Miss Cheney's Charade by Emily Hendrickson

Author:Emily Hendrickson [Hendrickson, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1994-01-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Peter turned with curiosity to greet the man the footman showed into the workroom. He’d never met an actual Bow Street Runner, although he had heard numerous stories about them.

This man was a rough-looking character, of medium height and neatly dressed, although not stylish. That he failed to remove his flat beaver hat amused Peter rather than annoyed him. The fellow probably was a former pugilist; he looked the part, with a nose that appeared to have been broken sometime in the past.

“I understand one of your servants was shot while going about his business,” Harry Porter said, coming directly to the point after offering his identity.

When Peter gestured to the nearest chair and suggested Mr. Porter be seated, the man sat with obvious reluctance and looked as uneasy as a man totally out of his milieu can look.

True.” Peter perched atop one of the stools, then gave the particulars as he knew them. When finished, he said, “Have a look around, if you will.”

The Bow Street Runner wandered about the room, examining all the cases exhibiting the antiquities from Egypt, pausing to study the unwrapped mummy. This object seemed to fascinate him, for he shook his head a number of times before continuing his inspection of the workroom. Then he hooked his thumbs in his red vest and squinted sharp blue eyes at the hole in the window where the bullet had entered.

“As you can see, whoever shot Radley must have done so from that roof over there.” Peter pointed to the opposite building. “Since my man was moving about, the villain had to be a crack shot.”

“Know anybody who might be wantin’ to take this here Radley’s life?” The Runner’s voice was slightly raspy, as though his windpipe had once been badly injured.

“None,” Peter said patiently. “But I am known to have a number of valuable antiquities stored in this room. It might be a Frenchman, hired to acquire several of the objects for their national collection.” Briefly, Peter explained what he had been told.

“Or?” the Runner inquired, narrowing his eyes as he studied Peter.

“It could be someone who desires the mummy or the necklace for other reasons,” Peter suggested.

The Runner shook his head again. “Wide field, that.”

Peter agreed. “Could be a chap who needs money.” But he offered this reason without a great deal of conviction. When the thought had first occurred to him, he had dismissed it, for there were far easier ways to snabble a bit of the ready than attempt to sell such well-known items.

Mr. Porter wandered back to study the mummy again. “A market for these, is there? Queer thing to steal.”

“There are a few people who believe a mummy possesses special healing properties. They have been used for a long time, but never proven effective. Yet, you know how it is—if someone becomes convinced, that is what he or she must have.”

“Hmm,” Porter replied, beginning to stroll about again. “I’d like to talk to your butler, this Radley, if I can. Maybe he can tell me something else, seein’s as how he was here.

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