Page 40 of Murder in Blackfriars

“A policeman’s lot is never easy,” I said in sympathy. “I would welcome your help, Tess.”

Tess returned to the potatoes with enthusiasm.

I was well aware that I’d need to pay Tess something for her time and trouble. I hoped Hannah’s optimism for the market stall proved true, and I could make enough to buy all the supplies and pay Tess without wiping away my savings.

But those were considerations to think about later. For now, I continued helping Tess prepare, pleased to see her smiling and excited.

* * *

On Friday morning, when I sent Tess to the market, I gave her an extra list of supplies for the stall and a coin purse of shillings to pay for them. These were basic things she knew how to choose—flour, salt, arrowroot, sugar, and other pantry goods. She’d learned from me how to make certain the flour sacks weren’t filled out with powdered plaster, the sugar with sand.

When it came time to select the fruit, meats, and vegetables, I’d pick them out personally. Tess had learned much, but I wanted to make certain I obtained the best possible.

I gave Tess Joanna’s address to have the grocer deliver the things to and included a note for Joanna as to where to store each item and how. I imagined Joanna’s exasperated amusement when she read my instructions.

While I prepared for the coming week’s main meals and another tea Mrs. Bywater had decided to give her friends, Tess nipped to the market and back. She presented me with the receipts for what she’d obtained for me, proud of her work.

On Saturday, I purchased the fruits and meats when I went out to procure produce for the weekend, sending my purchases on to Joanna’s again. The grocer had run out of the damsons I’d bought from him before but said he might have more Monday morning. I bade him send me word at the Mount Street house when he did.

I’d have to find another place to bake once Joanna and family departed for Basingstoke, I reflected as I trudged home again. I had a few ideas about that and hoped it would not come to too much more expense.

Saturday afternoon, I sent up the platters for the tea—Mrs. Bywater had been so enamored of what I’d done the week before that she insisted I repeat the offerings. I turned from the dumbwaiter once the treats had been cranked up to the dining room to find Daniel in the kitchen.

I tried to hide how pleased I was to see him, and I’m certain I failed miserably.

“What news?” I asked as he set down the bushel of potatoes I’d ordered for the following week. “Did Mr. Thanos agree to help?”

We spoke in low voices, mindful of Elsie peeking in from the scullery and the footmen arguing in the servants’ hall.

“He leapt at the chance,” Daniel said. “He declared he could prepare his lectures and search the archives at the same time.What a nice, quiet place to work, Somerset House, he said.”

We both smiled. I imagined Mr. Thanos with his spectacles sliding from his nose while he eagerly perused ledgers and made notes, likely smearing the whole proceedings with ink.

“Lady Cynthia could help him,” I said. “She was roped into tea with her aunt today, but I can send her when he goes back.”

Perhaps, in the middle of a quiet reading room, the two might grow closer. It was my fond wish—though, like Daniel and me, they’d have little to live on if they rushed into wedlock.

“I’ve been staying away from Bethnal Green, fear not,” Daniel said before I could task him with this very thing. “I’ve been focusing on Banks. Who he was, why anyone would kill him for wanting to speak to me, or for any other reason. I did manage to persuade the landlady to let me into his rooms, but they told me nothing. Do you have the medal you found?”

“Upstairs.” I’d tucked it away to keep it safe. “Do you want me to fetch it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I—”

He broke off, and I felt an icy presence behind us.

Mr. Davis had halted in the kitchen doorway and now gave Daniel a stare worthy of a basilisk. I recalled that monster from Grace’s childhood picture books, and Mr. Davis might have stood for a model. The fury in his eyes at the moment was matched only by his coldness.

“Mr. Davis.” Daniel greeted him with his usual congeniality. “Glad you are here. May I speak to you a moment?”

“I hardly have the time,” Mr. Davis returned, his entire body stiff with butler’s hauteur. I was surprised he’d answered Daniel at all.

“This will not take long. Please.” Daniel’s voice held a hint of steel, one that made hardened criminals flinch from him.

Mr. Davis gazed at him for a time, ignoring me completely, then gave him a minute nod.

Daniel gestured for Mr. Davis to lead on. Mr. Davis beganto step into the servants’ hall, even with the footmen’s continued presence, but Daniel more or less steered him down the corridor toward the butler’s pantry.

Both Tess and I craned from the kitchen door to watch them go. Daniel firmly closed the door behind them, shutting them into Mr. Davis’s room.