The Sugared Game by KJ Charles

Author:KJ Charles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, 1920s, pulp, adventure, romantic suspense, bisexual
Publisher: KJC Books
Published: 2020-08-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

It was a late night, and Will awoke far too early the next morning to the insistent ringing of the telephone. He made his way downstairs, cursing the device, and answered without charm. “Darling’s Used and Antiquarian. What?”

“It’s Beaumont,” said the hurried, tinny voice at the other end.

They were to meet him and the returning Mrs. Appleby this morning. Will said, “Everything all right?”

“No. We can’t meet you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m afraid, that’s bloody why! That brute Fuller has been shouting in all our faces since you pulled that stunt the other day. Those hostesses you were with have both been sacked—I hope you’re proud of that—and I had Mrs. Skyrme interrogating me about you. She knew I’d had dinner with you, she wanted to know what we’d talked about—”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said we were in the show together, that’s all, that I didn’t know anything else. And she asked me if I was going to meet you again, and whether I’d bring my girl! What the hell is going on?”

It sounded like Mrs. Skyrme was abreast of Kim’s interest in her activities. “She’s got the wind up,” Will said. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Means we’re on the right track. Still, we’d better not meet at my place—”

“We’re not going to meet at all! Aren’t you listening? I can’t risk my job, and I can’t risk her setting Fuller on me. Whatever Brabazon’s problem is, it’s his problem. Leave us alone.”

“Don’t be a damn fool,” Will snapped. “It’s your problem because your girl’s in it up to her eyebrows. Mrs. Skyrme is afraid of being found out, and if I were Mrs. Appleby I’d be very worried about that. Or do you think Mrs. Skyrme will trust her not to talk?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Will pressed his advantage. “You’ve got two choices here. Let Mrs. Skyrme carry on doing as she pleases, or help Brabazon go after her. I hope you’re not giving in.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beaumont snapped. “This isn’t Flanders, and you should have kept your nose out of my business. Just leave us alone.”

Will had walked back from Kim’s at two in the morning through dark streets, and for all the afterglow of extreme discourtesy on the carpet, he’d been aware of every shadow and every footstep behind him. It was barely six now, his bare feet were freezing, and the kettle wasn’t even on. “You turn up or I’ll report her,” he said flatly. “The police can find out what Mrs. Appleby’s been smuggling, and deal with it. No skin off my nose.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I’ll find a place to meet that isn’t here. Call me back at nine. If you’re late, I’ll ring the Old Bill.”

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