Page 29 of Secrets in the Dark
The man was watching them as warily as they were watching him.
Mason was glad that Edmund asked flat out, “Trying to pick up a young American woman right out on the street, are you?” he asked.
“I was suggesting that shenotbe out on the street alone.”
“She’s in full view of the pub,” Mason said politely.
The man ignored Mason and turned to Della. “You really know these two? Well?” he asked.
“Yes, quite well, as a matter of fact,” Della said.
The man nodded and turned to face Mason, studying his size and his face. “Then keep an eye on your friend. We’re living in dangerous times and you should know that—the news has been all around the world.”
“Oh, we are looking out for each other,” Mason said. Adding, “That, of course, is why we came right out here when we saw her talking to a strange man. Do you have ID on you?”
“You want my ID?” he asked.
“I do,” Mason said.
“I’ll show you mine, you show me yours,” he said.
“You first,” Mason said. “I asked politely.”
“You did. Sure.”
Trey Harper reached into his pocket. To Mason’s surprise, he produced a badge along with his identification.
His name really was Trey Harper.
He was with the Metropolitan Police.
In turn, Mason produced his identification and Edmund did the same.
Della lowered her head, trying not to smile.
“How do I not know you?” Edmund asked, smiling.
“I was working undercover for the last two years. A drug sting that got wrapped up just a few weeks ago, and since then, I’ve been on holiday. Back just in time to head back out to the streets, plainclothes, watching out for what’s going on,” Trey Harper explained.
“Well, that makes sense. This just all fell into my lap when the vampire murders started up. Good to meet you,” Edmund said.
“And good to see that you’re on the streets,” Mason told him.
“And you?” Trey said, turning to Della.
Della grimaced and produced her badge.
“Leave it to me,” Edmund said. “I’m sorry. I was trying to make sure—”
“Don’t be sorry for trying to save lives,” Della said. “And we’re glad to know that you’re out here—”
“Honestly. We are in force on this, I promise you,” Trey said. He grinned. “Well, all seems quiet enough here. I’ll head on to the next place.” He shrugged and grimaced. “Well, supposedly, Mary Kelly was seen at the Ten Bells before her murder, and she was heard singing an Irish lullaby that night. And whoever he was—after all the other murders—she must have let the killer into her room. Astonishing. That’s why... Well, when I saw Special Agent Hamilton here, I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t running around the streets of Whitechapel alone. Though I take it that our modern-day would-be king of the Rippers might take on far more than he bargained for with Special Agent Hamilton.”
“Well, I hope so, too,” Della said. “But we like to think that we aren’t working alone.”
“Never alone,” Trey Harper said seriously. He pointed into the pub. “I see that Sean Johnstone is in there. Good man. And he’s carefully working with...?”
Della smiled at him. “Jeanne Lapierre, French detective.”
