What Breaks A Detective.

Chapter 8

Smart took a walk later in the afternoon, to mull over everything his brother had told him. The stamps on the letters from Allie were apparently the ones used more in Scotland than England, and London didn't seem to sell them, according to Tarquin. That, and coupled with the lack of return address, implied that the letters were sent from somewhere other than Praed Street.

Which did beg the question-where were they from? And since the first letter was delivered before Allie fell off the bridge, and the second set were in the exact same hand (he and Tarquin had spent the last hour running all the complex checks) why was someone (he did suspect Rosamund) impersonating Allie to her friends?

Smart wandered along, and crossed the street to walk across the Thames Bridge. Coming here always seemed to re-focus his mind, as somehow he felt closer to Allie without actually knowing where she was.

Leaning on the rail at the centre and staring into the raging waters below, Smart sighed. It was an awfully long way down, off the bridge, when you looked at it. And the water was flowing rather fast. It made him wonder how Allie had managed to survive it.

The more Smart thought, the more he was beginning to realize he was going to have to try it.

Almost lazily, he hopped up so he was sitting on the side. It did look cold in there. But if Allie could survive it, then he could too, he decided, swinging his legs over to the other side. But as he did, he suddenly felt little fingers grab and grip onto the back of his overcoat.

"Don't you dare."

Smart knew the voice without turning around. It was a voice that, if it hadn't been for her twin sister, would mean case closed.

He stayed stock still, sitting with his feet dangling off the bridge. The fingers didn't let go.

"Which one are you?" he asked tentatively.

There was a pause, as the fingers pulled him just a little closer to safety.

"Rosamund" came the reply. "But just because I'm not my sister doesn't mean you can go jumping off bridges."

"It was an experiment" Smart grumbled, in his defense. "I wasn't planning on dying in the process. Allie did it."

"Allie had help" Rosamund pointed out firmly from behind him. "Some guy in a fisherboat. Moored right under the bridge, where it couldn't be seen from the top. Allie fell, let the river carry her underneath everyone, and then this friend of hers hauled her in. And since there's nobody under there right now to catch you, I suggest you get down."

"How do you know that?" Smart asked, spinning with his back to Rosamund and swinging his legs around to safety, still not looking at her, because he wasn't sure if he could.

"I was there."

Smart now had to look where Allie's twin was pointing. Her small, slender finger picked out a riverside cafe, with seating out the front.

"And you didn't help her?" Smart asked, a little derisively.

"I didn't need to. She was doing perfectly well by herself."

With a dry smirk, Smart hopped off the wall and faced Rosamund. She was now the spitting image of the woman he knew so well-sharp green eyes, mousy brown hair, petite in every respect, although possibly a little paler in skin.

"Right arm" Smart ordered. "Roll up your sleeve."

Rosamund looked absurdly at him. He kept the waiting glare.

"Why?" she asked, obediently undoing the cuff of her dress, on her right arm, and baring the clean, pale flesh underneath. Smart nodded. This was definitely Rosamund Winter.