Page 42 of Taken to the Grave
Sir Gabriel whisked it from her hand. “Mmmm. It looks familiar.”
“Sir Oliver Pendleton wears cuff links with this symbol. Mr. Comstock did as well. I think they might be something members wear to mark themselves,” Audrey said.
The magistrate handed the sketch back to her. “I know Sir Oliver. I think a visit is in order.”
Hugh stepped forward, his hand raised. “I wonder if you might hold there, sir. We don’t want to tip off anyone that we are suspicious of the Sanctuary just yet. So far, any mention of it has been met with nervousness and hostility.”
Sir Gabriel grumbled but relented and sat back down into his chair.
“We need to discover where the Sanctuary is located,” Audrey said. “I say we follow Sir Oliver and see if he can lead us there. Then, we observe who else comes and goes.”
“That is assuming he goes there on a regular basis,” Hugh replied. “If he doesn’t, we could be waiting for him to lead us there for quite some time.”
“All right,” she conceded, impatient but in agreement. “But so far all we know is that it is near Vauxhall.”
Sir Gabriel grunted. “Bethany was found near the Vauxhall stairs. Her body was tangled in some fishing detritus. She’d been there for days…” He went quiet, his voice cut off under the strain of emotion.
“How long has Tyne been working the Vauxhall case?” Hugh asked.
“Since Stromburg was found dead. Why?”
Audrey thought she knew in which direction Hugh’s mind had gone. “The brothel madame was found two days after Stromburg. And two weeks after that, Mr. Givens. Who, it’s been suggested, had turned informant for someone.”
Sir Gabriel got to his feet. “Informant for whom?”
Audrey understood now. “Do you think for Bow Street? For Officer Tyne?”
Hugh nodded. “If someone learned Givens was spying at the Seven Sins, nosing around about the Sanctuary and informing the police on what he heard, it would be motive for someone from the Sanctuary to want to silence him.”
“Then what of Stromburg and Madame Lee?” Audrey asked. “Were they speaking out of turn about the society as well?”
“Madame Lee ran a specialty brothel that caters to wealthy men,” Sir Gabriel said. “The Red Lotus.”
And Stromburg, according to Princess Esterhazy, had possessed a disreputable taste in vice. At the time, Audrey thought only of the Seven Sins. But now, she crossed her arms with a twist of unease. “Specialty?”
She regretted voicing her ignorance when Hugh replied, “Certain brothels cater to different…proclivities.”
“Oh, I see.” She wasn’t entirely sure she did, but it sounded rather indecent, and she didn’t wish to continue the discussionwith Sir Gabriel present. “If some of her clients were also Sanctuary members, she might have overheard things.”
“And thought to profit from them,” Hugh said. “In all his investigating, what has Tyne found?”
Sir Gabriel hitched his hands on his hips with a lowering frown. “Nothing to report.”
Hugh exhaled, his skepticism about the officer’s capabilities clear. “We do need to find the Sanctuary. We also need to know how Madame Lee and Stromburg connect to it. I have an idea on how we can see to both things tonight.” He looked at Audrey. “It will mean splitting up. At least for a few hours.”
A stone lodged in her stomach. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like his idea at all.
Chapter
Thirteen
The brothel wasn’t what Hugh had expected.
He was no stranger to businesses that catered to men’s carnal appetites. For many, passion and violence danced along the thin edge of the same sword. He’d been called to a number of brothels during his time at Bow Street. When managed well, a house of ill repute could maintain a steady and lucrative business. It had usually been the poorly managed ones, where those in charge profited heavily and treated their workers like chattel, that Hugh and his fellow constables had needed to visit.
From the moment he set foot inside the Red Lotus, he knew he’d arrived at one of the better ones. Luxurious shades of pink, burgundy, and scarlet touched the silk paneled walls, satin hangings, and privacy screens. Potted palms offset the red, as did the black and gold carpets. The perfume of jasmine incense wasn’t overbearing, but just enough to tempt those entering the front hall with sensual feminine promises.
Hugh stood unattended, except for the presence of a burly man in a black suit and red cravat near the draped entrance to another room. He merely observed Hugh and then tugged a bellpull, dangling from the wall behind him. A brass bell chimed within the house.
