McGregor was chuffed, I could see. He’d brought in a villain who’d long eluded capture, and he was happy. Daniel and Mr. Fielding, however, were both quiet with anger.

“What now, Inspector?” Mr. Fielding asked as soon as the door to the interview room was closed. “Will you put together constables to flush out the thugs in Bethnal Green? Or give up? Mr. Naismith is a powerful and frightening man.”

He spoke with great cynicism, and Inspector McGregor sent him an irritated look. “We have plenty of men at Bethnal Green already, some remarkably talented. They’ll keep searching until they find whoever killed the poor woman. You have my word on it.”

Mr. Fielding remained unconvinced. He said nothing more, however, only led the way out and downstairs, his stride so rapid Daniel and I barely kept up with him.

Lewis waited with the coach, the man leaning on the wheel and chatting with one of the constables. The horse slumped on one back hoof, eyes closed. When Lewis saw Daniel, he waved a farewell to the constable and sprang up onto the seat, unlooping the reins and holding the now-awake horse steady.

Daniel helped me into the carriage. Mr. Fielding hung back, speaking swiftly and quietly to Daniel. I couldn’t make out all he said, but I heard the name “Naismith.”

I half climbed down again. “You cannot rush out to find him by yourself, Mr. Fielding. I understand how you feel, but you’d come to grief.”

Mr. Fielding’s eyes blazed with emotion. “Do you understand, Mrs. Holloway? I’ve just learned that the man who took away the only person who was good to me in my childhood has now taken away the only woman I ever grew fond of. How can you ask me to be sensible about it?”

“He might have ordered the men to Mr. Carter; his toughs might have waylaid Nurse Betts. You are not to know. If Inspector McGregor says there are good men in that area who will find out, I believe him.”

A year ago, I would not have had such confidence in the inspector. But having observed him for this space of time, I had come to understand he truly was an excellent policeman.

“I am to go tamely home, am I?” Mr. Fielding demanded. “Instead of running down murderers and locating the foundling children?”

“Not tamely, but you do need to return home, Mr. Fielding. Remember that the lads and lasses from Ma Aster’s house will be there. They need looking after. You must be there when they arrive, or they might believe you’ve deserted them too.”

Mr. Fielding glared at me, a hard rage in a hard man. He might have taken on the dress and mannerisms of a clergyman, but they could not hide the villain he’d once been and likely still was.