“Have they found the whore?” Martha asked.
“There was no whore.” I sighed.
“What do you mean?”
“The killer had an accomplice, and she lured Penrose upstairs, but she was no whore. Nobody had seen her before, and what whore murders her first client?”
“Then who was she?”
“I have no idea, and that’s what troubles me. We nearly found out who was behind Stephen Cooper’s death, but still know almost nothing about the case. We don’t know who his killers are, or why they killed him. We don’t even have a suspect. And thanks to Penrose’s death, the search seems near its end. Once the siege is lifted, the killers can simply flee the city and disappear forever.”
Martha cleared her throat. “I think we have to consider whether my brother might have done this. He’s killed before, and he saw us looking at Penrose.”
“But that is hardly a reason to murder,” objected Will. “Surely he doesn’t hate you enough to kill a complete stranger out of spite.”
“Lady Hodgson bested him once. If he was the one who attacked you last night, his fury at a second humiliation would know no bounds. He would have killed Penrose for the pleasure of it. The fact that it made our lives more difficult would have made it all the more enjoyable.”
“So where are we?” Will asked gloomily.
“We still have no idea who killed Stephen Cooper, or why they did so,” I said.
“And while the same people might have killed Thomas Penrose,” continued Martha, “it also might have been my brother.”
“Perhaps we need to speak with Richard Baker again,” Will suggested. “He lived with Penrose, and we could convince him to let us search the house. Who knows what we will find?”
I did not believe that going back to Penrose’s shop would yield any new information, but I didn’t have any better ideas. “Very well,” I said. “You will join us for dinner, and then we will return to the shop to talk to Richard.”
“We should bring a guard with us,” said Martha.
To my surprise, Will nodded in agreement. “She is right,” he said. “I am happy to defend you against one killer, but it now seems you have two men stalking you—Martha’s brother and whoever attacked us last night. What is more, we know that whoever killed Penrose was not alone.”
“Very well,” I said. “Sergeant Smith is on duty. We’ll ask him to accompany us.”
* * *
After we’d eaten I explained the circumstances to Sergeant Smith, and he agreed to accompany us. The four of us set out for Penrose’s shop, but when we arrived we found it locked. I peered through the windows and saw no sign of activity inside. Had Richard returned to the shop? Or had he simply disappeared after the death of his master? Will pounded on the door, and once again the tailor from next door popped his head out of his shop.
“Hello again!” he chirped. “Did you find Mr. Penrose?”
“Er, no not yet,” said Will. “I don’t suppose you have seen him or Richard since we were last here, have you?”
“No, no, not Mr. Penrose. Miss Helen came around looking for Richard. But I haven’t seen him either.”
“Who is Helen?” Will asked.
“A serving-maid. Quiet girl. Richard’s been courting her, I think.” He paused and turned to Sergeant Smith. “My, that is a handsome coat.” Smith looked bewildered and stammered out thanks. “But,” the tailor continued, “I think you can do better, and I know you’ll like what I can offer. I’m George Cawton. Come in. I’ll show you my wares.” Before Sergeant Smith could react, Cawton had his arm and pulled him into his shop. The poor sergeant looked over his shoulder at us, wondering just how this had happened.
“The tailor may not be the most observant man,” Will said with a laugh, “but I’ll wager Sergeant Smith will have a new suit of clothes before he escapes.” He took a more serious tone. “Now what do we do? Stand here until the apprentice comes back? With his master dead, he may be gone for good.”
Will’s question was a good one, and I didn’t have a ready answer.
“We only wanted to find Richard so he could let us into the shop,” said Martha. “Perhaps we can find another way in.” She peered at me hopefully. Will looked confused, but I understood well enough.
“Do you have your tools?” I asked.
She smiled and nodded. “I thought we might need them once inside, but they’ll work on the front door as well.”
“Will,” I said, “stand over here next to me, in front of the door.” Still unsure what was happening, Will moved in front of the door, and Martha stooped to peer at the lock.