01 These Lost & Broken Things by Helen Fields

Author:Helen Fields
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Sofia told Mrs Hasselbrook she was visiting to repay her debt for the physician who had treated Tom. She felt a twinge of guilt at misleading her but it was a necessary lie. Vinsant maintained the pretence of being pleased to receive her until Mrs Hasselbrook left the room.

‘Explain yourself,’ he hissed. Her answer was a gun pointed at his chest. He took a casual step back, smiling.

‘What is it you think you’re going to achieve? You can’t shoot me here.’

‘You’re damned right I can’t. I couldn’t shoot anything with this!’ Sofia slammed it on the desk.

‘I see,’ said Vinsant. ‘That’s the reason for this impromptu visit, is it? You think I knew.’

‘Are you denying it?’ she spat. ‘Because last night felt very much like I was being sent to my death.’

‘A fate which plainly did not come to pass. I had no idea the gun would fail to fire. Think about it. If you’d been killed or captured at Loftis’ house it would only have been a matter of time before someone linked you to me. That gun has been in my cabinet for years. The truth is I never had cause to use it. I take it the gentleman came off worse.’

‘He won’t be conducting any more cases,’ she said.

‘Good. Here’s half your payment.’ He handed her an envelope but Sofia didn’t bother to count the notes. The only reliable thing about Vinsant so far had been his money. ‘The remainder will be set against your gambling debt. I have another task for you. Joseph Carlisle, the Member of Parliament. The details are in the envelope.’

‘But it was just yesterday,’ Sofia gasped. ‘You can’t ask me again so soon!’

Vinsant ignored the complaint. ‘House visits to me are forbidden. Get control of your paranoia, Mrs Logan. You are far more valuable to me alive than dead and if I preferred you in the latter state it would not be left to chance.’

It was a dismissal. She considered a retort but decided against it, closing the door harder than she’d intended, only to come face to face with Mrs Vinsant.

‘Are you quite all right, Mrs Logan?’ Beatrice asked, her voice low, her eyes on her husband’s study door.

‘Thank you, yes. I was visiting to settle a debt I owed Mr Vinsant.’

Beatrice stared at her cheek. ‘That looks painful,’ she said. ‘What happened?’

‘The children were playing bat and ball. Serves me right for getting in the way,’ Sofia murmured. ‘I should be on my way.’

Thorne’s scarred face appeared from the stairwell. He nodded stiffly at Beatrice as he passed then entered Vinsant’s study.

‘Come to the parlour with me a moment,’ Beatrice said, leaving Sofia no choice but to follow her obediently down the stairs. Mrs Vinsant sat down on a two-seat sofa, patting the cushion next to her.

‘I hope my husband’s not bullying you, Mrs Logan. We can do without repayment of any money you might have been loaned. You could have come to see me about it.’

‘With respect Ma’am, it was your husband who helped me when I needed it.

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