Page 47 of Solving Sophronia

The corners of her eyes tightened in a look he recognized as stubbornness.

“’e’s right, my lady. As gruesome a corpse as I’ve ever seen,” Sergeant Lester said. “What with the rats gnawed on him and all the worms. Poor chap was so bloated—”

Jonathan cleared his throat, shooting the sergeant a look instructing him to desist in the description. He touched Miss Bremerton’s arm with one hand and motioned with the other for her to return to her chair.

She looked as if she’d argue but returned and sat all the same, folding her arms. “You believe this new murder to be related to the others?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jonathan nodded as he also resumed his seat. “The victim was Alfred Burgess, a delivery driver for the Bluebird Furniture Emporium.”

“The wagon Freddy saw.” Miss Bremerton’s eyes lit up. She frowned. “But then, did Alfred Burgess murder Jane Duffin and George Lewis?”

“I think not,” Jonathan said. “The Bluebird Furniture Emporium shares a service lane with the Belcourt Assembly Hall. Our theory is he was returning from a delivery precisely when the murderer—or murderers—needed a way to transport the bodies.”

“He was killed for his wagon,” Miss Bremerton said. “How terrible.” She squinted up at the photograph, and Jonathan hoped it was far enough away that she could not make out the details. “Where was his body found?”

“A worksite in Spitalfields,” Sergeant Lester said. “Within a block or so of the others.”

“And how was he... ?” She winced.

“Bludgeoned like Lewis—maybe by the same weapon,” the sergeant said.

Miss Bremerton took out her notebook. She studied the board for a long time, her gaze moving from pictures to lists to names, jotting down notes as she did. Finally she shook her head. “We are making no progress.” She turned the page in her book with a slap of paper. She drew broad strokes with her pencil, sketching what Jonathan assumed was the board. “Our suspect list grows along with the murders,” she continued. “If anything, we are further from solving the case than before.”

Jonathan could not argue, even though her words were rather an insult to his police work and the constabulary. Her conclusion was spot on.

“What do you propose, Detective?” Miss Bremerton asked. “Shall we go back to the scenes? Interview everyone on these lists?” She gave a frustrated sigh.

Jonathan leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk and hoping to look confident in what he was about to say, even though he felt exactly the reverse. “The ball tomorrow night,” he said, mouth going dry. “I... me...” He cleared his throat. “For me to attend the ball. And Sergeant Lester. It is the best plan.” The words fell out of his mouth in a mess that made his face redden. He must sound like a simpleton. He glanced at the sergeant, seeing the man nod in agreement.

“But we cannot execute it without your help, my lady,” Sergeant Lester said.

“I see.” Miss Bremerton blinked and frowned, looking from the sergeant to Jonathan. Her look turned scrutinizing.

Was she seeing an uneducated and unsophisticated man who’d dared suggest that he could rise above his class and blend with the highest circles of Society? Jonathan shifted in his seat, feeling exposed and foolish.

She pulled her lips to the side, her gaze still on him, then glanced at the sergeant before turning back to Jonathan. “Obviously you will wish to intermingle with the Kingsclere Hunting Club members. But you do not wish for them to know you are police officers, or they will not speak freely in front of you.” She chewed on her lip. “But how will they be convinced you belong among them... ?” Her voice was low, trailing off as she considered.

Jonathan squirmed under her scrutiny. “I know I am not well-spoken, and I have little experience dancing or—”

“You have much more worthy attributes, sir, and a far superior character than any two members of elite Society combined,” she muttered, staring at a spot over his shoulder. “Do not trouble yourself on that account.” She waved her hand in the air as if to flick the idea away. Another moment passed, and Miss Bremerton’s gaze sharpened. She looked between the men and rose quickly to her feet, a grin growing on her face. “I believe I have an idea.”

Jonathan still hadn’t fully processed her words. Had she complimented him? He contemplated the words and realized she had indeed bestowed a compliment. And she’d given it as an afterthought, a distracted utterance, as if it were something obvious and she’d not said it merely to flatter him. A warm glow expanded inside his chest as he considered her words.Much more worthy attributes and a far superior charact—

“Detective Graham, are you listening to me?”

Jonathan realized Miss Bremerton and Sergeant Lester were both staring at him, as if waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry,” he said, pushing away the thoughts and bringing the moment back into focus. “My mind wandered.”

Miss Bremerton gave ahumphsound and put her hand on the desk as though to force him to focus. “Detective, I asked what do you know of Serbia.”

He tipped his head to the side. “Serbia? The country?”

“Yes, the country.” Her lips twitched.

“Very little, I’m afraid. I don’t see what that has to do—”

“For this plan to work, we have much to prepare.” Miss Bremerton’s eyes were bright with excitement.

“What is the plan?” Jonathan asked.

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