Echoes of Sherlock Holmes: Stories Inspired by the Holmes Canon(68)

The door opened and the huge man filled it, an ugly twist of blackthorn stick in his hands. He stopped in surprise when he saw the couple standing together with the woman’s veil pushed back off her face.

“Mickey, bring around the carriage, we need to take Inspector Corcoran back to the Castle.”

“I can walk.”

“I am going with you.”

Both men looked at her in surprise.

“And you will return here at eight o’clock this evening.”

The inspector blinked in surprise. “I will?”

“You will,” she said simply.

“Why?”

“Because I will tell you then who stole the jewels.”

Hopelessly confused, Dermot looked from the woman to Mickey and then back again. “You will? Why? How?”

“Because you set a thief to catch a thief,” she said, spinning away in a cloud of delicate lavender perfume. “Give me thirty minutes and I will join you. Remember: eight o’clock, Inspector. Mickey will meet you at the corner of Marlborough Street and bring you in the back way. A man like you should not be seen visiting a house like this.”

“A man like me: a policeman?”

“A good man,” she called over her shoulder.

Dermot Corcoran looked at Mickey. “I’ve never been called a good man before.”

“I’ll wager you’ve never met a woman like Madam Kitten before either.”



Tilly Cusack sat on the edge of the bed and watched Katherine dress. “And if I was to tell you that I think this is a very bad idea . . .”

“I would listen to you and then ignore you.”

“Can I at least come with you?” Tilly’s Cockney accent was more pronounced now, a sure indication that she was concerned.

“No. I don’t think someone like me can be seen in the company of an older woman!”

“Bitch!” Tilly grinned.

Katherine spun around and spread her arms. “What do you think?”

Tilly looked her up and down. “I think you look like an apprentice clerk.”

Katherine was dressed in a slightly shabby man’s black suit. The cuffs on the coat and the hem on the trousers were a little long, to help disguise her wrists and ankles. Tilly had helped her bind down her breasts with gauze bandages, and a slightly overlarge shirt and waistcoat lent bulk to her slender figure. Her hair was wrapped in a tight coil on top of her head and concealed beneath a cap. A hint of five o’clock shadow on her cheeks and chin, cotton balls in her mouth, and wire-framed glasses with plain glass completed the disguise.

“Now let’s see how good this get-up is,” Katherine said, linking her arm through Tilly’s.

Arm-in-arm, the women descended the stairs and peered into the sitting room. “Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” Katherine murmured. The inspector and Mickey were deep in conversation over the remains of tea and biscuits.

“Bet he’s telling you his war stories,” Tilly said loudly. “His days in the Sixty-sixth Foot.” Moving over to Mickey’s shoulder, she ran her hand across the scar on his throat.

He reached up and squeezed her fingers. “Lucky to be here,” he whispered. “The surgeon saved my life.”

Dermot Corcoran stood and stared at the young man standing in the doorway. He frowned. “I’m usually good with names and faces,” he said. “I believe we’ve met . . .”

“Aye, we’ve met,” Katherine said in a masculine rasp, and then added in her own voice, “not more than thirty minutes ago, in this very room.”

Once again, Dermot’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Katherine looked at Tilly and Mickey. “Told you it would work.”



“What is troubling you, Inspector? You’ve barely said a word.”

The couple sat facing one another in an elegant black brougham which swayed down Sackville Street.

He shrugged. “I am not entirely sure what to say. It has been a morning of revelations. I believe I may be in shock.”

“The theft of the jewels must have been a shock,” she agreed with a slight smile.

Dermot grinned. “In truth, I don’t care about the jewels. I was thinking more of the other surprises the day has had to offer . . .” He pulled out a battered pocket watch. “And it is not yet two o’clock.”

“The day is not yet over,” Madam Kitten smiled.

“And the biggest surprise of all was you.”

Color touched the woman’s cheeks. Surprised by the emotion, she dipped her head and focused on the cap in her hands. “Ah, the disguise . . . well, it’s a useful way to be able to move through the city.”

“The disguise was a shock—not a surprise—but no, I was more surprised that you would offer to help.”

“The sooner we get this cleared up, the sooner my world will return to normal, and those who need to can get back to earning a living.”

The inspector shook his head. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“You thought I would be older: a wizened harridan.”

“I’ve heard the stories.”

“So did I. Most of them I put out myself.”

“Why?” he wondered.