Free Grace and Disgrace by Kayne Milhomme Page B

never came back up, and coppers were everywhere. No chance of him surfacing without notice. Won’t be too long before we find the body.”
    “Bly me.” Eldredge wiped his forehead with a cloth napkin.
    “He had a gun, Tuohay. You saw it.”
    “I did,” Tuohay confirmed. His voice was measured. “I assume there will be a full report?”
    Frost chuckled. “Scream the house down, is that it? Send another dozen Cockney’s from London to meddle in our affairs? Or is it the RIC?”
    “The RIC has jurisdiction, though Scotland Yard is…present. Officially, the RIC must be included on all relevant updates to the case. Nothing more.” Tuohay took a sip of his drink and frowned.
    “What is it?” Frost demanded.
    “Nothing.” Tuohay took another long sip before putting the drink down. “Just thinking , inspector.”
    “Thinking? Action, Tuohay. That’s how you get things done.” Frost absently scratched at one of his muttonchops. “Will your boys back in Belfast be upset?”
    “They will review the full report and make a recommendation from there. You were just doing your job, Inspector Frost.”
    Frost’s eyes narrowed. “I never said I wasn’t. Kip Crippen weren’t no French pigeon.”
    “No, he was not.” Tuohay pulled a silver flask from his coat pocket and poured some brandy into his glass. The scent was woody and sweet. “Is that all?”
    “What are you up to here?”
    “An interview, like I said.”
    Frost grunted. “And after this?”
    “I plan on visiting Father Robert Donnelly in Plymouth. I have a few questions for him relating to the case.” Tuohay smiled thinly. “I have nothing to hide, Inspector Frost. As the RIC promised the Boston brass, my whereabouts and a full report thereafter will be available.”
    “If you say so.” Frost stood, his chair scraping against the floorboards. “I am sure we will see each other soon.” He tipped his hat and exited the way he had come, his hands thrust in his pockets.
    “Jack—” Eldredge began, but Tuohay held up his hand.
    “Later.” He swallowed the contents of his glass in one swig. A long silence followed until one of the newspapers nearby crackled audibly.
    “Frost wants in on the Templar Diamond.” The woman’s voice, aimed at Tuohay, came from behind the previously raucous newspaper a table away.
    “This is not the best time to discuss case details, Eliza,” Tuohay replied. “The doctor and Miss Hart will be returning any moment.”
    Eliza set her paper on the table. “Inspector Frost is a hard-boiled case, and he’s worming his way into this one.”
    “I am sure we have not seen the last of him,” Tuohay agreed, drumming his fingers on the table. “It’s to be expected, of course. We are on his turf.”
    Eliza scooted over to their table and leaned next to Eldredge. “Johnny, here’s the codex back.” She slipped a small, hardbound book with the title of ‘Goldman’s Cable Codex’ in gold lettering to Eldredge. A pile of notes sat atop it.
    “But I just gave it to you,” Eldredge protested, a confused look on his face. “Did you have time to look at my analysis?”
    “Hold a moment,” said Tuohay, critically eyeing his two partners. “What is Eliza doing with the codebook?”
    Eldredge shrugged. “I wanted her to review my analysis of it.”
    “Explain, please.”
    “I was eager to get to work after we got the codex from Sara at the interview, and I did some analysis on it and the letter late last night.” Eldredge voice brimmed with excitement as he leaned forward. “As you know, there are many ways to encrypt or encode a letter.”
    “Of course,” said Tuohay. “Book ciphers, running ciphers, code books.”
    “And the like, yes. Before us, we have a presumably encoded letter—an invitation, to be specific—and the means to decipher it, i.e. the code book. The assumption is that they are linked, as we were also shown Father Aiden Kearney’s and Sara’s invitations by Sara, and the priest’s