Fierce Poison by Will Thomas

Author:Will Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 18

The next morning, we arrived at our offices at seven-thirty as usual. Barker was poised with his key in front of the lock when he stopped and turned his head. Then he inserted the key and we stepped inside.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in a low voice.

“We’re being watched,” he answered.

I put my hands in my pockets. “What shall we do?”

“Carry on, lad,” he said. “We have a case to solve.”

I turned on the electric lights and looked about, trying to decide whether or not to light a fire. The morning was cool, but The Times had predicted the afternoon would be warm. True, the newspaper’s weather predictions were wrong half the time, but one could never seriously fault so august a publication.

Jenkins came in to report back to the Guv. He was still soldiering through the casework we had given him but he appeared to be enjoying his work. Within ten minutes, he was out the door again.

“He practically has a spring in his step,” I remarked.

“Did he not?” Barker commented.

Five minutes later, a man entered our chambers. I assumed he was the one who had watched us enter the building. I recognized him from the funeral. He was Gwendolyn Halton’s brother, Gerald. The man was tall and muscularly built, with tanned skin and pale hair. His jaw was set, and he appeared to be serious. I read the fellow correctly he was trying to puff himself up to look threatening.

“Mr. Cyrus Barker,” he demanded.

The Guv sat back as if he found our visitor entertaining. “Yes, Mr. Halton. Good morning to you.”

“I understand you insulted my sister when she visited your offices the other day.”

I reached into my pocket and retrieved my notebook.

“No, actually,” I interjected. “I took notes of the conversation. Your sister accused Barker of being an inferior fellow and claimed she would have him sacked, but Mr. Barker was not rude in his reply. She would not answer his questions, so he let her alone.”

“That’s not what my sister told me,” Halton continued. “She said you were hard and rough and you frightened her. She told me you ordered her from your office without revealing anything of your investigation into Roland’s death. She feared for her life. In fact, she claims you are a villain.”

“I’ve been a deacon of my church, Mr. Halton. I have many philanthropic endeavors in the East End. This agency is warranted by Buckingham Palace, and I am investigating Mr. Fitzhugh’s murder at the request of Lord Gladstone.”

“Nevertheless,” our visitor said. “I would have satisfaction.”

Barker’s brows crept up over the lip of his black-lensed spectacles like a pair of spiders.

“You challenge me, anyway?”

“I do, sir,” Halton said.

“Fist, blade, or ball?”

Halton cleared his throat. “The choice is yours, sir.”

Barker leaned back in his chair. “Turn in a circle, then, if I may ask.”

The fellow shrugged and then slowly turned for my partner’s inspection. For mine, as well. I estimated he was taller than Barker, but nearly the same weight. His physique was excellent, but that had little to do with being a fighter.

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