No Greater Love

Stephanie Cole is a girl who loves the spotlight. She will do anything to get it, anything at all. But when suspicions arise about her life and her being the cause for a former teachers suicide she is all too quick to run from her love of the light. But when she is reported missing it falls to Detective Inspector Henry Quinton and his DC Wilson Drake to find her before something terrible happens. Soon St. Grandorf's school for girls is back to normal and Stephanie is home again yet when she is found murdered there are a number of suspects for Quinton to look at before he can find the true perpetrator of this terrible crime....

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16. Quinton has his suspicions and learns of a friend’s intentions to leave Kensington

Chapter Sixteen:

 

Quinton has his suspicions and learns of a friend’s intentions to leave Kensington

 

18th November 1895

 

The snow hadn’t fallen for three days. However, there was still a thick layer of crisp white snow covering the entirety of London. Furthermore, the ice and frost were still playing havoc with the city and many a people had been to hospital with small cuts and bruises. These were of course all the results of falling over on the slippery cobbled streets of London town. Quinton however had been lucky so far to not fall over. However, he had had a little stumble near to Oxford Street that previous Friday. It was a normal day for the Inspector; he would walk from his house at about eight thirty and arrive at the police station at about nine o’clock. Once there he would get a cup of coffee and check to see if he had any letters in his “pigeon hole” and then go to his office and begin a day of writing up reports and filing files and exedra and exedra. Yet today was slightly different. No, it was very different; not of course that Quinton knew it would different. So he did what I have already said and had already begun to write some reports when a man that he knew rather well walked in. Quinton smiled at the man and beckoned him to take a seat. The man did so and relaxed back into the rather comfortable leather chair…

“It’s a chilly morning sir.” Said the curly black-haired man.

“With skills that are that sharp Drake you’ll be a DI before you know it!” Quinton said sarcastically. Drake chuckled.

“Any letters for me sir?” Drake enquired.

“No. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would there be? And why so interested? You don’t usually ask for any letters, you never get letters.” Quinton was rather cautious as to why Drake should want to know whether or not he had received any letters.

“Alright! Bloody hell! I only asked.”

“How’s what’s-her-name?”

“Wendy, sir.” Drake replied. The aforementioned Wendy was Drake’s love interest, the two had been courting for about three months now and Drake was rather fond of her.

“You were the same with the last one. Head over heels for weeks.” Quinton murmured.

“No. that was just an infatuation, this is true love.” Drake thought of Wendy as he said this.

“Of course it is…” Another sarcastic tone.

At this point Drake sighed. Quinton had suspected something was quite wrong with Drake for a number of weeks now. It was just that something had changed. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but something had defiantly changed in his Constable.

“What is it Drake?”

“What’s what sir?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve…I’ve….I’ve put in for a transfer. Up in Edinburgh, its where my sister lives and she is awfully lonely. And since I’m almost a DI I thought that by the time I’ve settled in I’ll be ready for a promotion.” Drake confessed. Quinton said nothing; He took off and cleaned his spectacles.

“And are you adamant?” He asked.

 “Yes. I’m sorry-…”

“Don’t Drake. Just don’t.”

“Oh, come on sir…”

“No Drake. Since I’ve been here all I’ve done is lose things. Alfred, Cencock, my wife. And now you. I’m losing you, my only friend.” Quinton held his head in his hands.

Drake left the room silently.

 

It was twenty minutes before Drake even attempted to try and go back into his Detective Inspector’s office.

It was more of a relief than anything else to Drake to find that Quinton was no longer in the office. Where he was? Drake didn’t know. He was fairly sure however that wherever he was he would have a tumbler of whisky in his right hand and his silver topped cane in his left. Drake sighed at the sorry sight of the empty, dark and cold office.

“Where is he then?” Said a dark black toned voice from behind Drake. He turned around to see a thin, pale, pole like man wearing a tweed suit and wearing small semi-circular spectacles. His treasured silver pocket watch carefully placed into one of his chest pocket.

“I don’t know, Sir.”

“Have you finally told him then?” The man asked.

“Yes.”

“So he’s probably sulking somewhere then?” The pole like man chuckled. It was something rarely seen.

“I wouldn’t blame him.” Drake sighed.

“Yes, I suppose I would have to agree with you there.”

Chief Superintendent Long strolled into the empty cave like office. Drake followed him and continued to sigh.

“You don’t suppose he’ll be back in today then?” Long enquired.

“How am I to know?” Drake’s anger momentarily spewed from his mouth.

“I don’t know. You seem to spend more time with him; he sits in here most of the day when you’re not in. Like when you went onto your Inspector’s course. He looked like a smacked arse for more than a week and a half!” Long exclaimed.

Drake let a small smile creep onto his pale and young face.

“What do you want with him then sir?” The Constable asked.

“It’s about that missing girl case from St. Grandorf’s.”

“I thought that was all wrapped up, in a tight little bundle as it were.” Drake murmured.

“Yes, so did I. But then Quinton came into my office yesterday. He asked to see Mister Grahams. He doesn’t think that Grahams did it.” The two men didn’t say another word.

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