Page 65 of Solving Sophronia

“Your suspicions about the hunting club are not unfounded.” Sir Dennington nodded, scratching his chin. “And you detained everyone in attendance last night?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Some resisted, sir.” He gritted his teeth, frustrated that so many members of high Society were above the law. “Others left before reinforcements came to guard the exits.”

“But we talked to most,” Sergeant Lester said. “Apparently nobody saw or heard anything unusual.”

“Not even gunshots?” Sir Dennington asked in disbelief. “And no one saw a shooter fleeing the scene?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Most were just put out at having their party ruined.”

Sir Dennington nodded. He sighed. “I’m sorry to do this, but I’ll ask you to turn in your badge and warrant card now.” He stood back up, clasping his hands behind his back. “You’ll be on leave without pay until this situation either runs its course or I’m ordered to ask for your resignation.”

Jonathan set his badge and card on the table. “Yes, sir.”

“And you as well, Sergeant.”

Sergeant Lester swallowed. He took the card from his pocket and unpinned his badge.

Jonathan winced with the guilt of seeing his loyal friend punished for following his orders.

“That will be all for now, gentlemen,” Sir Dennington said as a dismissal. His voice was not unkind, but it left no room for argument.

The two crossed the station to Jonathan’s office.

Jonathan took a bag of peppermints from the coat hanging on his chair, offering one to the sergeant, then putting one into his own mouth. “I’m sorry, Sergeant. I should never have allowed this.” He put on his coat, then slipped the peppermints back into the pocket.

A copy of theLondon Illustrated Newssat on his desk, open to Sophie’s—Lady Sophronia’s—article.

Sergeant Lester stared at the paper, looking utterly devastated. “What do we do now, sir?”

Jonathan rounded the desk. He clapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “If you’d care to join me, I intend to visit the hospital. Let us see if Constable Merryweather has awoken.”

Sergeant Lester nodded. He brushed the paper from the desk into the rubbish bin and stood.

Jonathan put on his hat. He picked up the papers Miss Thornton had given him the night before with the list and the ladies’ notes on each suspect they’d spoken to. He was tempted to toss them, but he held on to them.

The other detectives and constables avoided eye contact as Jonathan and Sergeant Lester walked back through the station house.

Jonathan didn’t blame them. He had made the most enormous mistake of his career, and H Division’s reputation and the other policemen would suffer for it.

Sergeant Lester opened the door, but before Jonathan stepped through, Sergeant Abner came around the reception desk. “Sir, I’ve the information you asked for.”

Jonathan took the file. “What is this?”

“The property history of the workhouse construction site. You asked me to uncover the records...” He raised his thick red brows. “Surely you remember, sir?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Sergeant Abner.” Not wishing to appear ungrateful, Jonathan slid Miss Thornton’s papers into the file from Abner and tucked it under his arm.

When they arrived at the hospital, they entered through the main entrance and continued on to the ward. On a typical visit to Dr. Peabody, Jonathan descended the stairs to the morgue. And, truthfully, he preferred that route. The hospital smelled of medicine and illness. People waited outside rooms, looking up with faces that contained a horrible combination of fear and hope whenever a doctor approached. And in the rooms beyond he heard moans and cries of pain. At least in the morgue, no one suffered anymore.

They entered the ward where Merryweather was being tended and found Lady Sophronia standing at his bedside, speaking with Dr. Peabody.

Jonathan wasn’t prepared for the jolt of shock at seeing her. Anger and hurt warred within him, making his insides shake. His first impulse was to run; then he wanted to yell. But he did neither, only continued forward and assumed an aloof expression.

When she saw them, her face lit up, and she hurried toward them. “I’m glad you’re here.” She spoke to Jonathan, then turned and gave a smile and a nod to his companion. “And you as well, Sergeant Lester.”

The sergeant inclined his head, but he didn’t smile. “My lady.”

Lady Sophronia’s brow furrowed at his cold response, but she did not comment on it. “Detective, we need to talk. Something terrible has happened. The newspaper—”

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