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The rector at Glencorse Parish Church had nothing to tell us that we didn’t already know, and neither did the grave. It had already been recovered, and Ian Tyler’s remains secured underground again. The graveyard was located just behind the ivy-covered church and surrounded by thick, tall trees, shielding it from the outside, and making it an ideal place to conduct a body snatching. In the late summer and early autumn, the foliage would be so full on the trees that it was unlikely someone from the outside would even see the light of a lantern or two.
Given the secrecy of the setting, we decided not to question those who lived nearby, assuming they would have come forward long before now if they’d actually seen something suspicious. Any other evidence had long since disappeared or been washed away, so we left the church no closer to the truth than we had been before.
We said little on the journey back north, each of us pondering the strangeness of this case. Or, at least, that’s what I was thinking about. But when I began to notice by the increasing number of buildings and the cramped space they were built into that we were rolling into Edinburgh instead of headed east toward the sea and Musselburgh, I turned to Gage in confusion.
“I apologize. I should have told you earlier. There’s been a change in plans.” He braced himself against the carriage wall as we turned a sharp corner. “Sergeant Maclean sent word last night. He thinks he may know where we can find this Bonnie Brock tonight.” He turned to look out the window, avoiding my gaze. “So our trip to Musselburgh will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“I see,” I murmured, trying to keep my voice carefully neutral, though I could hear my vexation creeping in. “And am I to assume, based on your demeanor, that I’m to be excluded from this excursion?”
“It would be best,” Gage replied, still not looking at me.
I turned to scowl out the opposite window. I hated being left out of such things because Gage or some other man was fearful of my safety. Normally such circumstances worked to the opposite effect, leaving me in danger, but I bit my tongue. Given the situation, perhaps it would be best for me to remain behind. If they were searching for a criminal as notorious as Bonnie Brock was rumored to be, then who knew what type of unsavory establishments they would find themselves in, or what miscreants they might be forced to skirmish with. Even with my pistol, I would still be in the way.
There was also my reputation to consider—that which I was protecting from becoming further tarnished and that which I couldn’t escape. Gage and Sergeant Maclean would likely find themselves in West Port at some point, Burke and Hare’s old haunt, and should anyone learn who I was and recall my reputation while I was there, things could turn ugly quickly. The citizens of Edinburgh Old Town were still very much afraid that more murderers were at work in their streets, selling the corpses to the anatomists at the Surgeons’ Hall. To discover a woman nicknamed the Butcher’s Wife walking among them would incite a riot.
In any case, as bitterly cold as it was today, tonight would be even worse, and I would not enjoy shivering while I traipsed through dirty, dark, cramped closes in search of this Bonnie Brock.
Or, at least, that’s what I told myself.
“Well, be careful,” I bit out, hoping this Sergeant Maclean could be trusted to watch Gage’s back.
When he didn’t reply, I turned to find him watching me with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. But when it became apparent I wasn’t going to argue or ask him further questions, he simply nodded. “I will.”
I turned back to the window to study the cramped streets of the Old Town and said a silent prayer that he truly would.
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When my sister discovered I would be available that evening, she immediately decided I must attend the theater with them. It was one of the few things that Alana’s physician had not restricted her from, as long as she remained in Philip’s theater box and off her feet for the majority of the performance. I made a weak protest, more interested in spending the evening sketching than watching a play, but upon seeing the joy and excitement my sister felt at the prospect of our outing, I could not deny her long.