Chapter 3
Monday, January 10, 1887The porter had just taken charge of our luggage on the platform at Union Depot when I spotted Frank Wynch’s tall, lean form shouldering through the crowd.
I turned to Miss Pelley, who was offering her handkerchief to Anna—the coal smoke was thick today—and gave her a nudge. “I’ll be back in a moment. Wait here.”
His forehead smoothed in relief when he caught sight of me. “I feared I missed you.”
“The train is due any minute now. What’s wrong?”
He passed me an envelope. “Information about the man who was watching your house and the Zaleskis’. Name’s Leonard Crill. He’s definitely not from the police, but we don’t know who has hired him or why.”
“Who was he watching? The Zaleskis or Miss Pelley?”
He shrugged. “Either one is a possibility. Or he could
