The Murder Next Door: A Queer Historical Mystery by Sarah Bell

Author:Sarah Bell [Bell, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-04T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

A Safe Hiding Place?

At least Ada had remembered her brolly this time. Well, Louisa had reminded her to take an umbrella. Unseasonably cold rain battered the oiled cotton canopy, and the constant drumming only fuelled Ada’s frustration.

She marched through town with Davey at her side. He didn’t even need to break stride to keep up with her furious pace, which only irritated her more.

She and Louisa had a plan: find the missing boys and let the police deal with Mrs Pearce. To that end, they had talked through how best to proceed over a companionable breakfast. The plan lasted until the shrill of the telephone brought Sophie scurrying into the dining room, telling them Constable Wilkinson was on the line. And so instead, Ada was storming through town and clinging to a brolly in a doomed attempt to remain dry.

‘I thought you wanted to know more about this case?’ Davey asked her. ‘That’s why you were sneaking around crime scenes and reading police files.’

That stopped Ada short, and she turned to stare up at him. ‘You know about that?’

Rain ran in torrents down his helmet, and the navy blue of his constable’s jacket was so wet it looked black, yet he stood there stoic as though he wasn’t getting soaked through to the bone.

‘Inspector Lambert told me and made it clear we’re both on our last warning.’

‘Both?’

‘I saw you at a crime scene, and I didn’t report it.’

‘Goodwin did.’

Davey snorted. ‘Yeah, we should have seen that coming.’

‘If Inspector Lambert’s so cross, why am I here?’ And not with Louisa like I should be.

Davey mimicked Inspector Lambert’s staid voice. ‘We’re chasing every possible lead by utilising all available resources.’ He swapped back to his own voice to add, ‘Or at least that’s what he’ll put in his report.’

‘Well, look at that. He’s finally found a use for women. Who knows, maybe we’ll make a male suffragette out of him yet.’

Davey laughed deeply. ‘Yeah, I don’t think that’ll happen.’

‘No, but it’s fun to imagine.’

The two shared a smile.

‘Come on.’ Davey set off again. ‘I want to get the hell out of this rain.’

‘I offered to share the brolly.’

‘How would that work? Me under your brolly. Going to walk across town on my knees? That’d be a sight.’

Ada scowled as they crossed Centenary Street, narrowly avoiding a speeding motor car whose uniformed chauffeur sent them a rude hand gesture. Clearly, he didn’t have a passenger.

The municipal buildings and the art gallery stood to their right. A part of Ada wanted to give up this whole damn idea and walk the well-trodden halls of the gallery instead, dreaming of the day her work would be displayed there. But that wasn’t an option.

They turned the corner onto Calverley Street, the town hall and its clock tower looming to their left. Davey continued to talk, but Ada grew more sober the closer they got to their destination.

The building they stopped at looked like any innocuous office. Anyone passing who didn’t stop to examine the little metal plate fixed to the blue front door would walk past thinking it exactly that.

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