Page 23 of Dead Beside the Thames
“And sadly, given we’re working westward into the heart of the docks, our progress is only going to get slower.” Stokes sighed. “I wish there was some faster way to find the site, but if there is, I can’t think of it.”
“Neither Penelope nor I can, either.”
“At least with Sedbury hailing from a noble house, the commissioner has all but given me carte blanche with respect to calling in extra men. I’ve already taken advantage of that, but even if I had yet more men, I don’t think we could go much faster. We still have to wait for people to appear before we can question them.”
Barnaby pulled a face. “Frustratingly slow it might be, but at this point, steady and certain is what we need. Speed would be nice, but we can’t risk missing the site. Knowing where it is and what we can deduce from that is likely to prove crucial.”
“I’m not looking forward to explaining our progress to the marquess.”
“As I recall,” Barnaby said, “he’s not such a bad egg. I crossed paths with my father this morning, and he considers Rattenby a reasonable man.”
Stokes didn’t look convinced. “Until we know how he views the murder of his heir, I’m not sure we can predict how he’ll behave.” He turned to regard Barnaby. “How’s your lads’ network doing?”
Barnaby smiled with almost paternal pride. “They’ve found witnesses enough to exonerate Charlie, even without Garvey’s testimony. Not that we truly suspected Charlie, but still, it’s nice to have solid evidence to support our assertions.”
Stokes grunted in agreement.
“And,” Barnaby went on, “I’m delighted to report that they’ve picked up Sedbury’s trail. That’s what I came here to tell you. He left White’s and walked to Pall Mall, where he hailed a hackney and directed the jarvey to drive in this direction, meaning eastward. At present, the lads are working on locating the jarvey.”
“More power to them,” Stokes said. “Learning exactly where Sedbury went next—where he left the hackney—would be a boon.” His expression was approving as he looked at Barnaby. “That was an inspired notion of yours, to put all those idle eyes and brains to good use.”
Barnaby laughed. “You won’t be surprised to learn that it was Penelope who first thought of it. She came up with the notion out of her work finding jobs for the Foundling House graduates.”
Stokes fell silent for a moment, then said, “I should speak with her about recruiting some of her brighter lads into the force. We could do with more who have their roots in the areas we’re trying to police.”
Barnaby clapped him on the shoulder. “You should definitely mention that. I predict the patronesses will leap on the idea—it’s precisely the sort of employment that appeals to them, a job helping society, which, after all, is their founding principle.”
“Hmm. I will, then.” Stokes straightened as Constable Morgan approached.
The baby-faced Morgan looked abnormally serious as he snapped off a salute. “We’ve done with that street, guv. No news there, so we’re on to the next.”
Stokes nodded. “All we can do is keep at it.”
Morgan dipped his head to Barnaby, who he knew well, then turned and went back to the group of younger constables he was overseeing.
Stokes sighed. “As I said, this will take time. I just hope we learn something useful from the exercise.”
“We will.” Barnaby watched Morgan reassign the young constables. “I think that once we get some idea of why Sedbury was down here—or wherever it was that he went after leaving Pall Mall and that hackney—we’ll have a much better feeling for who might have killed him.”
“I certainly hope so,” Stokes replied. “If it transpires that he wasn’t killed elsewhere and his body carted down to the river, but was, indeed, killed around here, somewhere by the bank, that implies he came here of his own accord, and that widens the suspect list considerably.”
Barnaby grimaced. “True. However, given the victim is Sedbury, in terms of suspects, I greatly fear that we’re going to have far more than is helpful. Far more than we can manage.”
Stokes made a distinctly sour sound.
Barnaby glanced around. “Can you leave O’Donnell and Morgan in charge of the search?”
Stokes met his gaze. “Yes.”
“Good. Because we should head back to Albemarle Street. Penelope has information gleaned from her usual sources to impart, and Charlie might have news as well.”
Stokes readily gave his men orders to continue their endeavors until five o’clock, then he joined Barnaby, and they walked back to where Barnaby had left the hackney.
With Claudia beside him, her hand on his arm and Napier’s whip in her other hand, Charlie mentally girded his loins and knocked on the door of Napier House.
Napier’s butler opened the door, and Charlie promptly handed him a card. “Mr. Charlie Hastings and Lady Claudia Hale to see his lordship.”
The butler’s assessing gaze passed over them, then he bowed, stepped back, and waved them inside. “If you will wait in the drawing room, sir, my lady”—he gestured to a door on the left—“I will inform his lordship of your presence.”
