Liz Carlyle - My False Heart.pdf by My False Heart (v1.0)

Author:My False Heart (v1.0)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Books

Make no mistake, Antoinette, this is the end.

Wilson dropped his gaze from the note and stared at his feet, stalling for time, trying to think of something that might mitigate the damage.

"Well?"

"It would appear to be his penmanship, yes."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson." The runner rose from his chair. With a troubled mind, Wilson stood up and followed him through the door.

"Please tell his lordship that I may need to speak with him personally," added Jones as they started down the stairs. "And tell him something else, if you would?"

"Certainly," agreed Wilson, turning to glance at him.

"Tell him that his friend Lord Cranham has made a miraculous recovery. It seems the devil does indeed look after his own."

They had arrived at the front door, which Wilson held open as the runner took his leave. "Certainty, Mr. Jones," he replied, now having regained a little of his aplomb. "But if you don't mind my giving you a word of advice?"

"No, not at all," answered the runner, looking rather intrigued. "We can always use a little help in Bow Street."

Wilson forced down his nausea and dredged up what little haughtiness he possessed. "Try barking up Lord Cranham's tree, sir, and see what comes crawling down. You might be surprised to find that there are others with a motive for murder. He and Miss Fontaine had been keeping company of late, I believe."

Albert Jones merely nodded, shoved his hat down hard on his head, and stepped out onto the marble steps. He turned back to face Wilson. "I can assure you, sir," he answered with perfect calm, "that the feet had not been lost on me. Of course, there is a question about the tuning, Lord Cranham having been somewhat indisposed. Unfortunately for me, the uncertainty about precisely when the murder occurred makes almost anyone suspect."

Wilson nodded stiffly. "Thank you, at least, for keeping an open mind."

"You are quite welcome," replied the runner. Then he turned and went down the sweeping marble steps at a fast clip.

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