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“When did you hear Mr. Frye had been arrested for theft?”

“A couple of weeks ago. Definitely before I heard about what happened to Calliope or Miss Delacourt’s disappearance.”

“I will see what I can find out about Frye’s whereabouts since that time.” Gideon needed to learn more about Nicholas Frye, but if the man was jailed for theft, then he could not have been the one to kill Miss Collier or be involved in Miss Delacourt’s disappearance.

Potter tapped his chin and then shook his finger in the direction of the paintbrush. “Now that we’re discussing Frye, I recall there was an incident with a gentleman and Miss Delacourt.”

Electra shifted next to him, and Gideon could all but feel the interest radiating off her.

“A man came here to the museum to visit her. Tall, blond. A dignified sort of gentleman, but Miss Delacourt seemed mortified and asked him to go away. Later, I heard her explaining to Calliope that he was a childhood friend. Calliope teased her a bit, and they whispered after that. I never saw him again or heard more about him.”

Gideon glanced at Electra. It had to have been Abraham Seaton.

“Did you observe an argument between Miss Delacourt and this blond gentleman?”

“No, nothing like that. They held hands for a moment. She seemed embarrassed is all, and I heard her ask him to go and not visit her at the museum. Her cheeks were bright red.”

“Not frightened of him at all that you could discern?” Gideon clarified.

“No, sir.”

“Anything else you overheard the ladies discussing?” Electra asked.

Potter shrugged. “Do you mean about the visitor? I only recall that Miss Delacourt was anxious that Mr. Kerrigan may be angry that she had a visitor. Calliope said she’d never tell him. That it would be their secret.”

Electra snapped her gaze toward the young man at that. She had mentioned seeing Miss Collier giving Iris Delacourt a key. Gideon couldn’t quite imagine how keeping quiet about the visit of Mr. Seaton might involve a key.

“You mentioned seeing the two of them together, Miss Collier and Miss Delacourt, outside the museum a few times,” Gideon said. “Yet you only mentioned the one time. The dance hall. What were the others?”

“Once in a while, when their work stopped here, they would go to the tea shop around the way on Oxford Street. But I suspect Miss Delacourt didn’t stay out long. I suspect her father is strict. She seemed worried about disappointing or upsetting him.”

As Gideon bent to make his final notes, Sam Potter tapped his fingers against his thigh.

“There is another gent you might look into.” He sounded nervous, almost hesitant. “Name of Joseph Barclay. Calliope mentioned him once or twice in passing. Made me a bit…jealous, if I’m honest. She said she’d known him a long while.”

“Any idea where he might be found?” Gideon asked.

“A pub in Camden Town. But I know nothing about the man except that he was keen on Calliope, and she seemed fond of him. I’ve no cause to accuse him, you understand.”

“I understand, Mr. Potter, and thank you for the name. He’s worth speaking to, either by myself or Detective Sergeant Hardy at Bow Street station.”

Gideon extracted a calling card from his pocket, and the young man took it with a shaky hand. “If you think of anything else that might assist us to find Miss Delacourt, you can find me at Vine Street station.”

They all stood, and Sam Potter gave each of them a bleak look before they departed.

Gideon and Electra had little trouble finding a cab for hire outside the museum. Once they were in the hackney, seated across from each other, he couldn’t seem to sit still. He’d called up Russell Square to the driver, intending to return Electra to her home. But as he watched London roll by, his boot heel rapped against the carriage floor, and his fingers tapped out a steady rhythm against his thigh.

He felt a unique weight on his shoulders, and though the sun had almost set, he was not ready to finish his search for answers.

“You’re returning me home quite early,” Electra said. “And yet something about Mr. Potter seems to be troubling you? Will you not share your thoughts?”

Gideon faced her for the first time. “Of course. Forgive me. I did not mean to withhold.” Though he wasn’t used to having anyone accompany him during his inquiries, Electra was the one person he felt he could speak to on any subject—except perhaps the topic of his complicated feelings for her.

“So tell me what you’re thinking,” she urged. “Do you suspect Mr. Potter of harming Miss Delacourt in some way?”

“No.”

“Miss Collier then?”