No One Notices the Boys by Michelle Birkby

Author:Michelle Birkby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

That was all I dare ask her. I didn’t want to upset her any more. She never said a word about it when she gave me the finished dress later. The lace collar was a perfect touch. I looked five years younger. She would have made a fortune in her shop.

Despite Grace’s disapproval, Mary and I left again, though this time I insisted we catch a cab for our second task of the day. Sarah Malone’s home was just at the other end of Regent’s Park, a brisk thirty-minute walk, but I was still tired from the day before. As Mary held out her hand for a cab, I pulled back.

‘Not the first one,’ I told her. ‘Nor the second one.’

‘That’s Sherlock’s rule for when he thinks he’s being followed,’ Mary commented. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have no idea,’ I told her. I had felt a tingle on the back of my neck, just a slight one, as if someone was watching me steadily. But, when I turned to look, no one was there.

Well, I say no one. Baker Street was never entirely empty. A grocery boy was arguing with the telegraph boy. Several businessmen marched up and down, not as important as they thought they were. A one-legged veteran sold matches. A woman huddled up in a plaid shawl hurried along the street. Two of Wiggins’ boys were following a corpulent man with a gold watch-chain. A dainty woman in purple stepped around the horse manure as she crossed the street. A young woman swaddled in three shawls walked up and down selling ham sandwiches. ‘I thought someone was watching me.’

‘They’re more likely to be watching for Sherlock than us,’ Mary said reasonably. ‘Come on, here’s the third cab.’

I couldn’t shake the feeling though. As the cab turned out of Baker Street and into Park Road, I thought I saw a familiar face. I peered out of the window, but she had gone in a flash.

‘What?’ Mary asked. ‘Who did you see?’

‘Lillian Rose,’ I told her. The clever, wily prostitute I’d met when tracking down the blackmailer, half his victim, half his cohort. We’d sent her to Scotland. What was she doing back here, in London?

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