Katherine watched the thought flicker behind his eyes and a quick tracery of emotions ran across his face. It appeared that the young inspector was already suspicious about his lady friend.
“Thank you for your insights, Madam Kitten. I will consider them carefully. And you are once again correct: I am a Catholic in a Protestant force. I have reached my present position at least a decade too early. And now I have nowhere to go. But if I were to solve this case, then it would bring my name to the attention of my superiors and even the king himself. My advancement would be guaranteed, and my lady friend’s father could not refuse me when I ask for her hand.”
“And you believe I stole the jewels?” Katherine asked bluntly.
Dermot blinked in surprise. “You are the obvious suspect.”
“Not that obvious if only you have come to that conclusion.”
“I suspected that you had paid off the others.”
“Slipping a constable a few shillings or a free ride with the girl of his choice is very different to what you are suggesting, which is bribery on an industrial scale. And, may I remind you, the jewels are both ugly and really not that valuable: Brazilian stones, rose diamonds, some emeralds, rubies, and enamel. Recently valued at just over thirty thousand pounds and worth a lot less than that if they were broken apart for the individual stones. Allow me to be definitive, Inspector: I did not take the jewels. You have my word upon it—though I am sure that the word of a woman like me carries no weight.” She watched color touch his cheeks again and wondered why.
“I understand that not all women who enter your business do so voluntarily . . .”
“None,” she snapped. “This life is not only the last resort, it is often the only resort. At least I can offer the women in my employ a roof over their heads, clean food and water, medical care and protection.” Her gloved hand waved in the direction of the street. “Practically every house in this street and those adjoining are brothels; we give employment to hundreds of girls, but there are many hundreds more on the streets who do not have the protection of a house. And why? Because the Government in Whitehall allows us to exist. It needs us.”
The inspector started to shake his head. “I cannot believe—”
“Mr. Corcoran, there are more whores in this city than in London and Manchester combined. That is because we are a garrison city, a port city. We have English regiments training in the Royal Barracks and on the Curragh, and the quays are busy with British warships and merchantmen from around the world. All those soldiers and sailors are looking for relief. It is much easier to contain them in this triangle of streets than to have them wander the city, or have the working girls mixing with the women of quality.”
The inspector sat back in the chair and licked suddenly dry lips. “I never thought . . .”
Katherine’s laugh was bitter. “Our existence suits the establishment. They may rail against us in Parliament or from the pulpit, but they come here in the evening. Would you be shocked to learn that when our present king was undergoing his military training in this city, he often visited these houses? Do you want me to show you the presents he left the girls, or the receipts he signed?”
Dermot shook his head.
“I am many things, Inspector: a madam, a thief, a liar, but I am not a hypocrite. If you have done any research on me, then you will know that my word is my bond.”
He nodded. “I heard you were to be trusted.”
Beneath the veil, Katherine smiled. “And what else did you hear?”
“I heard that you have few enemies—”
“I am sure there are a few.”
“—few enemies left alive,” he finished.
Katherine stood and crossed to the window. Through the fine lace curtains, she watched the scattering of people—mostly women and children—moving up and down the quiet street. An occasional carriage or dray moved down the dung-scattered cobbles. When darkness fell, everything would change. The street would be lined with carriages with blacked-out crests and all the houses would be ablaze with lights. “What will the police do?” she asked suddenly.
Dermot heaved out of the low chair and joined the veiled woman at the window. Standing so close to her, he could almost make out her features through the lace. Her eyes, he decided, were bright green. “Given that this area is the heart of crime in the city, I would imagine that they will flood the streets with officers. They will go house to house, interviewing everyone. There will be arrests; men like Mickey have form. He will be taken in for questioning. Doesn’t matter who you’ve paid off, this crime is too big, too public. The police will need to be seen to be doing something.”
“And how long will that last?” she asked.
“Until the jewels are found, or the public loses interest. At the very least until after the king leaves.”
“It will close down everything for weeks.”
“It will.”