Chapter 2 – The Policeman

The Aubrey-Serrs town house sat on the edge of a large park. This was not a lucky coincidence. Almost a century ago, the Aubrey family had donated it to the city as a public garden. The family still called it “our park,” but Eleanor thought of it as hers because she walked it almost every day. She knew every path, every plant, every bird, and all the gardeners. They touched their hats whenever they saw her.

She usually felt more alive and calm after her walks, but that morning, she’d been too distracted by her own thoughts to enjoy it. She found herself back at her house, and she wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there.

A man was standing outside the gate, assessing the mansion beyond. He had wavy, dark hair and wore a dark suit that might have been out of fashion considering the season, but it was hard to ever think of a conservatively cut dark suit as out of fashion.

Eleanor muttered “excuse me,” edged by him, and opened the gate.

She stopped, affronted, when she felt a touch on her arm.

“Excuse me, are you Lady Aubrey-Serrs?”

Eleanor pressed her lips together so hard they all but disappeared. She pulled her arm away from his touch and walked into the yard without saying anything.

The man followed her. She quickened her step.

“No, it’s Lady Serrs, isn’t it?” he said. “I apologize.”

“You’re a reporter,” Eleanor said over her shoulder.

“I’m not,” the man protested.

“Who else would accost a woman without any introduction?”

“There was no one else around to introduce us, and—hang it!” He ran three paces so he could catch up to her side. “I’m not a reporter.” She stopped to look at him. “There are other professions that require a man to act boldly.” He held up a deformed leather wallet and opened it, revealing the metal badge pinned inside.

Eleanor reached out and took the wallet to get a better look at the badge. She’d never seen one before.

“You’re a policeman?”

The man nodded.

“Aren’t you supposed to wear it on your uniform?”

“I’m not that kind of policeman.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that walks around in uniform. Are you Miss—sorry—Lady Serrs?”

“Miss is fine—though, not around my father.” She folded the wallet and returned it. “I’m sorry I called you a reporter.”

“Well, a policeman is hardly better, but one hates to be mistaken for one’s enemy.”

This line was delivered in a serious tone, but there was a tension in his cheek and a flash in his eyes that made Eleanor think he was being playful.

He bowed his head. “I’m Lucas Haley. The chief constable sent me after your father called this morning.”

“Then you better come inside, Officer.”

“A moment, if you don’t mind.” Once again he touched her arm. This time he saw her eyes dart down to his fingers. He removed them and muttered an apology. Then he said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you some awkward questions, and I’d rather ask you alone.”

Eleanor turned to face him. “Awkward questions? What for?”

“I’m sorry. It’s part of my duty.”

She waited for more details, but he only watched her.

“All right.” She motioned to the yard. “There’s a bench off the path.”

Eleanor led the way.

Haley waited until she was seated before he said, “Miss Serrs, your father told the chief constable that you didn’t have those invitations printed. I need to know if that’s true.”

At first, Eleanor couldn’t even understand the question. When its significance finally breached her guileless nature, a cold anger settled through her body.

“Mr. Haley, I did not have them printed, and I certainly didn’t have them sent.”

“You know nothing about them?”

“Nothing.”

“What did you think when you saw them?”

“I thought it was a very poor joke.”

“A joke? By someone you know?”

Eleanor opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. She shut it and lowered her eyes as she considered the question. Haley waited.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. She looked up. “But I can’t imagine anyone I know doing such a thing.”

“No one?”

“I don’t have many friends, and I can’t see someone going this far to tease an acquaintance.”

“Could someone have done it maliciously?”

The previous question had shocked her like a glass of cold water thrown in her face; this question felt more like being slapped. Hard.

“No! No, I—I hope I’ve never done anything to warrant that kind of animosity.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Lucas studied her, then said, “You said you hadn’t thought of it. Have you been thinking about the situation, Miss Serrs?”

“I’ve been thinking of almost nothing else.”

“Have you come to any conclusions?”

“It’s hard to know anything for certain, but I’m worried it’s a trick by Penn to somehow gain access to my father’s fortune.”

“Yes. That’s what worries me—and what worries your father.”

“But how would doing this help?”

“The first thing that occurs to me is bribery. He may promise to stop the harassment if your father pays.”

“Then Mr. Penn doesn’t know my father.”

“Does he know you?”

“What?”

“Have you met him?”

“No. We’re not friends. We’re not acquaintances. I have not led him on, nor given him any hint of a promise. I have never even met the man!”

Haley quietly said, “I believe you, Miss Serrs.”

Eleanor realized her emotions were telling too much in her voice and took a breath. “I’m sorry. It never occurred to me that people might think I did this. I find it…humiliating.”

“I understand. These circumstances are bound to be upsetting. I apologize, but—”

“That’s not necessary. I know you have to explore every possibility. I’m more ashamed that I didn’t realize these questions would need to be asked. That was stupid of me.”

“Not at all. Most people find it difficult to imagine themselves acting outside of their own character.” Haley offered his arm to help her rise.

Eleanor took it to show she had no hard feelings toward him, but she only held it long enough to get to her feet.

As they made their way toward the house, Haley said, “You shouldn’t be too certain that you haven’t met Mr. Penn.”

His voice had lost its official weight. It sounded more easy and conversational.

“I think I would remember meeting someone so famous,” Eleanor said.

“Ryce Penn is a master of disguise. I have a photo of his natural face, and I’ve held him by the collar three times. None of the four men looked the same.”

“You’ve had him in hand three times, but he’s still at large?”

A hint of red crept up Haley’s cheeks. “I admit, I wasn’t ready for how he’d fight. He managed to best me each time.” Haley rushed past his confession. “Anyway, you may have met him and not known it. You may have thought you were passing the time with an old friend. I’ve learned to be careful.”

“You hunt him often?”

“I’m specially assigned to him.”

“It must be gratifying to know he has his own personal policeman.”

“He’s said it’s an insult—that he used to have all of us assigned to him.”

“And he could be disguised as anyone?”