half carried me away. We ducked behind another wall an instant before a half dozen constables streamed into the alleyway and surrounded Daniel and the dead body.

4

I struggled furiously with Mr. Grimes, but he was immovable. “Turn me loose,” I hissed.

“I won’t. If you run back there, you’ll be nicked with him.”

“Daniel didn’t do this. They won’t arrest him.”

I tried once again to release myself from his grip, but Mr. Grimes hung on more relentlessly than a barnacle.

“They will,” Mr. Grimes said grimly. “They’re doing it now.”

I managed to peek around the corner. Three of the constables were indeed leading Daniel away; all the while he spoke earnestly with them. I could not see whether his hands were cuffed, but he was tightly surrounded.

Two constables remained behind, gazing at the corpse and the scene around them, one making notes in a little book.

“Let us run after them,” I begged Mr. Grimes. “We both know Daniel didn’t kill that man. Tell them.”

Mr. Grimes shook his head. “I’m a known villain, ain’t I? One you found over Banks’s dead body. Best I keep hidden, and youas well. Our Danny can talk sense into the magistrate. Probably will turn out to be mates with whoever they drag him before.”

He was likely right—Daniel had worked closely with Scotland Yard for years and had sent criminals to the magistrates himself.

But that had been before Daniel had declared he wanted nothing more to do with the branch of the Yard he’d been assigned to. He’d given up any power his position had afforded him.

Still, Inspector McGregor would never believe Daniel had anything to do with this crime. Would he?

Mr. Grimes was also correct that he’d risk being blamed for the murder himself if he intervened. He’d brought Mr. Banks to Daniel’s attention in the first place, and we’d come upon him standing over him, when no one else was near. I also noted that Mr. Grimes had blood smeared on his coat, probably that of Mr. Banks.

“Very well, let us leave this place,” I said softly.