The Death of Me by M. J. Tjia

Author:M. J. Tjia [Tjia, M. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, police procedural, Women Sleuths, Amateur Sleuth
ISBN: 9781789550481
Google: RHxrvgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1789550483
Goodreads: 47512213
Publisher: Legend Press
Published: 2019-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

I lean right back into the cushions of my seat, trying to listen to what the American – what was his name again? – has to say. He is seated with his back to me and, although I can hear that twang of his, I can’t make out actual words. And whoever sits opposite him speaks too low for me to catch anything. What the hell is he doing in Soho? It’s a bit of a rich coincidence him being here. He must be connected in some way with what happened at the Dernier Livre. I scrape and scrape at the last of the pudding with my spoon as I puzzle over the possibilities. He wasn’t Somerscale’s secret contact, because that was the man with the black beard. But there must be some connection. Why else would he be here?

I think of the way he stuck so close to Violette and me. What had he known? What was he up to?

I cock my head, trying to drown out the rowdy clerks, the rumble of conversation, the clinking of cutlery against crockery. I strain to hear what the American is talking about. And who is he talking to? But the damned panelling is in the way and I can’t exactly poke my head around the side to look.

Once the waiter whisks past with a tray of dirty plates, I stuff the book back into my bag and prepare to leave my booth. I will follow him, ostensibly to pay my bill, and I will have a good look at the American’s ‘pal’ on my way.

Taking to my feet, I straighten my skirts and edge a step closer to the partition between the American’s booth and mine. A step further again. But the bench seat opposite the American is now empty. Damn. I sidle towards the back of the restaurant and find my waiter. I’m very tempted to look over my shoulder as I wait for my change, but I resist. Once the bill is settled, I turn and make my way sedately towards the street. As I pass the American I glance his way, and my eyes snag on his. I look away quickly, but not before I see a grin of recognition light his face.

When I enter my temporary home in Green’s Court, I peep into the sitting room on the way to my rooms. Mrs Modesto is seated in one of the chairs, reading.

“You seem to be very busy there, Mrs Modesto,” I say from the doorway.

She looks up. “You may join me, if you please, Miss Charters.”

On my way to the armchair next to hers I peer out the front window. I scan the laneway to see if anyone – the American in particular – has followed me home. Across the way I can see directly into someone’s living room: the lamp on a side board, an overstuffed sofa, square table and chairs, barren grate. A man enters the room and I take a step back behind the curtains.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.