Page 32 of Across Space and Time

“What else do you sell besides pastries?” Depesh asked, motioning to the bottles and tarot cards.

Prudence giggled softly. “My parents are quite the believers in the mystical. My mother believes crystals and potions can solve most of life’s problems. She reads the cards for women who come into the shop sometimes too.”

Hugh didn’t want to get too sidetracked from the reason they were here. “Tell me, Miss Wilcox. Do you use gold paper to wrap any of your pastries?”

Prudence stared at him in surprise. “Gold paper?” Hugh nodded. Prudence frowned thoughtfully. “Not that I know of, sir. We use the usual brown paper. My mother does like to do paper folding, and I know she has some gold paper upstairs. But we don’t use it down here in the bakery.”

“What sorts of clients do you usually have?” Depesh asked, looking around the shop again.

Prudence shrugged. “All kinds, sir.”

“Would you know if one of them is Viscount Emeril Jardin? Perhaps his boy, Robbie, or his housekeeper, Mrs. Pitman?”

“Oh, yes, sir,” Prudence said with a nod. “Robbie was in here just a few days ago for the viscount. And a few more days before that too.”

“Is that common for him to be here that frequently?” Hugh asked.

Prudence shook her head. “No, sir. We usually only get an order from them once a month or so. But my father had a special request from the viscount.”

“What sort of special request?” Depesh asked.

“It was only one thing,” Prudence said. “An apple turnover.”

Hugh frowned thoughtfully. That matched up with the apple pastry found in the viscount’s stomach shortly before he died, and Mrs. Pitman’s story that he had taken a gold-wrapped pastry from the basket out with him. “What is so special about these apple turnovers?”

“I don’t rightly know, sir,” Prudence said, frowning a bit. “They don’t look any different than our usual ones.”

“Where do you get your apples?” Hugh asked.

“Most of them are grown outside the city, and the farmers bring them in fresh every week.”

“Do you know which farm?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, sir. I could ask my father if you need to know.”

Hugh wasn’t sure if that information would do them any good or not in this investigation, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. “If you could find out, that would be excellent.”

Prudence nodded, just as the door opened with a cheerful jangle of bells, letting in several ladies who made a beeline for the counter. “I’ll ask tonight, sirs, if you want to stop back tomorrow?”

“Thank you,” Hugh said, giving her a polite bow, and Depesh did the same. “We appreciate your time, Miss Wilcox.”

Prudence nodded and gave them a sweet smile before turning to the women who were oohing and ahhing over some little macarons in the display case. Hugh and Depesh walked outside into the late afternoon sun. Depesh turned to Hugh with a hopeful expression. “Learn anything useful?”

Hugh sighed. “I don’t think so. At least I know I have the right location. But what an apple turnover wrapped in gold paper has to do with this whole thing, I don’t understand.”

“It’s such an odd detail,” Depesh agreed. “Have the coroners identified the victim the viscount was… found with?”

“Not yet,” Hugh said. “Hopefully his identity will give us an idea where to look next.”

Chapter ten

FIRE RAGES THROUGH FLEET STREET, DESTROYS BELOVED BAKERY, FIVE DEAD, read the headline in the paper the next morning. Hugh stared at the photograph there in shock. Where only yesterday he had stood inside the Elysium Emporium and spoken to Prudence Wilcox, there was now only a pile of ashes and cinders. He read through the article, which mentioned that the fire seemed to have started in the back of the shop at one of the ovens and spread quickly. Five victims were listed, though their names were not. Hugh wondered if sweet Miss Prudence had been amongst them. It seemed likely.

“I don’t think this was a coincidence,” Depesh said when he and Hugh arrived at The Yard to prepare for their shift. “You identified the location of the gold paper, and that night it goes up in flames?”

“And the fact that it sounds like the family who owned it appears to have perished in the fire as well,” Hugh added.

Depesh nodded, swiping at his nose with his handkerchief. “That poor girl. Do you think she found something that could have given us insight into this investigation?”

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