Poison in Piccadilly (A Fiona Figg & Kitty Lane Mystery) by Kelly Oliver

Author:Kelly Oliver [Oliver, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

16

THE JOURNEY

By the time I got back to my flat, Clifford was waiting for me in front of the building. I recognized his burgundy car, which he kept polished to a sheen. I waved. He sat in the driver’s seat, his pipe clamped between his teeth. When he saw me, he rolled down his window.

“Where have you been?” he asked impatiently. “I’ve been driving around the block for the last half hour.”

“Sorry. I’ll just grab my things.” I reached in and laid my hand on his shoulder and then handed him the package containing Horace Peabody. “Only take a minute.” It was unlike him to be early. Something must be wrong. I left him puffing and dashed upstairs, threw things into a suitcase, then hurried back out to the curb. When Clifford pulled up again, I tossed my case into the back and climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“Captain Hall said two o’clock.” I smoothed my skirt. “Why are you here already?”

“You’re always complaining that I’m late and now… now when I’m early…” He threw up his hands.

“How is Kitty?” I regretted I hadn’t had time to check on her. “Is her memory getting any better?”

“Good Lord, no.” Clifford removed his pipe. “She won’t stop talking about assassins.” He shook his head. “Poor girl is delirious. I couldn’t take another minute of her ranting about the shortcomings of Arthur Balfour, Basil Thomson, and other pals of mine.” He replaced his pipe and puffed. “They’re not bad chaps. Just because they’re patriots and don’t believe women should run the country.”

Did he say “run” or “ruin”? I glared over at him. “We’d be a lot better off if women did run the country,” I huffed. “All men do is make war and enslave other men.”

“And you think women could do better?” He glanced over at me. “I mean, all women aren’t like you… They’re not as clever and level-headed.” He chuckled. “You’re practically a man.”

Some compliment. Although I did enjoy the comfort of trousers, especially on a cold day. But clothes don’t make a man. Women didn’t need to be like men to run the country. Women were perfectly capable of being feminine and clever and leaders. If only men thought so too. Thankfully, some men did—or at least they’d voted for suffrage. I was looking forward to the day that I could vote. Another five years and I’d turn thirty. Then I could finally go to the ballot box.

“Except for your aversion to hunting.” He puffed his pipe. “Foxes are one thing. You should try lions in the Serengeti.” He laughed again. “I remember this one time…”

Here we go. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the window.

I must have slept through the Serengeti. When I awoke, Clifford was recounting hunting tigers in India. “Ghastly sport. Taking another life just to prove you can. No wonder this bloody war is dragging on and on.”

“I say.” He looked hurt. “War is one thing, sportsmanship quite another.”

Had I said it out loud? Fiddlesticks.

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