Malcolm’s expression made it clear that he questioned the wisdom of sending through such an inept team, but he merely said, “You say Armstrong went through the Wild West Gate? I suppose he must have arrived in London conventionally enough, by steamship from New York to Liverpool or London, bringing Marcus and the children with him. They’ll have had ample time to set up a hideout anywhere in the city, which means they’ll be devilishly difficult to trace. On the other hand, we know that Miss Caddrick was wounded—”
“What?” Kaederman lunged out of his chair a second time.
Malcolm blinked. “I thought you’d been thoroughly briefed?”
The detective thinned his lips. “That particular detail was left out.”
“I see. Well, the dog we used to trace Benny Catlin followed a blood trail away from the Royal Opera House. Not a great deal of blood, but clearly Benny Catlin’s. Or rather, Miss Caddrick’s. We don’t know how seriously she was injured in the fight at the Opera, but we saw her just two days ago, quite recovered, so the wound was clearly not a life-threatening one. We’d been searching the hospitals and workhouse infirmaries without turning up anything, so I would suggest we now broaden the search to private physicians. We’ll begin by contacting all the private doctors and surgeons in the region of the Strand, then spread out in sectors from there, trying to trace where Miss Caddrick received treatment for her injury. The baggage handlers can assist with that.”
“You’ve got to be joking?” Sid protested. “That could take months!”