The Ripper Deception: A Lawrence Harpham Murder Mystery Book 2 by Jacqueline Beard

Author:Jacqueline Beard [Beard, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dornica Press
Published: 2019-03-08T16:00:00+00:00

Violet tiptoed towards the grimy window of the Public House. Even from the outside, she could hear a cacophony of voices and the screech of a poorly played fiddle. She rubbed the glass with her glove, and a circle of light appeared through the dirt. She peered inside. The large room was full of people. Two men in grubby jackets leaned against the bar. A small, squat dog stared possessively towards his master who wore baggy trousers and a wideawake hat. He listened intently to another man who sloshed the contents of his glass over the floor as he spoke. Large barrels occupied one side of the bar. A group of women rested their drinks on top while they chatted. All were unkempt, with dirty clothes and matted hair. Another barrel propped up a skinny man, almost insensible from drinking. His glass lay upended on the sawdust floor.

“I’m not going in there,” said Violet.

Lawrence looked inside. “It’s not that bad,” he said.

“Look,” Violet pointed. At the far end of the room, a man's fleshy hand gripped a girl by the throat. She was young, in her teens. Her older and rounder companion waved a chubby finger menacingly in her face, his own a mask of rage.

“Perhaps you are right,” said Lawrence.

“We should go back. It isn’t safe anywhere.”

“Hang on a minute. That’s D’Onston in there.”

“It can’t be?”

“It is, I tell you. I wonder what he’s doing. He looks a mess.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I think so, though his clothes are different. He must be in disguise. He’s talking to another fellow. A real ruffian.”

“Then you had better leave him alone.”

“I want to know what he’s doing here so close to White’s Row.”

“I doubt it matters.”

“Give me five minutes, Violet. I want to get close enough to hear what they are saying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. D'Onston was furious last time he saw you. Anything could happen.”

“He won’t see me. I’ll walk around the bar and stand by the pillar. I should be able to hear them without them noticing me.”

“What about me?”

“Come along. You’re wearing black. I don’t think you will stand out. Just don’t get too close to him.”

“I’m not going in there, Lawrence, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Well, stay here then. There’s plenty of light from the window. You can come and find me if you get worried.”

“You’re impossible,” said Violet turning her back against the window. She crossed her hands and stared across the street as Lawrence walked into The Paul’s Head. The door banged shut, and Violet was alone. The road was empty save for a grey-haired woman hobbling in the direction of Bell Lane. The temperature had dropped further, and clouds covered the moon. The raucous sound of the fiddle that had irritated Violet before was strangely comforting. She returned to her spy hole in the window to check Lawrence’s progress. He was still close to the door and a woman was talking to him. She had evidently been drinking, and Lawrence was trying to disentangle himself from her clutches.

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