“Our killer has proven he will take risks. He shot Mr. Montgomery at his place of business with workers about. He killed the anarchist Pietro Todisco, probably to avoid being discovered in the mill at night—though what our killer was looking for, I cannot imagine. Did the anarchist know something, or was he in the wrong place at the wrong time? And the killer lured me to the mill to try to murder me and nearly accomplished the job.”

Daniel probed his sore jaw with a careful finger. Ed was the only one he had told about his near demise. “Desperate men do desperate things. I have to wonder what the motive is, what secret he is willing to kill for to protect.”

“At the moment, our greater concern should be to guard Mr. Coombe. I think we should set our own watch rather than rely on the hospital personnel to guard him.”

“Agreed. And I know just the man for the task.”

Ed accompanied him to Owen Wilkinson’s residence. Daniel had not known where Owen lived, but the closer they rode to his home, the worse Daniel felt. Ed had hailed a carriage, and they had ridden across the river to the south side and into a cramped, crowded, poor neighborhood. When the vehicle stopped, they were still several blocks from their destination, but the driver refused to go any farther.

“How does Owen get to work each day?” Daniel asked. They were miles from Bow Street.

“Walks. And he’s the first to arrive and often the last to go home.”

Daniel’s spirits sank lower. He had rarely had a kind word for the office boy, responding in kind to the sarcasm and resentment that came his way.

Thankful that Ed carried a lantern, Daniel followed down a narrow path that opened onto a small square. A well stood in the middle of the square, and small houses stood cheek by jowl around it.

“This is the one.” Ed knocked on a water-warped door.

Owen opened it cautiously, and his eyes widened. “Mr. Beck. Is something wrong?”

“Nay, lad. Might we come inside for a bit?”

Slowly, as if he would have preferred them not to have come, Owen opened the door wide enough for them to enter the single small room. The flue must not draw properly, because a smoky haze hung in the room. The fire barely warmed one corner.