Chapter Thirteen
The next morning, Quinn sat in his office, spinning the snuffbox they’d found in Polly’s bedroom around and around on his desk. Though he should be figuring out a way to find out who the hell it belonged to, all he could think about was the night he’d spent with Allison.
He still couldn’t believe she’d come to him, asking him to make love to her.
She was such a contradiction, so breathtakingly confusing and exciting. He had no idea how he could refuse her again.
But the risk she’d taken, the sheer foolhardiness of her actions, rattled him. The girl had no sense of self-preservation. If he were another type of man, she would have found herself in a world of trouble last night, not to mention the danger she’d taken just getting to his house. He shuddered to think of her having been set upon by any of the nasty denizens who lingered on the streets at night. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her.
“Any updates?”
Drake’s voice startled Quinn out of his thoughts, and he accidentally sent the snuffbox spinning off the front of his desk.
Drake picked it up but paused in the process of handing it back, examining it more closely. “Where did you get this?”
“On Polly’s dresser. I think the killer might have set it down when he murdered her, then forgotten to pick it up again.” Quinn looked at his boss more closely. “Why? Do you recognize it?”
Frowning, Drake put it back on the desk and then took the seat across from Quinn. “I think these were given to members of the Viper Club a few years back for Christmas.” He pointed to the symbol on the lid. “You see this. It’s the club’s insignia.”
A surge of excitement rushed through Quinn, pushing his focus back where it should be. On the case. “Well, that certainly narrows things down. And it points us in a direction I hadn’t expected. I never imagined Polly’s murderer could be an aristocrat.”
“The Viper Club has over two hundred members,” Drake said tightly. “They are all high-ranking members of society. I can’t imagine they’d consent to be interviewed, and you can’t very well demand they each show you their snuffbox.”
Quinn sat back in his chair, wondering why Drake was acting this way. He didn’t usually seem to care about hurting the feelings of the upper-crust, even though he’d been born into them himself. “Well, it gives me more to go on than I had before. I’d pretty much come to a dead end with my other lead. The dirty photo.”
“There has to be a reason the killer left that there. Come on, O’Brien. I need you to figure this out. Scotland Yard is breathing down my neck about this.”
Quinn had never heard such an edge in Drake’s voice. Obviously, something about the snuffbox had bothered him because Scotland Yard was always breathing down their necks.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the photo,” Quinn mused, deciding to let Drake’s strange behavior go for now. “In my opinion, the killer left it there as an explanation. I think he’d had a relationship with Polly in the past. She obviously knew him well enough to let him in. Maybe he’d believed her when she said she was changing her ways. But when he found out she’d been posing for dirty pictures, he realized she just didn’t want to see him anymore.”
“Some men don’t take rejection well,” Drake agreed.
“Polly’s friend Belle is coming in later today,” Quinn informed his boss. “Perhaps she knows who Polly’s lovers were. She didn’t want to say anything in front of Lady Allison, and she didn’t want to talk to Ness either, but I think I can get something out of her. She and Polly were very close. I think if Polly confided in anyone, it was her.”
Drake pushed to his feet. “Well, let me know if she gives you anything you can use. I need to head back.”
After walking Drake out, Quinn told Pond to fetch Ness and send him to his office. As he waited, he again turned the snuffbox around and around, trying to envision a toff so in love with Polly that he’d brutally murdered her for showing off her private bits.
It seemed a bit of a stretch. A man like that could have any fancy piece he wanted. Why focus such fury on poor Polly?
“You wanted to see me, Inspector?” Ness asked, stepping into his office about ten minutes later.
Quinn held up the snuffbox. “Drake said these were given as Christmas gifts at the Viper Club a few years ago.”
Ness let out a low whistle of surprise. “I thought it was fancy, but I never expected it to belong to one of London’s finest.”
“I’m a bit worried this investigation will turn up something nobody, not even Drake, wants revealed,” Quinn admitted. “God forbid a bloody duke murdered Polly. We’d never be able to make a case against someone like that.”
“Anybody who frequents the Viper Club is going to be hard to get to,” Ness replied soberly.
“Nonetheless, that’s our only lead, so we need to see where it takes us.” He handed the box over to Ness. “I want you to go down there and confirm that they did indeed give these out. See if you can get a list of who they gave them to. See if any of the staff knows who has these sorts of... proclivities where women are concerned.”
Ness nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Though God knows if any of them will deign to talk to me at all.”
“Do the best you can, and let me know what you find. I’m expecting Belle shortly. Hopefully, she’ll have some names for us. It would be helpful if one of them was also on the list of men who received these snuffboxes.” Quinn had been at this long enough to know that was highly unlikely, but he could use a break. He had too much going on in his head right now to have to expend so much energy on this murder.
Ness nodded and left the room, leaving Quinn once more with his racing thoughts about Allison and the night they’d shared.