The Girl in the Dark: A totally gripping crime thriller with edge-of-your-seat suspense (Blake and Byron Thrillers Book 2) by Zoë Sharp

Author:Zoë Sharp [Sharp, Zoë]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781800199040
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2024-03-22T07:00:00+00:00

FORTY

HENRIETTA PLACE, MARYLEBONE

The address on the business card Lex Vaganov had given to Byron turned out to be a stone’s throw from the Wigmore Hall. Dalchetta & Child was an art gallery – or so it appeared. The card claimed the premises was ‘just off Mayfair’. In fact, it was Marylebone.

No doubt, Byron thought with a hint of cynicism, Vaganov spun this to his benefit. For the type of clientele he attracted – and the services he was rumoured to provide – the unlikelihood of bumping into members of one’s social set whilst on or about his premises might be considered a distinct advantage.

Byron had come straight from Kinfolk, happy to have been asked to find his own way after the surprise confession and arrest of Tristram Shelseley.

‘Not the case I thought we’d be on our way to solving today,’ DI Goodwin remarked with satisfaction as they watched the old man shuffling towards one of the squad cars, in handcuffs. ‘But hey, I’ll take a win where I can get it.’

Byron had his doubts about that, but kept them to himself as he watched the bewildered old man taken away. The uniform driving him was scowling furiously, having drawn the short straw for the task. He’d dropped all the windows on the squad car, despite the drizzle beginning to fall and the constant traffic fumes.

But it was not the development in the Shannon Clifford case, however surprising, that brought Byron here now.

Mindful of the rain, he loitered outside the gallery only briefly, studying the two abstract canvasses arranged in the window. There were no prices attached. It gave an impression of the kind of place where, if one needed to ask, one definitely could not afford to buy.

The security system at the entrance meant the staff had to buzz him in. He waited while they inspected him via the camera not quite hidden in the door frame, and tried to make up their minds whether he fitted their customer profile.

Evidently, someone must have sized up his cashmere overcoat – a gift from his late wife – and decided he might just make the grade. The door mechanism released with a click.

A stick-thin, androgynous figure sashayed forwards to greet him as he entered. Hair, lips, and nails were a matching shade of electric blue.

‘How may I help you?’

‘I’m here to see Lex.’ Byron spoke directly towards the lens of another camera, less obvious this time, which was mounted high in a corner behind the counter.

‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think Mr Vaganov is⁠—’

The phone on the counter began to ring. A moment or two later, Byron was descending the stairs to the basement. There were a couple more paintings hung here, spotlighted against stark white walls, and what looked like the entrance to a vault.

Towards the front of the building was an office. Lex Vaganov filled the doorway, watching his approach. He wore a suit so black it seemed to suck in the surrounding light. Once again, Byron felt staid by comparison.

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