Heart of Courage (26 page)

Michael sighed. He set his empty punch cup down on a rosewood table along the wall next to a bust of the queen. “I can tell you that we think we know how the women were murdered. At first we believed the killer had strangled them with his hands, that he was likely wearing gloves at the time. But the bruised area on the neck was wide and there were no separate finger markings. We've come to the conclusion that perhaps the killer used a scarf. That would account for the width and evenness of the bruising.”

“A scarf?”

“It would seem likely.”

“And again there was no…ravishment of the victim's person?”

“No. We believe he derives his pleasure from the act of the murder itself.”

Inwardly she shivered. “Do you think he picks his targets randomly or does he have a particular woman in mind?”

“I'm not sure.” He turned her, caught her bare shoulders in his hands. “I know you love your brother and I wish I could spare you this, but the truth is, the police are convinced Rudolph Graham is the killer. They're assembling the evidence they need to prove it. I am just hoping that when this is all over, you will be able to consider my role in the investigation separate from my feelings for you.”

And then he bent his head and kissed her.

Lindsey stiffened, but only for a moment. She had kissed Michael before and the warm pressure of his lips felt familiar and not unpleasant. But there was no stirring inside her, no hot need pouring through her. She tried not to think of Thor but he was there as if he stood beside her.

Michael ended the kiss, which didn't last long, since he didn't wish to stir up gossip. “There is little we can do to further our relationship until this is over. But I will be thinking of you, Lindsey. I hope you will be thinking of me.”

Lindsey managed to smile. At the moment, all she could think of was that soon the police would be coming to arrest her brother. From what Michael had said, this time they must have found some sort of evidence they believed would prove Rudy guilty. She thought about mentioning Stephen and his possible involvement, but she hadn't the slightest proof—and she wasn't completely sure herself. She needed to find the killer.

And she needed to discover who might have reason to want her brother to take the blame for a crime he didn't commit.

 

“It went fairly well, don't you think?” Krista stood near a potted palm, looking up at Thor. “At least you convinced her to dance with you.” The crowd had begun to thin as the evening began to wane.

Thor shook his head. “I do not think she will ever forgive me.”

“In time, she will. She loves you. All you have to do is remind her how much.”

Thor thought of the last time he and Lindsey had made love. He had used the skills he had learned at the Red Door to give her the greatest of pleasure. In doing so, he had gained great pleasure for himself.

“She let him kiss her. I saw them in the gallery.”

“She doesn't love Michael Harvey, she loves you. After what you said to her, she is confused.”

Thor looked back to where Lindsey stood with her brother and her family near the front of the ballroom. The police lieutenant was gone. He supposed that was something. He wondered what would happen if he asked her to dance again.

Krista caught his arm. “You can't give up, Thor—not yet.”

His features hardened. “I will not give up. I was a fool before. Lindsey is mine and I mean to claim her.”

Krista's shoulders relaxed and she smiled. “Of course you do.” She flicked a glance at her husband, so like his younger brother, then looked back at Thor. “She belongs to you—of course you mean to claim her. I can't imagine what I was thinking.”

L
indsey paced back and forth across the floor of Krista's office, the full skirt of her gray wool gown swishing around her ankles. She stopped and looked back. “I've got to go back to the Red Door.”

“What?”

“I don't know why I didn't think of it before. The night we spoke to Simon Beale, Stephen's valet, he said Stephen has been known to frequent houses of ill repute. He even mentioned the Red Door. I need to go back there, see if any of the women remember him, find out if they know something that might tell us if he is a murderer.”

“You can't go to a…a house of pleasure, Lindsey. And certainly not by yourself.”

“I know, I know.” She walked over to Krista's desk. “Perhaps Leif would be willing to take me.”

“Leif is out of town.” Krista's pale eyebrows drew down pensively. “But I think you are right about going.” She sighed. “Leif is going to be furious, but it cannot be helped. I am going with you. We'll go tonight.”

“Oh, Krista, you are the best!” Lindsey leaned over and hugged her. “I shall bring the orange satin dress. Returning it will give us an excuse to be there.”

“We had best go early. The later it gets, the more dangerous the area becomes.”

“So what time do you think?”

“I'll bring my carriage round at eight. That should be late enough for the place to be open and early enough that we won't run into trouble.”

“Perfect.” Lindsey left Krista's office and went back to her desk. Thor was working at the docks today and Lindsey told herself she was glad. She didn't want to see him, no matter that he had tried to make amends. No matter that now he was willing to marry her.

Still, she couldn't get him out of her head. Sweet God, why had he changed his mind?

She wished she knew the answer, but she certainly wasn't going to ask him. She still felt humiliated every time she remembered the hard look on his face when he had reminded her that she wasn't an innocent and now that he'd had her, he was no longer interested.

An ache throbbed beneath her breastbone. It was too late to go back to the way things were, too late to take back the hateful words.

She left the office a little early, taking her carriage instead of walking. Once she reached the house, she went straight up to her room, declining supper and asking that a tray be sent up later. Wearing her simple gray wool gown, she prowled nervously till the clock struck eight. Her parents had gone out for the evening so there would be no problem leaving the house. She packed the gaudy orange dress in an old hat box and as soon as the clock began to chime the hour, hurried downstairs.

“Shall I fetch your cloak, miss?” the butler asked.

“Yes, the black wool, if you please.”

She accepted the plain woolen wrap he draped round her shoulders. “Thank you, Benders.” Then she stepped back so he could open the door.

As promised, Krista's carriage waited out in front. The coachman helped her climb into the dark interior. Lindsey squeaked in surprise as she sat down across from Krista and found herself perched on the hard thighs of a man's lap.

Thor's arms closed around her waist. “I like you sitting there, sweetheart. I have missed you.”

Apparently he had. Her cheeks heated as she felt his maleness hardening beneath her skirt. “Damn you, Thor, let me go!” As the carriage lurched forward, she broke free, turned and plopped down on the seat next to Krista.

She cast her friend a glare for her treachery, though it was too dark inside for Krista to see. “What is
he
doing here?”

“Thor stopped by the house looking for Leif. I was just leaving. He asked me where I was going and I could hardly lie to him.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Why not? He's gotten very good at it himself.”

Thor just grunted.

Lindsey sat up straighter on the seat. “I've changed my mind. Please take me home. I shall go to the Red Door another night.”

In the light of a passing street lamp, she saw Thor lean forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I will wait outside if you wish. But you are on your way now and you were right in deciding to go. Mayhap…
perhaps
one of the women will know something about Lord Merrick that will help your brother.”

She clamped down on her urge to escape. Thor was right. There was no time to lose. Even now the police might be on their way to arrest Rudy. “Fine, I shall go.”

“Thor is good to have along when you are going somewhere like this,” Krista added.

“Oh, he makes the perfect bodyguard,” Lindsey said tartly. “As long as the body he is guarding is not mine.”

Thor crossed his arms over his massive chest. “We will see,” he muttered darkly.

It occurred to her that his repentant attitude had already disappeared. The old Thor had returned, a domineering, demanding male, taking care of her whether she wanted him to or not.

Sweet God, why did she find the notion so appealing?

Lindsey stiffened her spine, trying not to bump her legs against his, trying not to feel his gaze burning into her through the darkness, knowing she could not possibly, yet certain that she did.

They rode mostly in silence, the driver doing a masterful job of weaving the conveyance through the traffic in the busy cobbled streets. Eventually, he turned into a quiet lane in Covent Garden and pulled up in front of the Red Door. Thor jumped down from inside the carriage, reached up and swung Lindsey then Krista to the ground.

“We'll be all right,” Krista told him. “We won't be long.”

“No more than a quarter hour,” he commanded. “Then I come in and get you.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes at his high-handedness. And yet it felt good to know Thor was out there in case they needed him. They made their way up the steps to the big brick house with the front door painted red. Krista knocked, knocked again, and the door swung open.

Lindsey plastered on a smile for the brawny man who stood in the opening. “Good evening. We'd like to speak to Madame Fortier, if you please. We have something of hers that we are returning.” She held up the hat box and smiled as if being there were an everyday occurrence.

The doorman stepped back, allowing Lindsey and Krista to walk inside. “Who should I say is here?”

Lindsey looked at Krista, then back to the brawny man. “Friends of Thor Draugr.”

The doorman nodded and walked away. In the background, Lindsey could hear a pianoforte being played, accompanied by the soft strings of a harp. Men's voices came from another room, along with the high-pitched laughter of women.

“Interesting place,” Krista said, taking in the ornate surroundings, the gilded mirrors, crystal lamps and red-flocked paper on the walls.

“Isn't it? Perhaps women should have a place like this to escape to whenever they feel the need.”

Krista's blue eyes widened.

“I am jesting…though as I think on it, it is not such a bad idea.”

Krista laughed.

Madame Fortier returned, hips swaying, moving her saffron silk skirts. The bodice of the gown was extremely low-cut, perfectly displaying the swells of her voluptuous breasts. When she recognized Lindsey as the woman who had been there with Thor, her dark eyebrows arched up.

“I am surprised to see you again,” she said in her fake but accomplished French accent. She glanced around, looking for Thor.

“Thor isn't here at the moment.” Lindsey handed over the hatbox. “This is the orange gown I borrowed. I've been meaning to return it.”

Madame eyed her with suspicion. “You came 'ere at this 'our to return a gown that 'as already been paid for?”

“That and another reason.”

“And what reason would that be?”

“My friend and I have been trying to find the man they call the Covent Garden Murderer.”

Madame made the sign of the cross.
“Mon Dieu.”

“We need to ask you some questions about a man we believe may be one of your clients. His name is Stephen Camden.”

“I do not give out information about my clients.”

“We understand that. But this is different. Women are being murdered right here in your neighborhood. Three of them have died so far. We have reason to believe Lord Merrick might be involved.”

Madame cast a glance toward the salons where her ladies were entertaining. “You will please follow me.” The skirts of her gown swayed with each of her steps as she led them into her private quarters and closed the door.

Her accent mostly faded. “Lord Merrick hasn't been here for some time.”

“I see.”

“He was asked to leave.”

“Why was that?” Lindsey asked.

“He was cruel to some of my girls. He mistreated them, even beat them. There are men who gain pleasure from such things, but Merrick went to extremes. The girls were frightened of him. In the end, I told him he was no longer welcome.”

Krista spoke up just then. “Is there one of your ladies who might tell us about him? Perhaps she might know something that could be useful.”

Madame seemed hesitant, then she sighed. “I will let you speak to Silky. She used to be his favorite.” The buxom woman disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a redhead Lindsey recognized from when she had been there before.

“Ziss is Silky Jameson,” Madame said, her accent returning. “She will tell you what she can.”

Silky was beautiful, with big blue eyes and the kind of body men imagined in their dreams. Her gaze assessed both Lindsey and Krista. “So it takes two of you to please him. I am not surprised.”

Embarrassed heat burned into Lindsey's cheeks. She started to tell the redhead that neither of them were Thor's women—at least she wasn't anymore—but considering she had used his name to get in, she swallowed her pride and simply smiled.

“We need to know what you can tell us about Stephen Camden. We have reason to believe the viscount may be involved in the Covent Garden murders.”

Silky made a sound of disgust. “
Merrick.
He paid me well, but he was one of those men who could only get satisfaction by being cruel. He liked to tie me up and then he would whip me with a little buggy whip. At first, it was mostly just play, but then he got more and more brutal. He wasn't happy unless he made me cry. I used to hide when I saw him coming. Finally, Madame asked him not to return.”

Lindsey flicked a glance at Krista, both of them thinking the same thing. “He tied you up?”

Silky nodded. “He tied me to the bedposts. He used these long pink scarves he always brought with him.” She tossed her head, flipping her long red hair over one shoulder. “Like I said, at first I didn't mind. He wasn't the only man who liked to play rough. But Merrick was different. The more he hurt me, the more he enjoyed it.” Her russet eyebrows drew together. “And there was another odd thing.”

“What was that?”

“A couple of times, he called me Tilly. He used to say, ‘It's your turn now, Tilly. How do you like it?' I think he was punishing her and not me.”

“
Tilly.
Did he ever say her last name?”

“No. It only happened once or twice, as I recall.”

“Thank you, Silky,” Lindsey said. “We appreciate your honesty.”

She shrugged her shoulders, left bare in the low-cut gown. “Women are dying. Someone needs to stop it.”

“Perhaps what you've told us will help,” Krista said.

Lindsey left the Red Door bursting with excitement. They had gained what might be valuable information, as well as a lead to follow. The trip had truly been worth it.

Then she spotted Thor standing next to the carriage, his long legs braced apart, his gaze hot and possessive, and Lindsey wasn't so sure.

 

The following morning, Rudy was arrested. Constable Bertram came to the house with three other policemen and took him away in manacles.

Lindsey's mother was nearly hysterical. “Do something, William! You can't just let them come in here and take our son!”

“You mustn't overset yourself, my dear. This is just some dreadful mistake.” He accepted the greatcoat Benders handed him. “I am off to see Jonas Marvin. He will know what to do. We will have our son home by the end of the day.”

But as Lindsey watched him leave, she knew it wasn't going to be that easy. From what Michael Harvey had said, the police had enough evidence to find her brother guilty of murder.

Michael!

She would go to Michael, make him tell her what the police had discovered. Michael would have the answers she needed.

Ignoring the noisy weeping in the drawing room, Lindsey retrieved her cloak and raced out the door, leaving so fast she forgot her bonnet. There wasn't time to ready her carriage and have it brought round. At the cab stand on the corner, she spotted a hansom and climbed onto the worn leather seat. “Police headquarters, if you please.”