Page 64 of The Chef and the Countess

The two police officers who had given chase to the men entered the room.

“Did you catch them?” Morrisey asked.

“No, Sergeant. But under the street lights, I got a good look at two of them and recognized the injured one with the red hair.”

Morrisey turned to Liam. “See? We have a lead.”

“We’ve counted the money,” Northrup stated. “We each tallied it twice: four hundred forty-seven pounds, 10 shillings, and sixpence.”

“Bruce, go to the till and get enough money to bring it to 450, then divide it eight ways. The amount will be 57 pounds each.”

The same man who complained before stepped forward. “I had more than 57 pounds. And everyone at my table knows it.”

“Oh, shut it, Williams. You can afford to take the loss,” one of the men said with a sneer.

Williams took the money offered, then grabbed his coat. “Well, I won’t be returning here. It’s located in a bloody slum, anyway. I will ensure others know what a cheap, grifting card palace you run, Hallahan.” The man exited, slamming the door behind him.

The man who had spoken against Williams took his money and shoved it in his coat pocket. “It’s just as well Williams stays clear; we think he cheated, though there was no way to prove it.” The man touched his forelock. “I’ll be back tomorrow night for that free drink.”

After the rest of the patrons collected the money and departed, Liam exhaled.

“We should be going as well,” Morrisey said, tucking his notebook away. “As I said, I will keep you informed regarding the investigation. Allow the police to do their job. Please stay away from the earl and his son. Agreed?”

Grudgingly, Liam nodded. “Aye. Agreed.”

Drew came up to stand beside Liam. “The detective speaks sense, Liam.”

Liam turned to face Drew. “How is Celia?”

“It is just a scratch; regardless, she must heal. I stitched part of the wound and wrapped plasters and gauze around the gash. I suggest she stay abed for tomorrow, and after that, light duties, no heavy lifting. She must take care moving about until the injury heals, I would say two weeks at most, probably ten days. There is no sign of infection, and we certainly do not want any complications. I will come by in two days to check.”

“Drew, as always, thank you,” Liam said sincerely.

“Now, I believe I have another patient. Bruce, is it? Come and let me inspect your injury.”

The pub staff stared at Liam, looking for direction. For Liam’s part, he swung his gaze about the room, taking in the damage—broken chairs, glasses, dishes, food, and drink everywhere. Tonight was a complete loss. He glanced at the regulator clock on the wall—a quarter past nine.

“Unfortunately,” Liam said, “what happened here tonight occurs often in pubs and taverns, especially in the East End. But that is no excuse. I want you all to feel safe, and tonight, I’ve failed in that basic premise. There will be changes; Fiona and I discussed them before this disturbance occurred. I will hire more men for the pub, and any ladies who wish to move to the day staff, please let me know.”

Morrigan, his head pub waitress, raised her hand. “I’d like to move to the day staff.”

“All right, let’s meet in my office tomorrow night at half past six to discuss it.”

Morrigan nodded. Liam looked at the other three waitresses. “Anyone else?”

Two shook their heads; the third said, “Can I think about it?”

“Aye, Sally. You can. Now, we must do a clean-up for the rest of the shift. I’ll fetch the boys to assist.”

“We’re here, Liam.”

Liam turned to find Tommy, Timmy, Enya, and Hannah. “We heard the commotion, and the boys told us what happened,” Hannah said. “And we’ve come to help.”

Despite the upheaval, Liam was touched. Maybe Celia was right. They were a family. And it was time he started acting as if he were part of it.

* * *

Celia and Fiona were left alone. Awkwardness lingered about the room like a spectral apparition.