Page 69 of The Detective and the Baroness

The man stepped into the room and quietly closed the door. It was then she could see clearly. Scars. Dark hair. It was Danaher.

“How did you get in, Danaher?” Corrine whispered.

“Baroness,” he tutted. “I’m a thief. I know how to pick a lock or two. I’ll make this quick. I’ve come for the money. I visited your father yesterday, and he told me of a muscled cripple who assaulted him and took his loan money. Money he got from the barony. Eighteen thousand pounds should be adequate. A proper settlement for a son long ignored.”

Corrine fought to keep her shock from showing outwardly. Her father had told Danaher everything and did not warn her? What kind of person was he? She was suddenly very glad that she’d decided to have nothing to do with him.

“I know who owns this house—I have ways of finding out what I need to know. And I know Simpson lives here. What does that annoying copper mean to you?” Danaher hissed through clenched teeth.

He means everything. “Sergeant Simpson is on medical leave, working as an investigator. I hired him to follow my husband. You know, the one you killed?”

“Watch your tone, Baroness. Sit over there.” He waved his revolver toward one of the wing chairs facing the door. “Your gobshite husband fired first. My son pushed me out of the way. So, I fired back, defending myself.”

Corrine sat in the chair. “Then tell the police that. At least there is a chance you will not swing from the gallows if you claim self-defense. If your son recovers from his injuries, he can corroborate your story.”

Danaher snorted. “You sound like a copper.”

“Or maybe you don’t care if your son recovers, since you never asked how he is doing.”

“Whether I do care or not is none of your concern. Now, the money….” Danaher murmured, watching her closely.

“Money? Let me tell you right now that I have none. I’m a dowager countess who will soon have only a small monthly stipend to live on. So I can’t help you.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “How did you discover where I was?”

“I hired a clever lad to watch the funeral procession for me. He was in a hansom cab and followed you. He stopped long enough to pick me up on the next street. And now, here I am. Who was the man with you at the funeral? It wasn’t Simpson since he uses a cane.”

“It was my younger brother.”

“Any chance he will show up here?”

“No. He left a short time ago.”

Danaher frowned. “You’re lying about the money.”

Corrine blinked rapidly. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Danaher growled. “I can tell when someone is lying. Besides, I was told you were given a generous marriage settlement. We can start there.”

How did Danaher discover that? “That is long gone. I had to pay my father’s debts. It was the reason I married Addington in the first place.” Another lie, as she still had part of the settlement left, but Danaher couldn’t know that.

“Then let us move on to the loan money. It’s here in this house, isn’t it? I’ll wager there was no time to take the money to the bank or the solicitor, so it must be tucked away in a safe. Hornsby’s family are aristos, and those toffs always have places to hide their treasures.”

Dear heaven, Danaher had guessed correctly. Corrine raised her chin defiantly, determined not to show any fear, though her insides fluttered like mad. “As I said, I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about. Even if there was a safe, I don’t have the combination.”

Danaher’s eyes narrowed. “How convenient. Then, I suppose I will stay here until Hornsby returns. Just how many men do you have under your spell, Baroness? The viscount’s doctor son and the crippled copper. Where is Simpson? And don’t tell me he went out. He wouldn’t leave you alone and unprotected.”

“If you leave now, I will not tell the police you were here. They are looking for you—the entire force. News of your criminal escapades have reached Scotland Yard and the Metropolitan Police headquarters. You should leave London. Tonight.”

I must keep Danaher talking.

“Are you trying to scare me? It’s not working, Baroness.”

“What will happen if Doctor Hornsby returns and opens this fictitious safe, and there is nothing there? Have you thought of that possibility? Do you mean to kill us as you did Travis? Doctor Hornsby will be returning here shortly. It would be best if you were gone.”

Danaher snarled. “Good. The sooner Hornsby arrives, the better. Now stop chattering and answer the question. Where is Simpson?”

Where is Mitchell?

“He went out.”