“Your parents are headed to France, and I’ve been given the task of investigating our congenial Mr. Finch. Hopefully, he is more talk than action. You can dodge or accept the attentions of the German and continue your training.” Bertie looked satisfied with his tidy summing-up of their roles.

Juliette retreated to her bedroom. As she prepared for dinner, tilting her head as her maid pinned her brown curls up, Juliette stared at her reflection in the lamp-lit mirror. But instead of her own image there, she saw Agatha’s. The grief-stricken eyes, the pale face, the bewildered slackness to her mouth.

What would Juliette want if it had been her father killed? She would want justice. She would want help. She would want anyone who could aid her to get to work.

She could not refuse. She owed Agatha so much.

Chapter 4

THE DAY AFTER THE MILL explosion, Daniel approached the coroner’s office. He was more at ease than he had been the first time he had visited, but he couldn’t say he looked forward to the experience. The cold yellow brick and plain boxlike exterior seemed so fitting for the tasks undertaken within. His last excursion to this place had been to witness the autopsy of an art dealer who had gotten himself stabbed to death by a traitorous spy who had ransacked his gallery to hide his real crimes. This time, however, Daniel must learn more about the death of a man he’d actually met while he was alive.

Owen Wilkinson sauntered at Daniel’s heels, hands thrust into his trouser pockets, acting as if he hadn’t a care in the world. A touch of anticipation feathered across Daniel’s skin. Owen needed taking down a peg or two. The experience ahead of him might be just the thing.

The same insouciant clerk from before sat at the desk inside the door, but this time he shrugged and jerked his thumb to the hallway behind him. “Been waiting for you.”

Daniel didn’t answer, giving a nod as he passed through the front office. Owen kept up, and once in the tiled hallway, asked, “Why are we here? I thought we were going to the hospital to see the mill manager and then out to Hammersmith.”

Clamping his teeth, Daniel let the insolent tone drift by. “Wilkinson, you are the probationary officer here. It is not your place to question my itinerary or methods.” It galled him to know Sir Michael had promoted the little beast from office boy to potential magistrate’s investigator. And that he had assigned Wilkinson to Daniel to train.

More galling was that he suspected Sir Michael of forcing Daniel to groom his own replacement. The meeting with his solicitors loomed, and doubts gripped Daniel’s middle as he once again wondered what the future held.