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Laughter and expressions of gratitude filled the air of Detective Inspector Wellington’s office as police officers filed in one by one, milling around to partake of the baked delights from Arabella’s restaurant. Arabella smiled sweetly soaking up the praise as if she herself had made the sweet confections that were heaped upon the crystal platters.
Arabella moved among the officers to positioned herself closer to William with eyes gazing up at his and teased “Is there anything you like in particular, Detective?”
William, fully aware of the double meaning in her question, took the high road and commented only on the pastries. “There is this delight” he replied after swallowing a delectable bite and gestured to the small, powdered sugar covered cake in his hand “It has a raspberry jam filling, am I correct?”
Arabella noted he did not take the bait of her question and she retreated, if only for the moment, and replied. “Yes, very good inspector! Your skills at detection are not just limited to policework I see.” She complimented him and then added “You must return to the restaurant and try all of the wonders from our pastry chef. He is from Paris, you see. I insist you come as my guest! We will have a sumptuous dinner followed by exquisite desserts.”
William smiled and nodded in appreciation, “Why thank you. I will make a point to return to the restaurant.”
She glided forward closing the small gap between them and raising her face close to his ear with words meant only for him whispered “Make it soon.” Gone was the demure look of innocence and wholesome good cheer that marked her entrance and bestowed upon all in the room. Her eyes now smoldered with desire and promise of what could be in store for the inspector.
William felt his face flush and a sensation rushed through him that he felt once before in her presence. It was in her restaurant when she invited him to call her by her first name he felt it. He made no reply nor did he allow his face to reveal that he was indeed taken by her beauty and found her forwardness enticing. He knew it best to remove himself politely and quickly from further engagement with the beguiling Mrs. Acaster. Nevertheless, here he was, in his own office, feeling that same strong attraction and the best offensive response he had was to look down at the cake morsel that remained in his hand and pop it into his mouth. He stabilized himself enough to waive to one of the officers to come forward “Barnes can we get some tea for Mrs. Acaster” he ordered.
“Please do not trouble yourself Inspector. I must return for the seating of the dinner service” she stated with an air of importance while adjusting the fingers of the gloves on her hands.
After announcing her leave, Arabella gracefully gathered her gown in hand and amidst the soft swishing sound of the silk and satin glided to the door pausing at the threshold. She looked over her shoulder at William smiled and winked. William nodded and allowed only the faintest of smiles to appear at his lips. Then in a whirl and in the same dramatic way that she entered, Arabella departed with the waiter from her establishment following closely behind.
It was a matter of minutes before the delicacies were devoured and the quiet was restored to Wellington’s office as the men returned to their stations. All save one who remained licking at the sticky jam filling coating his fingers. Wellington turned to find Detective Fitzroy still present standing behind his desk. With brow furrowed and eyes squinted Wellington barked “Have you nothing else to do man?’ Shaken from his daydreaming, Fitzroy jumped and quickly made his way out the door to be about the afternoon’s work.
William looked about his office and down at the mess on his desk, crumbs, powdered sugar and the two empty dessert platters and their domed covers. He swiped at the crumbs with an open hand scattering them to the floor and busied himself removing the crystal to another spot in his office. He would have one of his men drop them off at Arabella’s restaurant tomorrow, he thought. Then again, there was that personal invitation to dinner giving him the perfect excuse to drop them off himself, he paused stroking his beard while pondering the idea. He walked toward the empty desk in the corner and froze in mid stride as he saw the pink cake box perched on the edge. He closed his eyes and grimaced as he remembered its contents and where it had come from. He cursed under his breath, shook his head and on an exhalation said “Oh Eliza.” He sat the platters down and placed his hands around the circumference of the box, fiddling with the ribbon at its base. A deep sigh escaped his lips as his head dropped down in contemplation of what had just taken place in his office and more importantly wondering how he would ever make this matter right with Eliza.
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1 hour earlier
Eliza quickly and protectively gripped the cake box bearing the Victorian sponge as it was about to be unceremoniously displaced by the elegantly presented and undoubtedly delicious patisseries from Arabella’s restaurant. Eliza stepped back from William’s desk feeling very much like an outsider as Arabella once again inserted herself in her life and upstaged her in an area where her talents far outshined those of Eliza. Not only were the officers enthralled by the sweets, she noted that William too appeared to be taken in by her charms. What Eliza felt at that moment was hard to describe but it felt like being kicked in her abdomen and the air violently escaping her body as she watched him fawn over the baked goods and return Arabella's smiles with his own full teeth grin. A sickening feeling seized her accompanied by a slight dizziness and Eliza hoped and prayed that this sensation would not result in her fainting. She simply could not faint in front of that woman. Eliza’s dazed state was interrupted by Arabella repeating a question.
“So will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening, Eliza?”
Eliza blinked and shook herself back to consciousness and replied “I just remembered; I have another engagement tomorrow evening. Perhaps another time.”
“Very well, another time,” Arabella responded and cheerfully turned her attention back toward William who was fully enraptured by some confection he had just tasted.
Eliza looked around the office observing all the smiling, jovial faces. She couldn’t blame the officers for enjoying being noticed and favored with a token of thanks for their bravery and hard work. But William’s behavior, now that was another matter. Why was William so besotted, so taken with this woman? To be honest Eliza knew this was not just any woman. This was the same person who much of her childhood bullied, teased, and bested her at every turn. This very same woman has reappeared in her life and once again coveting that which Eliza holds dear. William was Eliza’s close friend and possibly something more. Arabella very clearly had set her sights and designs on William.
Women like Arabella were expert in the art of attracting men. They were groomed to be perfect young ladies and be the delight and adornment of men. Many like Arabella also had the natural looks combined with their feminine charms used to full advantage would captivate almost any man. There she was fine figure arranged in the loveliest attire and jewels. The package that is Arabella was finished with a pretty bow of coquettish laughter, flattering conversation and flirtatious batting of the eyes. Eliza could see that William, despite all his bravado, had succumb to the spell of bewitching Arabella.
Eliza backed out of William’s office and hurried down the hall to exit the building. Once into the coolness of the fall air, she composed herself leaning against the solid brick front of the Scotland Yard to take some deep, mind-clearing breaths.
As Eliza slowly strolled to her office, the whole nightmare that is Arabella played out in her head. From the worst childhood pranks to what had just transpired in William’s office.
She suppressed the urge to scream with the full volume of her voice lest everyone on the London street think she mad. Oh, how she disliked that woman. She gritted her teeth, took some more deep breaths and then picked up her pace moving rapidly through the last few blocks of the busy city street, up the stairs to the sanctuary of her office.
Eliza made a fire and dropped into the leather chair by the hearth and sat staring at the flames when the realization washed over her that she, Eliza, could share blame for that woman forging headfirst in her pursuit of William. Was it not both she and William who emphatically declared they were not married and for that much not even a couple when they revealed they were investigating jewel thefts of patrons frequenting her establishment. Why the door was thrown open at that moment as an invitation to Arabella that William was fair game. Her mind continued to play out memories past and present of Arabella when the sound of familiar footfalls and one knock on the door diverted her attention and she rose to face Moses meandering slowly into the office.
He greeted her with his usual wry grin that indicated he had knowledge of something that would please her and stated, “I have some information for you.” Her disposition quickly changed from dour to enthusiastic and she responded, “What have you found?” Her eyes brightened as she scanned his face in anticipation of Moses’ next words.
“Charles Percival has been spotted in France.” He purred while slowly removing some folded papers from his inner jacket pocket and handing them to her.
Eliza eagerly grabbed the papers from his hand and they both moved to the front of the desk where they huddled to discuss the map, a train schedule and a paper with some scribblings they spread before them.
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Later that evening
Wellington managed to exit the Yard that day using the cover of nightfall to hide that he was in possession of a pink cake box. He paused only briefly at his carriage door and gave instructions to his driver, and placing the box on the seat, he climbed inside and settled in beside it.
The carriage lurched forward and he stared out the window into the darkness thinking of what had occurred in his office that afternoon. Eliza was so excited to share her new baking skills with him he recalled now turning his attention to the box. She was so proud to have created the Victorian sponge with her own hands, but she confessed it was under the watchful eye and coaching of Ivy. She apologized for it not being the prettiest tort, but even William had to admit, it looked surprisingly edible, and he was anxious to try it. It even occurred to him to call for tea and enjoy this special moment and celebrate this accomplishment with her right then and there. He knew that would please her but in the same instant as his thought, Arabella arrived in a dramatic fashion with treats for the entire department and the moment to celebrate Eliza vanished.
He looked back out the window and shook his head with a pang of remorse about how his attention was so quickly diverted by the beautiful restaurateur bearing sweets. Was he really that shallow, he thought. Apparently he was that shallow because he forgot Eliza was even there nor that she had quietly taken her leave of the place until he noticed the abandoned cake box.
The carriage rounded the bend and arrived in front of the various shops and the office of ‘Mr. Henry Scarlet’. He stepped out of the carriage and looked up to the second-floor window and did not see the glow of a lamp light to indicate she was there working. The thought immediately came to mind to call upon her at home. The lateness of the hour did not matter. Eliza and Ivy were used to him calling at all hours and this would be no different except this was not the usual social call but one where he would need to make an apology to a dear, old friend.
Arthur, the carriage driver, saw his boss turn back toward the carriage, and though he knew the Detective’s patterns well enough of what came next when he didn’t find Miss Scarlet at her office. Still he didn’t presumptuously ask if the inspector wanted to be taken to the Scarlet residence, but offered, “Home Sir?” William opened the door to reenter the carriage, paused and corrected him, “No, to the Scarlet home, please.” “Yes Sir,” Arthur replied in an even tone. Then with a knowing smile on his lips, he uttered a single command and with a snap on the reins guided the carriage forward on its way to #7 - the Scarlet residence.
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William climbed the steps leading up to the red door of #7 all the while rehearsing what he would say to Eliza. What he came up with in the way of apology was not playing out so well in his head but at least he was there to apologize and that had to account for something in her eyes, he reasoned. He knocked and waited. A few moments passed and he knocked again and finally Ivy appeared in bed clothes and a sleeping cap tightly gripping the robe about her neck to make sure nothing was exposed.
“Detective Wellington what are you doing here at this hour?” Ivy exclaimed wide-eyed, slowly opening the door beckoning him inside.
William looked at his pocket watch and noted it was 10:40, perhaps it was a little late to call after all, but he knew he would get no rest this night if he did not at least try to address the situation that took place earlier.
“My apologies Ivy for the lateness of the call, but I need to speak with Eliza on a matter of some importance. Has she retired for the evening?”
“No Inspector,” Ivy started with a sigh and continued, “You know that girl. She gets an idea in her head and she won’t let it rest until she is satisfied.”
When Ivy responded in that way he knew Eliza was off on some pursuit of a lead she has discovered for a case. It also meant that there was some danger involved. There was always some danger involved and that made his head hurt just thinking about what she may be up to. William momentarily pursed his lips to temper his response and while rubbing his forehead and temple he asked, “I take it she is not here. What is she up to now Ivy?”
“She is on the trail of some con-man who swindled some rich gentleman out of a large sum of money. This gentleman will pay a very handsome fee to the person who is successful in the capture and arrest of the scoundrel. So, she left on a train earlier today to catch a cargo boat to France and then a carriage to some mountain village where he was last seen.” Ivy explained while using her hands to count through the means of transportation Eliza would take in her pursuit.
William continued to massage his forehead, eyes, and the bridge of his nose as Ivy described Eliza’s adventure.
“I made her promise she would wire me once she arrived at her destination.” Ivy finished with a sigh and wringing her hands.
By this time William had regained enough composure to speak, “Good thinking Ivy and the moment you hear from her, please send me word.” William clasped both her shoulders and gave her them a reassuring squeeze as he saw tears pool in the older woman’s eyes.
“If something happens to that girl, why I don’t know what I will do” she sobbed with the tears now flowing down her face. William understood Ivy’s pain because he felt the same way. Each time Eliza put herself in the center of violence and danger it was like knife in his gut. He worried about her every single day and the only advantage was that she was still in London where he could come to her aid if she needed it. This was all together different. She was in another country where he had no police authority and only a few connections in the Paris office. He knew he could not reveal his own worry to Ivy and add to her distress so his next words had to be those of reassurance.
“Now Ivy, we know she can get herself into some sticky situations sometimes. But we also know she is a very fine and capable detective. She just can’t know we will have our eyes on her, eh!” he concluded with a smile and a wink. Ivy looked up at him and returned his smile with a weak smile of her own.
“Now wipe those tears and get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow. All will be well.”
Ivy nodded and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and in a voice that was part relief and part surrender to the situation she said quietly, “Thank you William.”
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With the pink cake box as his companion, William made the ride home all the while thinking about Eliza. Upon arriving in front of the dark house, he collected the box, exited the carriage and bid Arthur goodnight. Wearily climbing the steps to his modest dwelling, he contemplated Eliza latest adventure. He turned the key and opened the door and absentmindedly placed the box on the table in the entryway, removed his coat and hung it on a hook followed immediately by his hat.
Where could she be and what is she up to? He wondered. He lit the lamps in the hallway and made his way to the small but well-kept kitchen, cake box in hand. His thought was only to leave the cake on the table and make his way to bed. It was then his stomach growled loudly reminding him he had not had any supper.
He realized then not only how weary he was but hungry as well. He had a sandwich and a beer around mid-day with Fitzroy at a pub near the Yard. An exceedingly heavy case load kept him so busy that he worked through supper time. He looked over at the cake box, grabbed a fork from the drawer and hesitantly removed the lid. The cake's butter cream had begun to melt causing one of the layers to slide off to the side. This caused some of the fresh berries that had sat atop like a crown to cascade down to the base of the cake. So while it did not look as appetizing as it did earlier that day, there was nothing else to eat and he was ravenous.
He straddled a chair at his small table and dug into the cake. Much to his surprise, the cake was light with a delicate sweetness about it and combined with the berries was a pleasant sensation to his palate. William continued to shovel forkfuls of the Victorian sponge into his mouth and a smile formed on his lips. He thought about how he had so often teased Eliza about how woeful her cooking skills were. He would have to compliment her on a job well done the next time he saw her. Then it hit him. The next time he saw her! When would he see her again?
“Aaargh,” he growled dropping the fork on the table. He kicked the chair back and stood up and started pacing the small area of the kitchen. Yes, the next time her saw her he pondered. God only knows when that would be.
“Oh Eliza what have you gotten yourself into now?” he asked into the darkness not expecting an answer or a revelation. William stopped pacing determined he would start his own search in the morning for Eliza no matter if he got a report from Ivy or not.
He covered the remainder of the cake and placed it in the icebox. The dull headache that usually occurred when he thought about Eliza and her capers reappeared and he started to massage his temples and the bridge of his nose in hope of some relief. Then grabbing the lamp, William trudged upstairs to his bed although it was a certainty he’d get very little sleep this night.
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