Read Online Mrs. Jeffries and the One Who Got Away by Emily Brightwell - Free Book Online

to exaggeration, Mrs. Jeffries frowned at his back as she hurried after him. She said nothing as he settled into his favorite chair, and she poured both of them a glass of sherry. “Here you are, sir.” She handed him a glass of his favorite drink,
Harvey’s Bristol Cream sherry
.
    Witherspoon tossed it down his throat and handed her the glass. “As I said, it has been a very incredible day. Another, please.”
    â€œOf course, sir.” She smiled as if his knocking back a glass of spirits in one gulp was the most usual thing in the world. She poured him another and brought it back to his chair. “Here you are, sir. Gracious, sir, you look exhausted. Why don’t you tell me what happened today.”
    They had long established this pattern; he always told her about his cases and she, in turn, did her best to bolster his confidence. She took her seat and waited.
    He said nothing for a few moments then, finally, he said, “Constable Barnes and I were sent to Highgate Cemetery today. The instructions from Barrows were that we were to go there to consult. When we got there, the inspector in charge of the case wasn’t all that happy to see us, but nonetheless, we did our duty.”
    Mrs. Jeffries watched him with growing concern. There was something wrong. She’d never seen the inspector like this.
    â€œThe victim was a woman named Alice Robinson,” he continued. “She owned a lodging house nearby and had been identified by a local constable. I couldn’t quite understand why they’d called me to the scene, but when I got there, it became obvious.” He told her about the newspaper clipping.
    Mrs. Jeffries went perfectly still. She had a feeling that there was more to come.
    â€œBut that wasn’t the biggest surprise.” He took another sip. “When I finally looked at the body, I realized that this woman wasn’t who everyone thought she was.”
    â€œWho was she, sir?”
    â€œEdith Durant.” His voice was a mere whisper.
    Mrs. Jeffries drew a quick, uneven breath and then struggled to bring herself under control before he could notice that his announcement had knocked the wind out of her sails. But her efforts to appear calm were not needed, as the inspector wasn’t looking at her, but was staring into the distance with a faraway look in his eyes.
    â€œOdd, isn’t it,” he muttered. “How one reacts when faced with a circumstance one never thought to see. I honestly thought I’d never see or hear of her again. Yet she’s been right here in London for almost two years, practically under my very nose.”
    â€œBut as you said, sir, you were called to another district, to Highgate. That’s nowhere near where you’d have a chance of spotting her.”
    He didn’t seem to hear her. “She’s the one that got away, Mrs. Jeffries. She was my greatest failure, which is strange, really, when I never expected to be a success.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, sir?” Right now, she wished she’d poured herself another drink; she had a feeling she might need it.
    He looked at her and smiled faintly. “Oh, come now, Mrs. Jeffries, I’m hardly the sort of person that anyone would ever think would end up a policeman. I only got taken onto the police force because my aunt Euphemia used her influence on my behalf. But I wasn’t a very good street constable and, well, that’s why I ended up in charge of the Records Room. But when I started solving murders, when I started actually catching killers, I began to think that perhaps I was good at the job and that I was doing what the Almighty meant me to do.”
    â€œThat’s true, sir,” she insisted. “You are excellent at the job, and you’ve caught more murderers than anyone in the history of the Metropolitan Police Department, and you were a good policeman even before you solved those awful Kensington High Street murders.