"Back again, Inspector Hoyden?"
"Only to see you smile Georgina, it is the highlight of my day."
"And I thought my day was boring. He's -"
At megaphone level Grierly's voice thundered from his office, interrupting Roger's conversation.
"Hoyden you are indolent, you should have been here an hour ago, stop haranguing that girl and get your body in here immediately."
Roger smiled at Georgina before he disappeared behind the Chief Super's door. Roger sat in the visitors chair.
In a conversational tone Grierly said, "How have you been going Lad?"
"Slowly!"
"Gynaecide Jim struck again last night. He killed a Diana Croston."
"He obviously didn't want credit for an extra murder, that's six plus Cynthia."
Grierly nodded, he was disappointed about progress in the case so far.
"Can you keep an eye out for this bastard too?"
"Yes, I would be pleased to get him off the street."
"OK, made any progress?"
"Yes and No Sir, No one has picked up the files, either they are cautious or they know something."
"I'd guess cautious, spying is a precarious business if you lack patience you die," Grierly said.
Roger nodded his agreement.
"I have decided to use my house for the bordello. It's in Little Sanctuary which is between the War rooms and Parliament, just behind Westminster Abbey."
"I know it Lad."
"It used to be our London residence."
"So you are Lord something or other too?"
"Yes, I pick up an auxiliary title, technically I am Earl of Alveston. I haven't found the title at all useful."
Grierly stared hard at Roger. He wondered if Earl Alveston was real and Roger Hoyden was the fake.
"I wonder how much else about you is fabricated?"
Roger smiled, he was pleased he had decided to include the old man, he had good instincts.
"I'll need some time to 'Bordello' my home. Could you assign me Lola Arkwright and create some undercover assignment so we won't be missed."
"With Lola gone, I might be able to get the men in her department to do some work."
Roger laughed, "You'll need to make her up to Detective Sergeant too."
"Are you taking any more of my girls?"
"No, I'll recruit on the street."
"OK, It's all done lad, are you ready to go?"
"Yes Sir, I'm glad you are on-board Sir."
Grierly nodded before launching into a tirade, "Get out Hoyden, you are a despicable human being, with the ethics of a rat and the work rate of a sloth. I don't want to see you again until you have actually achieved something"
Roger laughed and patted the old man on the shoulder to acknowledge his performance. His voice could be heard all the way down the corridor. It would quickly be around the division.
Roger shut Grierly's door, he managed to replace his grin with a frown, which became genuine when he saw Georgina sobbing. She held her head in her hands, an open telegram lay on her desk.
Roger quickly grasped the tableau. He knelt beside her.
"Wounded, missing or killed?" he asked.
"Killed," uttered so quietly it was hard to distinguish from a sob.
He patted her shoulder barged back into Grierly's office.
"Georgina is going home."
Grierly heard the sobbing walked to his door and saw the telegram, "Thank you Lad," he said.
Roger retrieved her coat from the hat stand, pulled her to her feet and wrapped it around her.
"The back door," he said.
"Where are we going," she managed between the sobs.
"Your home, a nice cup of tea. Then whatever you need."
A snarky reply bubbled in Georgina's head but it was swamped by grief before it could be uttered. She snuggled under his arm happy to leave her fate in his hands.
Roger was pleased he hadn't needed a car. Georgina lived in the Devil's Acre at the corner of Perkins Rents and Old Pye Street. All of the slums which had comprised the acre had been pulled down and replaced. Georgina's apartment was in the Orchard Estate, built at the turn of the century it was a grand five story building. Georgina was on the least popular fifth floor. The walk up multiple staircases discouraged all but the young and fit. It was very close to Scotland Yard, Georgina would be able to see her office from the apartment window had it not been for the curving street scape of Perkins Rents.
The apartment was warm and welcoming the antithesis of Georgina who was dull and listless. Roger stripped her coat off and sat her in a generous armchair.
"Sweet tea, OK?" he said.
Georgina just stared at the fireplace. Roger took the lack of denial as consent. The kitchen was well organized so pretty soon he offered Georgina a hot cup of char. She was still fascinated by the fireplace to the exclusion of all other stimuli. He put the cup on a side table that he had pulled over with his foot. He knelt in-front of her, took her hand.
"Do you want to talk about it," he said gently.
She shivered and said in a tiny voice, "I killed him!"
Her hand was freezing, he felt her forehead, it too was cold. He began to worry, her skin was pale and her irises enlarged, she was suffering a shock reaction. Drinking was not the solution she needed warmth and improved circulation. He found a blanket and before wrapping it around her her loosened the blouse at her neck then unbuttoned the waist of her skirt.
"Don't leave me, Roger please," she managed.
She held his hand and would not release her grip.
"I'm cold and heartless, devoid of morals and now I've killed Richard. Will you hold me?"
Roger pulled her to her feet. She stood, looking defeated while he wrapped her in the blanket. Her skirt had pooled at her ankles, if she was aware she didn't care. Roger sat in the generous armchair and pulled her into his lap, she snuggled to him like a baby, her head tucked under his chin.
"Tell me about it?" he said.
Georgina registered his words. She couldn't tell anyone she felt ashamed. These confidences were not even suitable to share with your best girl friend.
"Georgina, whatever you tell me in confidence will NEVER pass my lips. If you decide to share, it will be more secure than whispering to yourself in a locked room."
Her tears increased, Roger's shoulder once damp, was now saturated. Georgina felt so burdened with guilt, that the world had become heavier, and her place in it less secure. Her body was harder to move, expanding her chest for air was difficult. She recognized the need for confession. Georgina could not equate Roger's reputation with the man she had come to know, maybe he could be trusted. She fought the lethargy and lifted her body, staring into his eyes, she said, "Can I really trust you?"
"Yes!"
It was a simple response but she saw only honesty and compassion in his eyes. Her head flopped back onto his shoulder.
"I killed him."
Roger stayed quiet, he just gave her a hug to encourage her to continue, it was the right approach. As if a dam was broken the words gushed from her mouth in a toneless monologue.
"He rents a room, well really I rented it to a friend. He moved in with her. Fiona I killed her too. I didn't feel it was right to throw him out. Since September he had become rather chummy but he wanted too much."
—<~>—
"Georgie, you are so intoxicating I want more. I want to really feel your breasts, not just through your clothing. Let's strip down and cuddle."
"Richard, NO!"
"Oh, I know I'm in trouble now, Richard, no less."
