Page 59 of A Dangerous Vision

“Is it a common scent?”

“Perhaps, but it seems far too coincidental.”

He made a grumbling, noncommittal sound. “I dislike coincidences.”

“As do I.” Electra studied the room, its gilded moldings, the lovely clouds and Cupid mural on the ceiling. A four-post bed dominated the room with a tiny table beside it. The only other furnishings were a small escritoire, a wardrobe on the far wall, and a cheval mirror in one corner of the room.

Gideon opened the drawers of the desk, and Electra glimpsed nothing but blank sheets of paper inside with a few writing implements on top. Everything was neat.

On the bedside table, Electra spotted a book and lifted its cover with her gloved fingertip. Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott. There was no inscription or writing inside the book’s flyleaf or title page.

She slid out a small drawer in the bedside table and found it contained a tin of pasties, a half-burnt candle, some lucifers, and below all of that was an object Gideon needed to see.

“What is it?” he asked, having observed her as she reviewed the drawer’s contents.

She pointed, and he took a step closer.

Gideon lifted the handkerchief from the drawer, running his thumb over the two Ps embroidered into the fabric.

“I'll be taking this,” he said quietly.

“That belongs to Mrs. Devlin.” Mrs. Earnsley had somehow approached without either of them hearing her footfalls. She stood on the room’s threshold.

“It's significant to my investigation, and at the end of it, I will return the kerchief to Mrs. Devlin.” Gideon spoke in a tone that seemed to mollify the housekeeper. “You may note it down if you like, and when Mrs. Devlin returns, you can let her know that I took it.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the two spoke, Electra opened the wardrobe door. It was filled with gowns and hats hanging on pegs. She had seemingly left everything behind.

“Did anyone visit Mrs. Devlin while she lodged at Regent Square?” Gideon asked.

“On occasion, sir. Though she spent most of her time reading or writing letters. She also enjoyed working in the back garden.”

The housekeeper made it seem almost idyllic, as if the purpose of the house itself wasn’t to aid gentlemen in finding a lady to install as a paramour.

“Mr. Percival Pennington. You are familiar with him, are you not?” Gideon asked.

“As a visitor to the evening salons, yes, Inspector.”

“And did he never visit Mrs. Devlin here?”

Mrs. Earnsley opened her mouth and then closed it again, showing the same kind of hesitation Miss Mahoney had during their visit to Charlotte Street.

“He was particularly fond of Mrs. Devlin. She was a favorite of his, yes.”

“So, he visited her here?”

“On occasion, Inspector.”

“And Mr. Lance Pennington?”

“He was a particular favorite of hers. They were very…amiable to each other.”

“Which did she prefer?” Electra couldn’t help but asking.

The older woman blushed fiercely. “Oh, I couldn't say, miss. She would never tell me such a thing. It is none of my concern.”

Gideon looked from Electra to the housekeeper. “You had no sense of it from observing them?”