Fearless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 1): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series (24 page)

She seemed without answer, and as I contemplated my own next words my eyes lifted to the window, catching the sight of a constable across the street.

Inspector Kelly had not forgotten me. Nor my cousin. I smiled.

“I must needs pay a visit to the Station,” I declared.

“The police station?” Wilhelmina queried, also rising to her feet.

“Indeed,” I said with a nod of my head, and then made to move.

I stopped in my tracks and looked back at Wilhelmina.

“Thank you,” I whispered. For so much. For not condemning me. For not holding a grudge. For understanding my desire, my
need
, to see this through. For me. For them. For my father.

And for helping me achieve just that.

“Anna,” she whispered back.

I smiled. “He had help, don’t you see?” I announced. “He had the knowledge to gain that help and the intelligence to use it sparingly. He knew when to switch it off and when to turn it on. He is a master at it. And you, my dearest, have enabled me to see that.”

“I did nothing. Nothing at all,” she insisted.

My chest constricted. My eyes smarted with tears.

“No, sweet Mina. You did everything.”

Twenty-One

Absolutely Not!

Anna

The Auckland Central Police Station was bustling, as was to be expected mid-afternoon, in the throes of discovering a murderer’s identity. A low rumble of distinctly male voices hummed through the vaulted ceilinged room, cupboards banged, doors squeaked, and heavy boots thudded across polished wooden flooring.

The familiar scent of lemon and vinegar filled my nose, welcoming in a way that gripped my heart, closed my throat. Those constables who recognised me nodded their heads, stepping aside to allow me entry, obvious looks of concern across their harried features. There was barely room enough to walk, the entire contingent of officers had been hauled in, no doubt on Superintendent Chalmers’ orders.

I didn’t envy them their tasks. But I was resigned to aid them in any manner that I could.

That was, of course, if they allowed me.

I lifted my head and clutched my reticule closer, then began to make my way towards the front desk. I knew exactly where I needed to go, but getting there without permission would be impossible.

Halfway across the main room, dodging rushing men and carts full of crooked piles of paper, I collided with a figure stepping out of one of the side rooms. His top hat went flying, and his kid gloved hand reached out to catch it, a velvet covered elbow striking the side of my face in his unchecked movement. I staggered, he spun, and in the next instant I was in the arms of Mr Entrican.

“Miss Cassidy,” he announced, rather breathlessly. His eyes trailed over my face, no doubt noting the mark he’d left from his ineffectual attempt at rescuing his flying headgear. A hand slowly rose and stroked softly against my cheek.

The room seemed to spin for a moment. I was unsure whether it was the blow to my head or the nearness of the man. Who held me still in a most inappropriate fashion.

“Mr Entrican,” I managed, trying to withdraw from his clutches without making it seem obvious.

“My apologies,” he murmured. “Can you stand unaided?”

“Of course,” I whispered back, the sounds of the room engulfing us, but somehow not reaching our momentary cocoon.

“You do appear in the most unexpected places,” he announced, straightening his cravat in a movement that seemed natural, even if the grimace on his face said otherwise.

“As do you, sir,” I replied, noticing the looks of intrigue we were receiving from the Chief Constable of the Watch. Davies had known my father well, and by extension myself.

I couldn’t decide if his look was one of disapproval or simple curiosity, though. Either way, it left me uncomfortable.

“Mr Upton is too frail to attend to this matter, so has asked that I take it upon myself to investigate,” Entrican advised, standing to his full height, which made him tower over me.

“The mayor is unwell?” I enquired politely.

“The sooner the elections are over, the sooner he can retire and recuperate,” the deputy mayor announced. “This term has been exhausting for the old chap, and now these murders. No man likes to see his time marked in such dark deeds.”

I nodded my head slowly in understanding, unusually disturbed by the thought of Helen’s death being nothing more than an inconvenience to a length of term served in office. She was more than that, wasn’t she?

“And have you discovered enough on your visit to allay Mr Upton’s fears?” I asked.

“Indeed, the detectives inform me they are no closer to naming a suspect,” he shared. “But I have faith they are onto a good lead.”

“The Militia Guard,” I supplied.

“Why, Miss Cassidy, you are a font of interesting information. How well are you acquainted with the case?”

“Too well, sir,” I murmured, my mind full of images of Helen.

“My dear lady,” he said solicitously, a perfectly covered hand reaching out to touch my upper arm in comfort. “I am sorry for your loss. Perhaps I should have said it sooner. One of the victims was your friend, correct?”

“I knew them all, Mr Entrican,” I admitted. “But the last victim was a like sister to me.”

His face clouded for a moment, then a look of sadness quickly followed. So swiftly it was hard to say if his look of disquiet had been there previously or not.

“My condolences, then, madam.” He bowed slightly, then looked around the room, noting his hat on its side a few feet away. He took the necessary steps required to reach it, dusting it off as he lifted it from the floor. It seemed no worse for wear, but he took his time picking at non-existent dust upon its surface, until finally he deemed the hat wearable again.

He turned back and crossed the small space between us, the hat held in front of him in both hands. The move made his chest puff out - or the man was presenting himself in his best light - and his shoulders seem broader.

“Miss Cassidy,” he began. “I realise this is a most inappropriate moment to enquire, but I find myself unable to leave without divulging my desires.”

“Your desires, sir?” I asked, my eyes taking in the flurry of activity that still mainly shrouded us from view, and the hard look Davies managed to throw my way through all of it.

“Why yes,” Entrican said. “You have crossed my path several times now and I am becoming more and more intrigued.” He cleared his throat, adjusted his cravat, and then asked, “May I call on you?”

“Call on me?” I repeated inanely. I shook my head softly to clear the fugue that had invaded, my darting eyes somehow landing on the inspector’s closed door. I turned my attention back to Entrican purposely, and then offered my most beguiling smile.

“That would be delightful, sir.”

He grinned, genuinely thrilled to have permission to call, and then bowed low again, reaching out with a gloved hand to one of mine and lifting the back to his lips.

“I look forward to it,” he declared and then strode off through the throng of busy policemen, disappearing out through the front doors.

I stood stock still for a moment, cursing my reaction to Kelly’s dismissal all over again. I was not in the slightest interested in the deputy mayor. But I was determined to put Andrew Kelly behind me.

The timing could not have been worse for Entrican’s request.

I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, making my way towards the front desk and a still brooding Chief Constable Davies.

“Miss Cassidy,” Davies greeted gruffly, his grey bristly whiskers twitching with now obvious disapproval. “What are you doing here, lass?”

Ah, so the attention received had not been because of my gentleman attendee, but because of my attendance in the Station where I should not be.

According to Chalmers. And Davies was nothing if not a company man.

“Constable Davies,” I replied with a warm smile. “It has been a while, has it not?”

He nodded, his eyes moving down to the bundle I had placed on the desk in front of him.

“That had better be a lemon tart for the staff, Miss Cassidy,” he announced. “And not some meddlesome information you wish to burden the inspector with.”

My smile faltered slightly. Davies had never been this unwelcoming.

“I’m here to see the superintendent,” I announced, pulling my reticule closer in a defensive move I instantly despised.

“Have you lost your mind, young lady?” he demanded, leaning forward, after a brief look to ascertain we were not going to be overheard, and adding, “Your father taught you better than this.”

“It is my father’s teaching which brings me here, Davies,” I declared with equal urgency.

He harrumphed in grand fashion and then leaned farther across the desk toward me.

“I doubt he’ll see you. Your best bet is to leave whatever you have for the inspector to peruse and present on your behalf to the superintendent.”

“I have no desire to converse with the inspector,” I said abruptly. “And what I have to share is best explained by one qualified to do so.”

He looked sad then. The gruffness disappearing under a mask of compassion.

“Miss Cassidy,” he said on a sigh, his big shoulders drooping. “You have been banned from the Station. Chalmers’ orders.”

I took a step backwards, incomprehension washing from head to toe in such a monumental wave that for a moment I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Could barely stand upright.

“Officially?” I asked, my voice a mere whisper.

He nodded. “He believes you a charlatan,” he admitted, the look on his face saying resolutely he disagreed with his superior. “You, trained by Thomas Cassidy.” He spat to the side of where he stood and shook his head, that sadness engulfing him again. “Unless you are here to report a crime or ask for assistance, as a member of the public is privileged to do, you are to be escorted from the station by the Chief Constable of the Watch forthwith.”

“I see,” I said, unable to think of another reply.

“If you’d care to leave your information with me, I can make sure it reaches Kelly’s eyes.”

Inspector Kelly.

I nodded my head dully and pulled a magazine from within my reticule, placing it on the desk between us.

Davies frowned down at the text and then scratched his unruly beard.

“What’s this then?” he asked.

“A German study into the effects of phenylisopropylamine,” I declared.

“Phenyl… what did you say?”

“It’s a chemical found in the body’s central nervous system said to have astounding stimulant properties.”

“Ah-ha,” Davies said dubiously, stroking his thick beard. “And you wish me to hand this to Inspector Kelly?”

“I wish to present this evidence to the superintendent.”

“This isn’t evidence, Miss Cassidy. This is,” he paused, shook his head. “I don’t know what this is and the superintendent won’t be impressed with it either. Perhaps we could get Drummond on board.”

“Not Drummond,” I rushed to stress.

“Then your best bet is Inspector Kelly. At least he’d hear you out.”

“So I can see him?” I asked, unsure if the fluttering I felt inside my stomach was due to being granted access to anyone in the station at all or just the thought of facing Kelly.

Davies frowned. “Now I didn’t say you could see him here.”

I raised an eyebrow at the man. Just what was he suggesting?

“You know the Old Barracks?”

How could I forget?

“Yes.”

“Head there and I’ll send Kelly after you. Just wait by the Old Barracks Wall gate and he’ll take you from there.”

I looked around the station, a place I’d as soon called home as a little girl. These walls had always seemed so very large and imposing, yet safe and warm and welcoming. A dichotomy that I hadn’t truly comprehended until I’d reached maturity.

It was not a home to me now, no matter how much I yearned for it. The loss of Father’s surgery here had felt acute. But in the far recesses of my mind I’d always assumed I’d find my way back in. At the very least, being in the station itself had made that notion seem possible.

But how was I to claim my rightful place in the police surgery if I was banned from the entire building itself?

“Miss Cassidy?” Davies enquired not unkindly. “You should leave now. If the superintendent sees you here, it won’t go over well.”

For a second I considered storming his office. Making my voice heard. Daring the man to throw me out of what had been until recently a second home.

“Don’t,” Davies warned, his voice gruff with some kind of emotion I couldn’t yet identify. “I
will
do what I have been charged with. Mark my words, Miss Cassidy. You have been banned and I am well aware of my instructions. Don’t make me execute them.”

My father admired this man. They’d been colleagues and friends at one time. His respect for my family was all that was holding Davies back. He’d not made a scene. In fact he’d done everything in his power to avoid one. Right down to allowing me to leave under my own steam.