Part Twenty Seven – The Elton Invitation
The scrape of a boot at the door interrupted their thoughts. A messenger entered, a young boy, his red and gold coat, his hand clutching a folded letter sealed in crimson wax. The sigil impressed upon it — a hound beneath a crown — left no doubt who had sent it.
"Lord Elton," Raleigh said under his breath, exchanging a glance with Albert.
The boy placed the letter carefully on the desk, bowed in the stiff, self-taught manner of street couriers, and left without a word. Albert broke the seal at once, eyes scanning the elegant script.
"It's an invitation," he said, almost disbelieving. "Tea at Lord Elton estate. He writes that… there are questions he thinks he may be open to speak about."
Albert's tone carried excitement, the energy of possibility. Raleigh, however, folded his arms, gaze narrowing at the parchment.
"Councilmen do nothing without reason, lad. If Elton opens his doors, it isn't out of kindness. He wants something in return. Politics, most likely."
Albert gave a half-smile. "Still, it's more than we've got. At least he wants to talk. That's something."
Raleigh didn't argue. He simply reached for his coat. "Something, aye. But not always the kind you want."
They were just stepping out into the brisk morning when the sound of raised voices carried across the courtyard. Two fellow detectives, Clayton and William, were coming up the steps, guiding between them a ragged little girl. Her clothes hung loose, patched with rough thread, her hair matted, her cheeks pale from the cold.
Albert stopped, his brows knitting. "What's this?"
Clayton adjusted his grip on the child's shoulder, his expression weary. "Another disappearance. Pulled her in this morning. Her mother gone in the night, house door open, no trace left behind. She's the only one left. Commissioner Webb isn't stirring himself over it — says it's no council matter."
A silence hung for a moment. Raleigh's jaw tightened. Albert, however, exhaled through his nose and gave a faint smirk — not mocking, but bitterly amused. "You might have the better case, then. At least disappearances leave a trail. All I've got is a ballroom of liars and silence."
Clayton gave him a wry look, not sure if it was encouragement or envy. William just shook his head and led the girl inside.
Raleigh chuckled softly at Albert's remark, the sound more warm than chastising. "Don't lose that spirit, lad. You'll need it before we're through."
And with that, they stepped toward the waiting coach, the Elton seal heavy in Raleigh's pocket — a promise of answers, or of deeper entanglement.