Gage nodded at me. “Lady Darby and I will pay them a visit then, along with the Casselbecks in Musselburgh, the family of our second victim. In the meantime, we’ve some sketches we’d like you to show around. Maybe someone will recognize them.”
I reached into my reticule and extracted the two sketches I’d made from the St. Boswells innkeeper’s descriptions.
“There’s no need,” Sergeant Maclean remarked with a frown after looking at them. “I know both of ’em.” His gaze rose to meet mine. “You’ve a rare talent. Looks just like ’em.”
“Who are they?”
He set the two drawings on the table and pointed to the first man, who sported a scar across his forehead. “This one goes by the name o’ Curst Eckie. And this one is Sore John. They’re both part o’ Bonnie Brock Kincaid’s crew. Or used to be anyways. I havena seen ’em aboot in the last few months, and I’m usually rousin’ ’em oot o’ one pub or another.”
“Who’s Bonnie Brock?” I asked when it appeared Gage would not.
Sergeant Maclean glanced at Gage, as if asking how much to share.
“Bonnie Brock runs one o’ Edinburgh’s largest gangs o’ criminals. You name it, if it’s illegal, Bonnie Brock’s probably got his fingers in it.”
“If you know that, then why hasn’t he been caught?”
His gaze turned weary. “Because the man is too canny. Even when we ken he’s behind a crime, we canna pin it on him. His men are too loyal, ’cuz they ken he’ll find a way to break ’em oot o’ jail, or rig the jury during their trial. The one time we did have him locked up, the city rose up in protest and another man came forward and took the blame.”
“Why?”
“He owns too many o’ ’em. And the rest view him as some sort o’ hero, their verra own Robin Hood.”
Though I knew the sergeant’s words were supposed to horrify me, I couldn’t help but feel reluctantly curious about this Bonnie Brock. Who was he and why had he chosen a life of crime?
“Interestingly enough,” Sergeant Maclean added. “It’s rumored that Bonnie Brock started oot as a body snatcher.”
I shared a look with Gage.
“And he still runs crews aboot the city when the price is right.” His chair creaked as he leaned back in it. “If Edinburgh criminals are a part of this bodies-for-ransom scheme, I’d wager he’s involved somehow.”
Gage tapped his fingers against his teacup, frowning down at its dregs. “Any way you can find out? Will some of his men talk?”
The shop door chimed and a pair of ladies entered, slowly removing their gloves.
Sergeant Maclean leaned forward, speaking more softly. “I’ll put some feelers oot, see what I can find.”
Our conversation quickly broke up. While the ladies were distracted by Mrs. Duffy, Gage and I slipped out, allowing the sergeant to take his leave later, perhaps through the back door, depending on how inconspicuous he wished to be. In his gray greatcoat with a baton strapped to his belt, it was easy enough to recognize him as a policeman.
I was silent for most of the ride back to Charlotte Square. Was it really that simple? Were the culprits merely an enterprising gang of Edinburgh body snatchers who had stumbled on a more lucrative way to make money, and Dodd had gotten in the way?
But then who were the gentlemen who visited the abbey the morning of Hogmanay? And what of the two men Sim’s Christie had seen leaving the ball? Were they unrelated? Was the lady’s clothing also unconnected? And how exactly were these criminals choosing their victims? It wasn’t as if they’d picked them out of a newspaper obituary. Two of them had been dead for over a decade.
I wasn’t satisfied with this solution, and until we found the connection between the three men, I doubted I ever would be.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
My sister was waiting for us when we returned to the town house. Reclining on a settee positioned near the bow window at the front of the house, she had an optimal view of the square and all its passersby. I felt somewhat sorry for her, knowing the doctor had ordered her to limit her outings. Alana was a social person, and being cooped up in the house most of her days had to be trying for her. But I was also conscious of the fact that, bored as she was, now she would be more interested in my activities than ever before. Little as I liked to share about myself with anyone, this would be very taxing for me.
I smiled anyway as we entered the drawing room, still pleased to see her looking so well after the hellish early months of her confinement. I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek and tell her she looked lovely, for she did, seated in the sunshine in her yellow frock with a soft white blanket draped over her legs.
She brushed the compliment off, but I could tell by the light in her eyes that she was happy. Gage seconded my opinion, making a blush rise in Alana’s cheeks. She gestured for him to take a seat near her and then turned to me.