London Shadows (#1 Penderry's Bizarre)

Chapter Twelve

At closing time, Tabitha locked the expensive goods in the cupboard and made a final check around the shop. Mrs Toop had left early for an appointment, leaving her responsible for the lock up routine. The last seamstress to leave called good night over the tinkling of the bell on the door.

"Good night," replied Tabitha.

The door closed on the cold night air and she fetched her shawl from the back room, turning off the oil lamps along the way. When she returned to the darkened shop front, she picked up her basket and the keys, ready to leave and lock up for the night. Just then, the bell jingled and leaves rustled into the shop. A figure filled the shadowy doorway.

"Sorry, but we're closed," she told the customer.

The man - for it was a man, with a clicking cane and a top hat – entered the shop. The door closed and he stood silently in the darkness, watching her.

Fear crept under her skin and she swallowed, the wicker of the basket handle creaking in her grip.

"Hello, Tabitha," the figure whispered.

***

Three days later

Standing on the lamp-lit steps of Sophie's home, Westman tucked his newspaper under his arm and combed his hair back into place with his gloved fingers. He was about to knock on the door when he heard a cacophony on the other side. The wails of an infant became clear, and he cast a confused look at Blinks who was ready to drive the carriage away.

"Hold on. Are you certain this is Miss Penderry's address?"

"Aye, sir," Blinks confirmed before he urged the horses onward.

The conveyance rattled off down the street, leaving Westman unconvinced. But taking Blinks' word for it, he rapped several times with his good hand. No sooner had he knocked, the door was flung open by a harassed looking maid with a baby.

"Can I 'elp you?" she asked, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

With a blink, Westman became more convinced that his servant had abandoned him at the wrong house. "Good evening. Is Miss Penderry at home?"

"Mr Westman," a familiar voice called. He peered around the maid to see Sophie in the entry hall. "Oh my, you're looking so much better. I'm so glad."

For a moment, Westman forgot how to speak. Sophie looked lovely in an evening gown of white silk. More lovely than he'd ever seen her.

"We didn't expect you so early," she went on, coming to the door and inviting him into the house. "My grandmother is still getting ready for the party. You'll have to excuse the noise. I'm afraid things are a little disorganised."

"I hope I'm not inconveniencing you?"

"Not at all."

"Did you see today's paper?" he asked, unfolding the tabloid he'd brought with him.

"No." Sophie stood beside him and peered at the newspaper.

He pointed to the article in question. "It's not good news, but I thought you should know."

Sophie's brow wrinkled when she read, "Creeping Clem strikes again? The latest in a string of abductions occurred on Wednesday when local Stepney girl, Tabitha Nethercott, failed to return home from her place of employment. Miss Nethercott, twelve years old, is a seamstress by trade, employed at Toop's Fashion emporium - Jupiter! The girl from the shop. She's missing?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Although, this has nothing to do with Creeping Clem. Someone else is responsible for her disappearance."

"Mr Westman, this is terrible. That poor girl."