We got from Buckingham to Parliament in less than ten minutes and signed in with a captain of the Irish Guard, a portly older man named Brady. He was indeed expecting us and took us immediately to the basement of the building, where rows of discrete little offices lined either side of a vast hallway. He brought us to a small cubby with a single desk and two chairs and beckoned us to settle in. “I’ve been informed ya only need ta see Sergeant Mulrooney, is that right?”
“It is,” Colin answered. “We won’t take but a few minutes of his time.”
“Well, see to it. They ain’t payin’ us ta be idle.”
“Of course.” Colin smiled as he settled into one of the chairs. “But might I trouble you with one quick question before you go?”
Captain Brady gave a quick exhalation. “I s’pose.”
“Are you familiar with a tavern fight that took place some months back with some men from the Life Guard that cost a captain his life?”
The man’s face puckered. “You talkin’ about McPhee’s . . . ?”
Colin maintained a look of naïveté. “Yes, I do believe that was the name of the place.”
“Wot of it?”
“Can you tell me anything about it? How it started, perhaps?”
The captain thrust his hands on his ample hips. “Is that why ya come here? Ta ask about that rot? Well, I’ll tell ya somethin’. I lost three good men ’cause a that bloody row. The lot a them booted outta my regiment. And you know what I say . . . ?” He leaned forward, coming precariously close to Colin’s face. “My men were all noncoms while that lot a Life Guarders were almost all officers. Now who do ya think shoulda been held responsible fer a thing like that? I’ll tell ya what I think.” He forged on without waiting for a reply. “Them that earned the titles, that’s who.” He glared at Colin a moment before straightening up and turning to the door. “I’ll send Mulrooney down. Just see ya don’t waste his time.” And with that, he was gone.
“I’ve never seen anyone so passionately not answer my question,” Colin said with a scowl.
“I guess it’s to be expected. Still, you were the epitome of decorum while he ranted. I’m proud of you.”
“I’d be prouder if I had ceased his rant with my boot,” he grumbled.
“Come now,” I reminded. “You’ll get more aid with berries than brambles.” He flicked his eyes to me and I could see he was in no mood for my grandmother’s chestnuts.
Not more than a minute later Thomas Mulrooney joined us, a grimace already set upon his face. I could see he was a young man, not yet over the quarter-century mark, with a broad, otherwise handsome face, a solid frame, and close-cropped deep brown hair. His visage was so sour that at first I thought perhaps he had stumbled on his way into the room before I realized that the sourness was, in fact, meant for us. Whatever he contrived might be our motivation to speak with him, it was clear it made him unhappy.
“Sergeant Mulrooney . . . ,” Colin began, waving toward the chair he had just vacated.
“What’s this about?!” the sergeant snapped back, standing firm just inside the doorway. “I don’t appreciate being summoned when I’m in the middle of my shift.”
Colin’s eyebrows inched up. “We have come about your sister,” he said flatly.
“Gwendolyn?” He shook his head but held Colin’s gaze. “Gwendolyn is dead. Will that be all?”
“Have I done something to offend you, Sergeant?” Colin pressed with remarkable restraint.
“Offend me?” he scoffed.
“I have been hired by Her Majesty’s Life Guard to ensure that justice is brought to bear in the murders of your sister and brother-in-law, and yet—”
“Justice?!” he sneered. “And what would those British bastards know about justice? They’re tossers, they are, every one of them.”
“Nevertheless,” Colin started again, “they have hired me to—”
“Be their lapdog!” the sergeant snarled. “That bunch of degenerate trolls doesn’t want justice. They’re too busy hiding behind their skirts. I wouldn’t piss on them to save their lives.”
“And your sister . . . ?”
The question seemed to catch him, just as I knew Colin had intended it to, causing him to draw a labored breath before he answered. “My sister made her own choices and look where it got her. She was stubborn and foolish. At least her boy will have a chance at a new life now. I’m taking him back to County Cork to be raised by my mum.”
“Do you know how your sister died, Sergeant?”
The young man’s face went very still. “She was shot, Mr. Pendragon, facing the wrong way. Just like she lived her life.”
“An interesting detail for you to have, given that the press has yet to be informed of that fact.”
For an instant the sergeant looked taken aback before quickly recovering. “I’m done here, Mr. Pendragon. Will that be all?”
“I have heard you had some issue with Captain Bellingham—”
“Trevor was a liar and a fraud. Anyone could see that. Anyone with half a mind.”
“But your sister—”
“There was no reasoning with my sister,” he shot back. “Gwendolyn made her choice and it cost her her life.”
“What if I told you your sister was having an affair with one of the guardsmen?”
“I only hope she was,” he sneered.
Colin stared at him a moment before dismissing him with the wave of a hand. “That will be all.” Sergeant Mulrooney didn’t need to be told twice, as he quickly disappeared from the room without a further word. “What in the hell was that all about?!” Colin groused as he sat back down.
“It seems we have finally found someone who did not admire the sainted Captain Bellingham.”
“But why such vitriol?” He swept a crown out of his pocket and began worrying it between the fingers of his right hand. “It’s almost noon and I’m more confounded by this case than I was this morning.”
“Confounded? The man practically handed you an entreaty for murder. It’s obvious he hated his brother-in-law and had little kindness for his sister. And what do you make of that bit about how he knew she’d been shot from behind? It would all seem to suggest—”
He caught the rapidly flipping coin and stared at me. “Do you really think it will be so easy, Ethan? That he will just deliver himself into our hands?”
“Why couldn’t it be that simple?”
He continued to stare at me as though my brains had abruptly liquefied. “Have you never worked a case with me before?”
“Sometimes a thing can be just what it seems,” I said rather more defensively than I had intended.
“Are you trying to help solve this case or just look for the easiest possible solution?”
“I mean to be helpful.”
“Well, you’re not.”
I knew he was under enormous pressure, but such was the state of my ego that I could not stop myself from blurting out, “Then perhaps you would prefer if I left you on your own until Friday.”
“Perhaps that would be best,” he sallied right back as he got up and headed out the door.