Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(53)

Being small of stature, Nelly had it worse. As the crowd squeezed in around them, the poor girl was hemmed in by dark-colored coats.

But what she lacked in size, the plucky thing made up for in determination. With the aid of a few well placed elbows, Nelly pried open a sliver of space and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Ada shoulder to shoulder with a group of somber clerks.

She was glad her handbag hadn’t been part of her disguise. The crowd would be a prime hunting ground for pickpockets. Not that she had the least skill in picking them out.

As if by magic, Nelly emerged from the crowd directly in front of her. Her face solemn, she waved. “Come on.”

She gripped Ada’s hand and pulled her through the wall of humanity, as if she were threading ribbon. An instant later, they emerged into a tight clearing. Spencer and a few volunteers were holding back the crowd. A woman’s body—more a pile of rags, really—lay crumpled up against a wall.

Edison crouched next to the form, cradling her head in his large hands. He’d turned the woman onto her back and wiped her long blonde hair away from her face.

Except for the gut-twisting angle of her neck, the poor thing could have been sleeping.

With a nod, he gestured for Ada to come forward. “I’m sorry to do this,” he said, his eyes full of sympathy. “Do you know her?”

Ada swallowed the bile rising in her throat and forced herself to concentrate on the pale face. Nothing about the woman’s features seemed familiar, though it would be hard to tell given her face was so devoid of animation.

Ada shook her head, unable to form words.

It could have been her.

Would have been her, had Edison not charged to her rescue. Only she wouldn’t have looked so peaceful. Death by cyanide would have left her in a rictus of agony.

Gorge rose in her throat. Her ears buzzed, making the voices of the crowd, the shouts, the gasps, the prayers, rise and fall in unnatural waves of sound.

The shrill call of a police whistle cut through the buzz with the ease toluene cutting through paint.

“Here now, let us through,” a voice accustomed to command called out sharply.

Ada caught the knowing look that flew between the league members. Without a word, Meena and Briar and Spencer dissolved into the crowd.

Edison remained by the body. He set the woman’s head gently back down as two blue-coated officers stumbled their way forward.

He acknowledged them with a nod. “Officers.”

Nelly tugged on Ada’s arm. “We best move on.”

Too stunned to think for herself, Ada allowed the girl to guide her through the throng and back out onto the main street.

Traffic on the main road was moving again as if nothing had changed.

Ada blinked in the faltering sunlight. Life had certainly changed for that poor woman. Changed in an unimaginable instant of terror.

Ada clutched her hands together, fighting the urge to run… or burst into a flood of tears.

Meena rushed up to her. “Are you all right?” She took her gently by the arm and steered her to a small table set back against the windows of a cafe.

Knees trembling with shock, Ada sank down onto the chair. “I think so.”

Briar slid into the seat opposite while Nelly took the final chair.

“That’s a nasty business,” the young girl observed.

“Nasty, indeed,” Briar added. Her voice lacked its usual cheer.

Meena sat with her elbows on the wrought iron table, her chin propped in her hands. The smudges of dirt on her cheeks and the sad state of her beat-up old hat only added to the gloom.

Ada shuddered, trying to erase the images. “How awful,” she whispered. “How perfectly awful.”

“I’m sure Detective Burke’ll be on the case,” Nelly said. “He’ll see to justice, won’t ‘e?”

Meena smiled at the girl. “I have no doubt. Our Inspector Burke is an extraordinary detective.”

Nelly nodded, as if eager to stress the positive. “‘E’s all right. For a crusher.”

Before anyone could respond, Edison and Spencer rushed up to the table.

“It was him.” Edison kicked a leaf down the pavement. “Damn it, he got in right under our noses.”

Behind him, Spencer ran a hand through his thick hair. He looked as discouraged as Edison was angry.

“How could it be?” Meena asked. “We had the place surrounded.”

Edison and Spencer shared a long look.

“Found this underneath the body.” Spencer slapped a small card down on the table.

Once white, it was now smudged and water-stained from laying in the damp alley. Though she was intimately familiar with the printing, Ada glared at the card as if she could will the thing away.

The furrow in Meena’s brow grew deeper as she studied the printing. “Oh dear.” She met Ada’s gaze, clearly puzzled now. “How did she come to have your calling card?”

Ada sank back in her seat. Her head whirled, her surroundings spinning about at a sickening pace.

That poor woman was dead because of her.

“However she got hold of Ada’s cards, my guess is she was trying to pull a con on whoever wrote that advert,” Edison said.

Spencer nodded in agreement, as did Briar.

“But how did she get Ada’s cards?” Briar repeated her cousin’s question.