Under Cover

Chapter Two

Chapter TwoDetective Inspector Trevor Gelson squinted into the morning sun as he and Ruth sauntered the manicured paths that circled Round Pond in Kensington Gardens. Pink, white, and yellow blooms bobbed in the breeze, and unseen birds chirped and called to each other among the trees. Trevor clasped his hands behind his back and grinned. It had been days since he had seen Ruth. Between his caseload and her deadlines with the newspaper, they had to snatch time when they could get it, which wasn't often enough.

Thank you, Lord. I still can't believe Ruth cares for me. She's such a gift.

Trevor glanced at her. What would Amelia's case do to their budding relationship?

Ruth took a deep breath and spread her arms. “Thank you for this. I don't miss New Hampshire nearly as much after I've spent time in one of your beautiful parks.”

“Nearly as much?”

“You don't have any mountains.”

He grinned. “No, but we do have air raids and shortages.”

She nudged his shoulder and returned his smile. “What more could a girl wish for?”

They continued along the walkway in companionable silence. Several minutes later, they passed a stone bench on which an elderly man and little girl sat, heads bent together over a picture book. The youngster pointed at the page and chattered in a high-pitched voice.

Trevor's gaze lingered on the two for a moment before coming to rest on Ruth's face. “That reminds me; you haven't told me if you'll attend my father's birthday party. He'd very much like to meet you.”

“I know,” Ruth said as she finger-combed her hair. “What if he doesn't like me? I'm not like most women. I hate to cook and almost never clean the house.” She stopped walking and gestured to her legs. “And I wear slacks.”

A chuckle escaped Trevor's lips before he could prevent it. “You've helped the police solve two cases when you took on a corrupt company president and helped bring art smugglers to justice, yet you tremble at the thought of meeting my father. Where's that stalwart reporter I've come to know? Hmmm?”

Ruth blew out a breath. “Be serious. I'm sure I'm not what he expects, and I don't want to embarrass you.”

He turned her toward him, put a finger under her chin, and raised her head until she met his eyes. “Neither was my mother, and he fell madly in love with her. He's going to love you, too.”

Trevor nodded toward a nearby bench. They ambled to it and sat down. “She was a wonderful mum, telling me stories and playing hide-and-go-seek. She always had snacks and hugs ready for me and my chums when we came home from school. I was twelve when she died.”

“On the Titanic?”

“Yes. She was going to visit her parents: Americans, living in Boston. I almost went with her, but at the last minute, my dad changed his mind. He thought I might fall too far behind with my lessons.” The memory of his mother waving at him from the carriage when she left for Southampton filled his mind, and he swallowed heavily. “I never told you she was a suffragist. She worked tirelessly to get women the right to vote, and unfortunately she died before her work came to fruition. Many a night I fell asleep to the sound of women's voices plotting and planning their strategies. Once, to my father's chagrin, she was arrested.”

Ruth's hand flew to her mouth. “What did he say to that?”

Trevor shook his head. “I don't know. They never argued in front of me. Even though he was part of law enforcement, I think in some perverse way, he was proud of her for breaking the rules while fighting for injustice. One time, he sent me to get something in his nightstand, and I found the newspaper clipping from the arrest. She was front and center in the article's photograph. So, you see, he's not going to be shocked by anything you do. He'll probably be as intrigued as I am.”

Ruth's face pinked, and she fiddled with the clasp on her purse. “Okay, you talked me into it.”

Trevor rubbed his hands together. “Splendid! You don't need to bring anything. We're having Dad's favorite: apple crumble and coffee. I've been saving my sugar and gave it to my neighbor, Mrs. Cookson, so she could do the baking.”

“Are you sure I can't bring anything?”

“You just admitted you hate to cook,” he said with a grin. “Bring Varis, if she can get the night off. She could probably use a night out.”

“She's been working terrible hours. We hardly see each other anymore. Our lunch date with Amelia was our first social engagement in a long while. I still can't believe she's dead.”

Leaning forward, Trevor rested his arms on his thighs. “It's a terrible thing.” He cleared his throat. “I'm going to look into her death.”

A sneer crossed Ruth's face. “Even though everyone thinks she committed suicide?”

“Everyone?”

“Okay, so not everyone. Sergeant Phillips does. And I also heard the medical officer's comment about some women not being able to handle the war. Like we're all a bunch of shrinking violets. Amelia wasn't like that.”

“What was she involved in recently? Did she talk about her job? Her homelife?”

“Why? So you can prove she killed herself?”

Trevor straightened and held his hands up in surrender. “Her death is suspicious. She fell out of a window. I have to determine why.” He softened his voice. “She was your friend, but you need to prepare yourself in case I discover something you don't like.”

Ruth sagged against the bench. “Like suicide.”

The word hung between them like a black cloud, and Trevor took Ruth's hand in his. Her tear-filled eyes met his. “Ruth, you know me. I don't start a case with preconceived notions. I'm not making any assumptions about what happened to Amelia.”

A tentative smile formed on Ruth's face, and she stilled. “Then you think she might have been murdered?”

“Like I said, I make no assumptions, but I will explore all possibilities. I hate to ask you to relive her death, but anything you can tell me about what you know or saw will help.”

Ruth straightened and squeezed his hands before releasing them to retrieve a handkerchief from her purse to wipe her eyes. She tucked the creamy piece of linen back into her pocketbook and took a deep breath. “I'm ready.”

Trevor tugged down his sleeves and nodded before pulling out his notepad and pencil from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. “Start at the beginning, and I'll only interrupt if I need clarification.”

“Okay.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Varis and I hadn't seen Amelia in several weeks. We've all been so busy. The girls both work terribly long hours, so when they do get time off, all they want to do is sleep. That is, if they can get any sleep between bombing raids. Anyway, Amelia called me on Wednesday and said she had news. She asked if Varis and I could meet her for lunch yesterday. Varis was able to squeeze an hour out of her schedule, so we agreed.”

“By any chance, did she hint at what the news could be?”

Ruth frowned. “Unfortunately not.”

Trevor's pencil hovered above the paper. “Go on.”

“She called me yesterday morning to see if we were still coming. I told her we were.”

“How did she seem when she called?”

“Excited. Agitated. I'm not sure which. She's normally voluble, but she was more talkative than usual. Practically bubbling over. I wondered if she and her boyfriend, Owen, had gotten back together, and if he might have proposed. She said she couldn't wait to see us.” Ruth's forehead wrinkled. “Does that sound like someone about to kill herself?”

“I must admit, it does not. Did she say anything else?”

“Not much. Just that she would see us later.”

“Tell me what happened when you went to meet her.”

Fresh tears filled Ruth's eyes. “The time was nearly eleven thirty. That's when we were supposed to meet her. The sidewalks were crowded, and as we approached the building, I heard a scream.”

“Even with all the crowd noise?”

She nodded. “The cry was very shrill. When I looked up toward the sound, I saw her. I didn't know it was Amelia at the time. Falling. Tumbling. Her arms flailed. Like a rag doll.” Ruth bit her lip and hunched into herself, shaking her head. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It was awful.”

“I'm sure.”

Ruth shifted and stared into the distance. “Then someone called for a doctor, and I ran over to see if I could help. That's when I saw it was Amelia. Lying there with her hair fanned out around her head. Her beautiful hair.”

“Was there a doctor?”

“No, we had to wait for the ambulance.” Pain crossed her face. “She was already...gone..., anyway.”

“Can you think of anything else? Think hard. Anything unusual? There were a lot of people there, to be sure, but does anyone stand out in your mind?”

Ruth closed her eyes for a long moment, then they snapped open. “Yes! There was a man. Very tall and dark haired. He shoved past me.”

“Trying to get to the scene?”

She shook her head. “No, away from where Amelia fell. He was the only one moving against the crowd. Everyone else was running toward the building.”

Trevor leaned forward. “He ran from the accident? Ruth, are you sure? Think very carefully.”

“I'm positive. He came toward me.”

“Then we might just have a suspect.”