Matthew Pearl by The Dante Club: a novel

Author:The Dante Club: a novel [novel, The Dante Club: a]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Mystery & Detective, European, Dante Alighieri - Appreciation, Insects, Boston (Mass.), Literary Criticism, Mystery fiction, Historical fiction, Authors, Thrillers, Holmes; Oliver Wendell, Emerson; Ralph Waldo, Italian
ISBN: 9780812971040
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2004-12-15T06:00:00+00:00

The company let out a collective peal of laughter, inflated by a consciousness of relief.

"But we have four thirsts to quench!" Holmes objected.

"Then let us not expect much, my dear doctor," advised Longfellow. Holmes and Lowell followed him down to the basement by the light of the taper's silver gleam. Lowell used the laughter and conversation to divert himself from the shooting pain radiating in his leg, pounding and traveling upward from the red disk covering his ankle.

Phineas Jennison, in white coat, yellow waistcoat, and insistent wide-brimmed white hat, came down the steps of his Back Bay mansion. He walked and whistled. He twirled his gold-trimmed walking staff. He laughed heartily, as if he just heard a fine joke in his head. Phineas Jennison often laughed to himself in this way while rambling through Boston, the city he had conquered, every evening. There was one world remaining to obtain, one where money had severe limits, where blood determined much of one's status, and this conquest he was about to fulfill, in spite of recent hindrances.

From the other side of the street he was watched, watched step after step from the moment he left behind his mansion. The next shade needing punishment. Look how he walks and whistles and laughs, as though he knows no wrong and has known none. Step after step. The shame of a city that could no longer direct the course of the future. A city that had lost its soul. He who sacrified the one who could reunify them all. The watcher called out.

Jennison stopped, rubbing his famously indented chin. He squinted into the night. "Someone say my name there?"

No reply.

Jennison crossed the street and glanced ahead with faint recognition and ease at the person standing motionlessly beside the church. "Ah, you. I remember you. What is it you wanted?"

Jennison felt the man twist behind him, and then something pierced the merchant prince's back.

"Take my money, sir, take it all! Please! You can have it and be on your way! How much do you want? Name it! What say you?"

"Through me the way is among the people lost. Through me."

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