“I’m surprised to see you here this evening,” he said as he made to move past Anthony. “I got the impression that you avoided the gaming tables.” He smiled with faint derision. “Something to do with a fear of losing, no doubt.”

The insult sliced to the bone, but Anthony was proud that he was able to manage a thin, cold smile in return. “Something to do with a strong desire to avoid ending up dead because of a foolish dispute over a hand of cards.” He paused deliberately. “As our father did.”

A flicker of dark emotion came and went in Dominic’s eyes. He swiftly veiled the expression. “So you finally reasoned it out, did you?

“It certainly took you long enough. Perhaps you would do well to reconsider your choice of profession. One would expect a private inquiry agent to be somewhat more astute, don’t you agree?”

“I believe that I shall stick with my career. Unlike you, I do not have the option of amusing myself with science experiments all day and card-playing all night. That sort of pleasant idleness is only for those who were so fortunate as to inherit property and an income.”

Dominic nodded. “I retract what I said about you not being observant, Sinclair. You are quite right. I never knew my father, but I do, indeed, have an inheritance. Which means that I have a good deal more to offer to a lady such as Miss Emeline than you do.”

He turned on his heel and walked off without waiting for a response.

Anger flashed through Anthony. “Bloody hell,” he whispered.

He pursued Dominic across the coffee room and out into the front hall, where an uneasy porter quickly handed both of them their hats and hastened to open the door.

“Stay away from Emeline,” Anthony said fiercely from the top of the steps.

Dominic came to a halt and spun around. In the harsh glare of the gas lamps, his face was a mask of barely contained rage. “Now, why should I deprive myself of the pleasure of her company, brother!”

“You do not love her.” Anthony went slowly down the steps, hat clenched in his fist. “You seek to use her in order to exact your revenge against me. Admit it, Hood.”

“I do not intend to discuss my interest in Miss Emeline with you.”

“Hell’s teeth, man, this has nothing to do with Emeline. I am the one you want to destroy. Would you hide behind a woman’s skirts to gain your vengeance?”

“Damn you, I could call you out for that insult.”

“Be my guest,” Anthony said. “But at least have the courage to admit why you are challenging me. I ask you again, sir, why do you hate me? Is it because your mother allowed herself to be seduced by our father? You cannot blame me for that. You cannot blame her either. The only one you can fault is Edward Sinclair, and he’s been dead and buried for some fourteen years.”

“Damn you to hell, Sinclair.” Dominic hurled his hat aside and launched himself forward. “Do not dare to mention my mother. Your father ruined her.”

Anthony employed the sliding maneuver that Tobias had taught him and managed to duck his brother’s wildly swinging fist.

Although Dominic’s blow did not strike its target, Anthony was unable to avoid him altogether. The impact of the collision spun him around and carried both of them to the pavement. They rolled together across the hard stones. He found himself struggling to ward off a series of erratically aimed punches while he tried to fight back.

In the heat of the first real fight in which he had ever participated, his brain ceased to function logically. Tobias had warned him that it would be like this. It was impossible to think clearly, impossible to recall the nuances of the art and science of the various pugilistic techniques they had practiced together. Anthony fell back on what seemed blind instinct, not even feeling the pain of Dominic’s blows.

But the lessons Tobias had taught him must have taken root somewhere deep inside, because he succeeded in landing a number of solid-sounding punches to Dominic’s ribs and one to his jaw. Each time he felt a shudder go through his opponent’s body, a fierce satisfaction roared through his veins.

“He never heard the rattle of carriage wheels and horses’ hooves.

The first indication he had that he and Dominic were no longer alone on the street was when he felt himself seized by the collar and hauled forcibly off his brother. He was then dropped rather carelessly onto the pavement beside Dominic.

He opened his eyes, blinked away the blood that blurred his vision, and found himself looking up at Tobias.

A familiar maroon carriage stood a short distance away. Mrs. Lake and Joan Dove peered anxiously from the windows. His first rational thought was that he was in luck. Emeline was not with them.

He sat up cautiously, raising his sleeve to mop the blood he could feel trickling down his face.

“Tobias? What the devil are you doing here?” he muttered.

Beside him, Dominic got to his knees, one hand on his ribs. He watched Tobias warily.

“I apologize for interrupting your entertainment this evening, gentlemen.” Tobias contemplated both of them with cold eyes. “But I happen to be in great need of some able-bodied assistants. There may well be a life hanging in the balance. I would take it as a great favor if you would both agree to continue this wholesome exercise at some other time.”

“What is going on?” Anthony staggered to his feet, grabbing the iron step railing to steady himself. Then the reason for Mrs. Lake’s and Mrs. Dove’s presence in front of a gentleman’s club at this hour finally registered. Excitement flashed through him, temporarily overriding his anger. “Have you found the killer?”

“Mrs. Lake believes we may have identified him,” Tobias said. “But I am not so certain. Nevertheless, we cannot afford to take chances.”

Tobias switched his attention to Dominic. “I propose to mount a clandestine watch on our suspect. I think it would be best to use two men rather than one, in case action is required. Are you interested?”

“Action?” Dominic got to his feet, wincing again. “I don’t understand.”

“If my associate is right, the man is a cold-blooded murderer.

“There is every reason to believe that he plans to kill again. If someone tries to interfere or if he feels cornered, he will likely become desperate and quite dangerous. Better to have two men on hand to stop him in that event.”

“Why do you need me?” Dominic scowled and gingerly touched his jaw. “You’ve got Sinclair and yourself, sir.”

“I cannot spare the time from my inquiries to watch one possible suspect. What about it, Hood? Would you be willing to aid me in this endeavor? As I said, a life may be hanging in the balance.”

“Dominic gave Anthony a quick, unreadable glance and then slowly lowered his hand from his jaw. You think this man will kill again?”

“It is only a matter of time. I will consider myself very much in your debt if you could see your way clear to help me keep this villain under surveillance tonight.”

“I suppose I could afford to spend some time keeping an eye on this suspect for you,” Dominic said carefully.

“Thank you,” Tobias said. “All the murders thus far have occurred at night, so I think we can assume that our killer prefers to act under cover of darkness. Therefore, for the rest of this evening, I want you two to watch his lodgings. You must not let him see you.

“Follow him if he leaves his residence, but do not interfere with him unless he looks as though he is about to commit another act of violence. Is that clear?”

“Who is this person?” Anthony asked, his blood heating again, not with anger but with anticipation of the hunt.

“I was afraid you would ask that question,” Tobias said.

“We’re to keep watch on a bloody hairdresser!” Dominic lounged deep in the shadows of the narrow alley and gazed glumly at the door of Mr. Pierce’s lodgings. “I don’t believe it. How do you suppose he goes about the job of murdering his victims? Do you think he smothers them in wigs?”