Page 115 of Not a Fine Gentleman

Chapter 34

Over the next few days, Connor questioned everyone who lived or did business near the Finches’ home. He visited all his street contacts, offering outrageous sums of money for information on the Finches’ whereabouts or even the direction they’d traveled, but no one knew anything. They’d vanished.

He headed back to Bow Street like a kicked dog and met with Birnie and the other constables. During the meeting, Birnie studied him as if he hoped to dismantle him with his gaze, but Connor kept his frustration gathered around him like a suit of armor to protect the sorry state of his heart.

“Who’s been making inquiries at the docks?” Birnie asked the lawmen crowded into his office.

“I did,” a lead constable said. “No one with their names or descriptions purchased tickets for departing vessels.”

“Highways?” asked Birnie.

The leader of the highway patrol spoke up. “We questioned toll operators on all of the main highways leading out of the London area, but no one remembers them.”

Birnie glared at all assembled. “Ideas.”

“Maybe Finch bribed anyone who saw them to be silent,” someone said.

“Or had them killed,” added another.

From where he leaned against the wall, Connor offered, “The Finches might be hunkering down here in town, waiting for a chance to leave when we’re less aggressively looking for them.”

Birnie’s voice hardened. “He murdered four people, one of them a marquis, and attempted to murder a marchioness—multiple times. I want this killer. So does the crown.”

Connor wanted that killer as well, but for much more personal reasons.

“Keep your eyes open,” Birnie said. “Dismissed.”

The group dispersed, but when Connor pushed off the wall, Birnie called to him. “Jackson.”

Connor halted and moved back to the center of the room.

He waited until everyone left. “Close the door. Sit.”

Connor obeyed. “You have a new case for me?”

“The last few days you’ve been acting like a rabid dog, snarling and snapping at everyone.”

Connor pulled his invisible armor closer around him. “My apologies.”

“What’s chewing you up inside?”

It wasn’t just chewing him up—it was destroying him bite by bite. Soon there might be nothing left unless he battled his way out of the hungry maw.

“Out with it,” Birnie commanded.

Connor grasped at any plausible excuse and landed on one that bothered him enough to be believable. “I was on my way to arrest Finch when I spotted a mob in front of the Covent Garden Theatre.”

“Yes, I heard. Lady Hennessy.”

“If I’d let another constable deal with the mob, I might have reached Finch in time to arrest him.”

Birnie nodded. “You might have. You might not have. Was there another constable in view by the theatre?”

“No, but I didn’t really look.”

“Did you know the cause of the commotion or whom they were attacking?”

“No, I just followed my instincts.”