“Agreed. But juries don’t like to see the police tamper with evidence. If that has happened here, and if it can be proved-” Savidge smiled maliciously around his cigar. “You present an interesting case, Sheridan. I don’t see how I can refuse.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “But there is the little matter of the fee. Amalgamated is taking care of Gould, but what of the others?”

“I’m good for it.” Charles rose. “You will be hearing from Morley. If we are agreed, then I must be off. I have one or two other matters to look into today, but I’ll see what can be done about getting a look at that evidence.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Good afternoon, Richards,” Kate said, as the startled Sibley House butler opened the heavy door that led into the entrance foyer. She turned to the cabbie who had brought up her bags and put several coins into his hand. “Thank you,” she said, and went inside with the same shiver of melancholy and shadowy foreboding that she usually felt when she entered the grim old house, even on the brightest of days.

“Good afternoon, m’lady,” Richards said stiffly, taking her coat. He paused and added, in a tone of subtle rebuke, “I’m afraid his lordship failed to mention that you would be coming up to town.”

Kate took the bull by the horns. “I know it will be an enormous bother to Mrs. Hall to prepare dinner for the both of us,” she said. “Present my apologies, please.” Of course, dinner for two was no more bother than dinner for one, but the cook liked to pretend that it was, and Kate always played along with the game.

Richards sniffed. “Perhaps his lordship did not inform you. Canon Rawnsley is joining him for dinner here tonight.”

Kate ignored the sniff and the delicate jibe. “How delightful,” she said. She glanced in the mirror, patted her hair, and added, “I’ll have tea, please. In the library.”

“Of course, madam,” Richards said, with another sniff, and went off to give Mrs. Hall the unwelcome news that her ladyship had come, unannounced, and that there would be three to dinner.

Kate did not enjoy London, and she did not like the house in Grosvenor Square. It was a mausoleum, chilly and uninviting, with large, overdecorated rooms, echoing passageways, and scarcely a scrap of garden. Worse, its staff had been selected and trained by Charles’s deceased mother, the Dowager Baroness Somersworth, and it was impossible to change their habits or attitudes. And to compound Kate’s discomfort, it was here that she and Charles had been staying when she lost the baby, which had only added to her aversion to the place. She came as infrequently as she could.

But today’s trip to London had been unavoidable. When Kate learned that Charlotte had left Bishop’s Keep, she had first thought of sending telegrams to Charles and Nellie, to let them know that the young woman had probably returned to London. But she had discarded that plan and decided to come up to town herself, on the train.

Now, going into the library (one of the few agreeable rooms in the house), Kate poked up the fire in the grate, then sat down at the writing desk and jotted a quick note to Nellie. She put it into an envelope, addressed and sealed it, and when Richards came in with the tea tray-a silver pot, a pair of cups, and a plate of tea cakes-she gave it to him.

“Please ask Tommy to take this around to the Royal Strand and deliver it personally to Miss Lovelace,” she said. “If she is not there, he is to wait until she arrives. I have asked her to return an answer.”

“Yes, madam,” Richards replied. The sniff was titanic. Richards did not approve of theatrical people.

Kate glanced at the clock on the ornate mantlepiece. It was nearly five-thirty. “Did his lordship say what time he planned to return this evening?”

“No, madam,” Richards said, “only that he expected Canon Rawnsley at eight.” He bowed slightly and left the room with her note, holding it at arm’s length.

Kate had just poured herself a cup of tea and settled down in front of the fire with The Times and one of Mrs. Hall’s excellent apricot tea cakes, when Charles came into the room.

“Kate!” he exclaimed, coming over to drop a kiss on her hair. “I had no idea you were coming up to town today. Why-”

“Because Miss Conway- Charlotte -has run away,” Kate said. She put down the newspaper. “Sometime during the night, according to Mrs. Bryan. She didn’t appear at breakfast this morning.”

“Blast,” Charles said softly. “She’s come back to town, I suppose.”

“To help her comrades, perhaps,” Kate said. “I was going to send Nellie a telegram and thought better of it.” She poured Charles’s tea and handed him the cup. “It’s important that we find Miss Conway, Charles. If the police get to her first…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

“You’ve let Nellie know that the girl has disappeared?”

Kate nodded. “I’ve sent Tommy round with a note, and asked for a reply. I’m hoping that she knows Mrs. Conway’s address. I should like to go there and see her.” She regarded Charles thoughtfully. “Were you able to see Adam Gould and the others?”

“And Morley, as well.” Charles sat in the wing chair on the other side of the fireplace, putting his cup on the mahogany table beside the chair. “He agreed to handing the case to Savidge.” He gave her a wry smile. “And Savidge is delighted to take it, with the hope of becoming the first to win an acquittal through fingerprint evidence.” He picked up his cup, settling back. “I also called round to the Yard to have a look at those so-called bombs that Special Branch claims to have found in the men’s rooms.”

“Oh?” Kate asked with interest. From the tone of Charles’s voice, she judged that he had not been impressed by what he saw. “And what did you discover?”

“That the ‘bombs’ are stoneware bottles which contain traces of a substance purported to be nitric acid. He paused. “Savidge and I will go back tomorrow, for a closer examination. Meanwhile, I have sent a note to Edward Henry at the Yard, asking him to see to it personally that the evidence is protected from handling. At the moment, it’s sitting on the shelf.”

“You’d think that the police would do a better job of preserving evidence,” Kate said warmly, “especially when so much depends upon it.”

Charles’s laugh was ironic. “The proper handling of evidence is not something the ordinary policeman thinks much about, I’m afraid-not, at least, at the moment. If Harry Jackson’s left thumb convicts him of burglary next month, things will change. In the meantime-” He shrugged. “We’ll see what can be discovered tomorrow, when Savidge and I study the fingerprints on those bottles.”

“You’ve certainly covered a great deal of territory since this morning,” Kate said.

“I did something else, too,” Charles replied. “I took a cab to Telson Street, where Yuri Messenko lived. Number 17, upper floor rear.” He grimaced. “A sad little room, with only a bed and a chair. The boy kept his clothes in a paste-board box under the bed. The landlady had already let the room and was anxious for someone to take the box away, so I’ve brought it with me. I’ll go through his things later tonight.” He glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Did Richards tell you that Hardwicke Rawnsley is coming to dinner tonight?”