The Yard by Alex Grecian

Author:Alex Grecian
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Group, Inc.
Published: 2012-05-28T22:00:00+00:00

44

The sound of wood clattering on wood snapped Cinderhouse awake as if from a trance, and he ducked to retrieve the fallen hanger. He felt around under the desk for it, his face hidden from the sergeant for a precious minute or two.

They had the shears. How did they have the shears? And so quickly?

It hadn’t been more than a few hours since Cinderhouse had thrown them from the window of the hansom into the road. He’d expected the shears to be swept up by early morning street sweepers, along with the previous day’s horse-shit. Or perhaps found by some vagrant and whisked away into the bowels of London’s tenements.

And yet, here they were, almost immediately at Scotland Yard, in the custody of the new detective.

Was the man that good? Was Detective Walter Day the enemy he had always feared might come for him?

At least they didn’t seem to know that Pringle was dead.

His fingers closed around the hanger. He composed his expression, stood up, and draped the trousers over the hanger, giving himself a moment before turning his attention back to the sergeant.

“Are you quite all right?” Kett said.

“Yes, of course. Please forgive me. I’m just so fascinated by detective work that I get too excited sometimes.”

“Quite all right.”

“The shears … Are you sure they’re the murder weapon?”

“You’d have to ask the detectives that.”

“Of course, of course. I only bring it up because I’m so used to working with shears myself. You might call me an expert. I’d be happy to look them over and lend the detective my opinion, if you think it would do any good.” He smiled, hoping that the smile looked genuine.

Kett looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the big hall and the tiny, fenced-off domain of the Murder Squad.

“I don’t think—”

“I’m not a policeman myself, of course,” Cinderhouse said, “but my close association with the force puts me in a unique position, don’t you think?”

“I’ll leave a message with the detective and have him get back to you.”

“I really think I can help,” Cinderhouse said.

He stepped around Kett and walked down the short hall. He ignored the large area to his right and went straight to the low railing that surrounded twelve cluttered desks in a corner of the big open space. He started to open the gate in the rail but was stopped short by Sergeant Kett’s hand on his arm.

“Here now,” Kett said. “I’d hate to do anything nasty when we’ve been so cordial up to this point.”

Cinderhouse put his hands up and smiled again. “I don’t mean any harm,” he said. “It’s the thrill of being able to help these fine gentlemen. You understand. Surely you understand.”

“And I hope you understand that I can’t let every citizen off the street in here to muck with evidence in a murder case.”

“I’m hardly a citizen. You might even call me an auxiliary policeman, since I clothe you all. At least I like to think of myself as such, and I’m awfully proud to be of service to you fine gentlemen.

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