Lord Dover gave Alec a quick sideways glance. Most likely he believed the other man was one of the fiends that walked the streets.
“Our search shan’t take long,” Aldridge pressed.
It wasn’t easy to argue against someone like the Duke of Aldridge. Lord Dover seemed to recognize that, and pressed his thin lips together. “I suppose I can give your ward permission to look through the lot,” he said grudgingly. He narrowed his eyes as his gaze went to Kendra. “You must be careful, though. I do not want anything broken by careless hands.”
Kendra tightened her jaw and bit back a snide retort. Asshole. She returned to the glittery tangle of jewelry, and slowly picked her way through the necklaces, bracelets, broaches, and earrings. It was like sifting through pirate booty. She’d never bothered much with jewelry herself, but found herself enchanted by the icy brilliance of the diamonds, the way the sapphires seemed to glow in the dim room, the odd luminance of the pearls, the silk glide of the gold chains.
But there was no necklace with five strands of pearls interspersed with pink diamonds.
She moved on to the other items. The Duke and Alec joined her in inspecting boxes that held silverware and peering into vases. Lord Dover watched them with an air of condescension. She would have loved to find the necklace, just to wipe that arrogant look off his greyhound face, but after forty-five minutes, she had to concede that particular piece of jewelry was not among the items taken from Lady Dover’s house.
“The necklace is not here.” The Duke was the one to state the obvious. He straightened from a wooden chest he’d been checking. His eyes met hers across the table piled high with the stolen goods. “Now we know the murderer took the necklace.”
“Now we know.”
44
She knew. But Kendra wanted to be absolutely certain.
Outside, she walked over to the prisoner, still sitting on the stump surrounded by Runners, and, by what she could determine of his expression, still obstinately against informing anyone of the identities of his fellow robbers.
“Oi ain’t gonna peach on me lads,” he snarled, and spat with pretty good accuracy at her toes. Luckily, she was faster, and stepped back before the spittle could hit its mark.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your partners,” she told him. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut widened in surprise as he looked at her with renewed interest. Feeling safe for the moment, she stepped forward again, squatting down to be eye level with him. “How did you know to rob that particular residence on that particular night?”
He hesitated, then shrugged his muscular shoulders. “Word got around, didn’t it, ’bout the gentry mort gettin’ ’er gullet slit. We ’eard the ’ouse was empty. What for yer askin’?”
“So you went inside and robbed the place?”
“Aye. ’Twasn’t easy neither, not with the thief-takers walkin’ the street. But Bart—ah, Oi figured it out, Oi did. Were finished in three ’ours. Right smooth job, it was.”
“Bully for you.”
“W’ot?”
“Did you or your partners sell anything from the house?”
“Oi told them,” he said, and tipped his head back to glare at the men standing around him, “we were layin’ low ter sell the lot. Seemed like the thing ter do with all of bleeding Bow Street out lookin’ fer the goods.”
“So you didn’t take a necklace—five strands of pearls with pink diamonds—and sell it?”
“Oi jest told ye, we didn’t. Are ye deaf, woman?”
One of the men slapped the thief on the side of his head. “Watch yer tongue, ye cur! Ye’re talkin’ ter a lady!”
The thief was unrepentant, his eyes bright with anger as he swung his gaze toward the Bow Street Runner. “Is that so? Well, it bloody well seems like Oi’m talkin’ ter a thief-taker wearin’ skirts!”
The Runner looked like he was going to backhand the robber again, but Kendra put up her hand. “I got what I wanted. Thank you.” She pushed herself to her feet, then hesitated. She looked at Sam. “Have you thought of making a deal with him? Lessen his prison time if he tells you who his accomplices are?”
“Prison time?” One of the other Bow Street Runners laughed. “His stay in Newgate is gonna be quick. Then he’ll be facing Jack Ketch, he will.”
“Jack Ketch is slang for death, or the hangman,” the Duke said when he saw her frown.
Kendra fell silent, chilled. Like most people in law enforcement, she believed in law and order, and justice. As far as she was concerned, the death penalty was warranted for certain killers. She’d sat across from too many victims’ families, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights and tears over the often grisly fate that had befallen their loved ones. She’d sat across from too many serial killers, too, as they took perverse pleasure in recounting the details of their gruesome crimes, reliving each murder in their minds. She’d seen too many killers walk free, escape, or adjust so well to prison life that they even managed to marry and have children. Hanging a man for robbing an empty house struck her as barbaric.
This is why I don’t belong, she thought, as she turned away from the doomed prisoner and began walking back to the carriage. Alec and the Duke fell into step beside her. Sam caught up to them at the carriage, as the coachman opened the door.
“I’m gonna stay here, make sure the prisoner gets transferred ter Newgate, and help Lord Dover with everything.”
Kendra gave him a wry look. “Good luck with that.”
Sam grinned at her. “Aye.” He stepped back, allowing them to climb into the carriage.
Kendra settled into the seat, looking at Alec and the Duke. “Okay, now we really do know that the necklace was taken by Lady Dover’s killer.”
“You are meticulous in your methods, Miss Donovan,” the Duke said approvingly. “If you hadn’t sought employment at your Federal Bureau of Investigation, you would be an excellent natural philosopher.”
Kendra gave an involuntarily grimace. “A scientist.”
Aldridge regarded her with surprise. “You do not oppose science. You, more than anyone, are cognizant of its importance.”
“It’s not that.” Kendra hesitated. What to say? She wasn’t afraid that she could change the future by revealing her own past. But thinking about that period of her life still had the power to send her stomach churning.
Finally, she simply shrugged. Maybe it was time they knew about her bizarre background. “My parents were scientists,” she said. “My mother is a quantum physicist and my father is a scientist in genome research.”