His eyes rose to meet Alastair’s. I made a condolence call, only to find you’d already been there squiring her around.
Good lord, you’re jealous.
Keats’ jaw tightened. Yes, I guess I am.
Well, that explains a great deal.
Meaning? Keats snarled.
Meaning we both care for the woman. Nevertheless, now is not the time for petty animosity. We need to work together to keep her safe.
A grudging nod.
Please tell me what happened tonight, Alastair urged.
Keats acquiesced. By the time the tale concluded, including Jacynda’s encounter on Dorset Street, Alastair let a loose a blast of air through pursed lips. Bless you for coming to her aid, he said.
Keats shook his head. She would not tell me why she was on the streets. I honestly believe she knew where she was—that it wasn’t a misjudgment.
Alastair nodded. Jacynda was there on purpose, I wager. She’s not thinking rationally at this point.
Part of him wanted to bolt for New Castle Street and see Jacynda in person, to ensure she wasn’t injured beyond what Keats had reported. He heard a noise and turned toward the clinic––another patient shuffled inside.
You’re sure she wasn’t hurt more than she let on? he queried.
Yes, I’m sure. She walked back to the boarding house without my assistance. It appears her shoulder took the brunt of the damage. Her landladies are seeing to her.
Thank God.
Indeed.
Another patient limped into the building. Alastair let out a deep sigh. I’d best help Daniel, then I shall go to the boarding house without delay.
I will rest easier knowing you will see to her.
Their eyes met yet again. There were words held back on both sides. Why is someone trying to kill her? Keats asked.
I have no idea.
You must go to the police.
The coroner has ruled the death a suicide, and Mr. Stone has been cremated. The matter is at an end.
A snort. You might as well know, I traced the bottle you gave me to the chemist who dispensed the medicine. It was purchased four days ago, and signed for in the shop ledger.
Then, by heavens, we have him!
Keats shook his head. No, we don’t. We only have more questions.
What do you mean?
The man who signed the ledger shares something in common with you.
Which is?
There was a tense pause. Your name.
What? My God, you don’t think I… Alastair’s voice faded in horror.
I’ll be honest, I had my doubts for a time, but the description of the fellow did not sound like you.
Why in God’s name would someone forge my signature?
Another question without an answer. This whole affair is a complete tangle, Keats allowed. We must press Jacynda to leave London.
There are mitigating circumstances. For the time being, she may be forced to remain in London.
Keats straightened up, deep in thought. Indeed. He gestured.
They’re queuing outside the door, now. I’d best leave you to your work.
Thank you for looking out for Jacynda. Keats didn’t reply. He strode away, the pensive expression still in place.
Alastair retreated to the clinic. As he motioned the next patient forward, his mind demanded answers. Why would someone want Jacynda dead? Who had tried to implicate me in a murder?
Keats was right. This whole affair was a complete tangle.