A Death for a Cause by Caroline Dunford Read Free Book Online

remain firmly in my debt.’
    Fitzroy grinned and raised his glass to me. ‘I do indeed, but what I am going to ask you to do is not for me, but as a representative of the Crown.’
    I groaned. ‘You mean for King and Country? Not again!’
    17 A great asset in his spy craft.

Chapter Nine
    Fitzroy bemoans his lack of entertainment
    â€˜The thing is,’ said Fitzroy as he spooned a strawberry blancmange onto my dessert plate, ‘that the suffragettes have started getting involved in violence and they are doing rather well. From the current informants I have managed to gather that they …’
    â€˜You have them informing on one another?’ I exploded. ‘So much for sisterhood indeed.’
    â€˜The violence has been extreme, Euphemia. We are not talking about the smashing of a few windows any longer. Telephone exchanges have been destroyed. Railway carriages badly damaged. This is occurring at a time when the international situation is far from stable and I do not need to tell you how important communication and other infrastructures during are during what may soon become the darkest of times.’
    I shivered at his words. ‘You believe that –’ I began, but he interrupted me.
    â€˜I am not here to speak with you of international affairs. Finish your dessert. I will tell what has brought me into the situation over coffee.’
    â€˜They’re going to bring us coffee?’ I asked astonished. ‘We are hardly dining at the Ritz.’ 18
    â€˜They will if they know what is good for them,’ snarled Fitzroy and fell on his own portion of spotted dick as if it had somehow offended him.
    When plates had been removed, coffee poured and we were alone once more, Fitzroy grew serious. ‘I do most definitely need your help, but if you are not well enough to continue I must ask you to say so before I disclose further information.’
    â€˜Will I be required to do anything energetic?’ I asked for my head still throbbed.
    â€˜You will be placed back among the detained women. At times you will be removed for questioning or force feeding – or so the others will think. In actuality you will be dining with me and discussing what you may have uncovered.’
    â€˜So I am to be spy?’ I said bridling.
    â€˜An embryonic one,’ said Fitzroy. ‘You barely have any training, but I do not think you will be in any danger.’ He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. ‘Remind me, when you are feeling more yourself, to show you some basic self-defence moves. By all reports you were taken most easily. Though I give you full marks for pulling the man out of his saddle. I take it he was completely unbalanced at the time?’
    â€˜That is largely accurate,’ I admitted. ‘But I’m not sure I am comfortable being …’ I met his clear, cold, grey gaze. I swallowed. ‘I mean…’ His gaze challenged me to decry his lifelong profession. I gave way and said somewhat piteously, ‘Why?’
    â€˜Because someone has died, Euphemia, and I am almost certain that one of the women in the cell with you will know who caused his death. More than that, though, I need to know if his death was intended.’
    â€˜How did he die?’
    â€˜A fire bomb was placed in a railway carriage. When the blaze was extinguished two bodies were recovered, one of a young suffragette and the other of a man of, shall we say, significance.’
    â€˜And it happened at the same time as the march? You think the protest was a deliberate diversion?’
    Fitzroy leaned back in his chair. ‘I do so enjoy conversing with you,’ he remarked.
    â€˜Who died?’
    â€˜The young woman’s name was Aggie Phelps, a known suffragette of the more militant persuasion. Twenty-nine years old, spinster, working as one of these new shop girls, who are given lodging in the store. Her colleagues describe her as intelligent, but of a