Read Online Avery & Blake 02 - The Infidel Stain by M. J. Carter - Free Book Online
Authors: M. J. Carter
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unlike Wedderburn’s but a good deal larger, with a long counter and shelves arranged with prints, worn volumes, pamphlets and chapbooks. Behind the counter was a short, square man with a rubicund face and a jaunty manner.
‘Welcome, sir! It is always good to see a real gentleman in the shop. What might I help you with? Anything in particular you seek? I have a fine collection’ – he gestured at his dog-eared stock – ‘and plenty more out back.’ He winked.
‘I would indeed be grateful for some help. I have just seen Mrs Wedderburn next door; I should like to ask you a few questions about her husband’s death.’
The man’s congenial manner vanished. ‘We will have none of that in here. I sell books and pamphlets, that is all.’ He looked over my shoulder as the door opened and one of the eager youths came in. ‘If you wish to buy something, all well and good. If not, get out of my shop. I’m saying nothing.’
‘I have been formally engaged to look into Mr Wedderburn’s demise,’ I said.
‘Be off with you! I have nothing to say about that matter. We do not talk about it here. Get out!’
Blake was standing outside.
‘It did not go well?’
‘No.’
‘Did you offer to buy something?’
‘No.’
‘Good idea to smooth the feathers first. Some’ll be happy to talk, others won’t, not in front of the customers – bad for business. Next time you put some money down and ask to speak somewhere quiet. Likely he’s frightened being right next door to the murder.’
‘Or knows more and is hiding it.’
‘That too. Next time, wait for me.’ He was taken by a fit of coughing and bent over, wheezing, shooing my attempts to help him. ‘Find me Matty Horner,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch my breath.’
It took a while to come upon the girl. My inquiries were met with suspicious looks, but eventually the judicious application of a sixpence caused her to be revealed to me. She was of middling height, but looked smaller because she was so slight. She wore a black bonnet – so old and faded it was almost purple – pulled as far forward as it would go to shield her ears from the wind, and a large stringy plaid shawl that swamped her. She carried a basket.
‘Sell you some cress, sir, or a nice juicy apple?’ She seemed very young, though her voice was husky from shouting her wares. Her dress was not far off a rag and the bottom was edged with an uneven ink-black stain. Her face was pale, dirty and pinched with fatigue. But she had a bright, agreeable manner and a ready smile, which distinguished her from most on the street. I looked at the things in her basket. It seemed dishonourable to purchase a sorry bunch of cress merely to retain her attention, but I retrieved a small coin and pointed out an apple less wizened than the rest.
‘Miss Matty Horner?’ I said as she handed it to me.
The smile disappeared. ‘Who wants to know?’
I removed my hat. ‘My name is Captain William Avery, I have been asked to look into the death of Nat Wedderburn. I think you knew him.’
She took a step back. Her eyes darted from side to side as if shewere looking for some means of escape. I took hold of her basket. It felt like the act of a cad.
‘Let go of me,’ she said loudly. Heads turned.
‘Miss Horner,’ I said, flustered and speaking hurriedly, ‘please hear me out. I have just seen Connie Wedderburn. I know that you found Mr Wedderburn’s body. I cannot imagine how dreadful that must have been for you. My friend Mr Jeremiah Blake and I are determined to find the man who did this appalling thing. But we need your help. I am loath to ask you, but we need to speak to you about what you saw. We would, of course, be willing to pay for your time.’
The girl considered. I hoped my courteous words would have some effect. And I still held her basket.
‘You are
determined
, are you, Captain?’ she said sarcastically. ‘Owe you money, did he?’ Her expression became sly, but oddly this merely
‘Welcome, sir! It is always good to see a real gentleman in the shop. What might I help you with? Anything in particular you seek? I have a fine collection’ – he gestured at his dog-eared stock – ‘and plenty more out back.’ He winked.
‘I would indeed be grateful for some help. I have just seen Mrs Wedderburn next door; I should like to ask you a few questions about her husband’s death.’
The man’s congenial manner vanished. ‘We will have none of that in here. I sell books and pamphlets, that is all.’ He looked over my shoulder as the door opened and one of the eager youths came in. ‘If you wish to buy something, all well and good. If not, get out of my shop. I’m saying nothing.’
‘I have been formally engaged to look into Mr Wedderburn’s demise,’ I said.
‘Be off with you! I have nothing to say about that matter. We do not talk about it here. Get out!’
Blake was standing outside.
‘It did not go well?’
‘No.’
‘Did you offer to buy something?’
‘No.’
‘Good idea to smooth the feathers first. Some’ll be happy to talk, others won’t, not in front of the customers – bad for business. Next time you put some money down and ask to speak somewhere quiet. Likely he’s frightened being right next door to the murder.’
‘Or knows more and is hiding it.’
‘That too. Next time, wait for me.’ He was taken by a fit of coughing and bent over, wheezing, shooing my attempts to help him. ‘Find me Matty Horner,’ he said. ‘I’ll catch my breath.’
It took a while to come upon the girl. My inquiries were met with suspicious looks, but eventually the judicious application of a sixpence caused her to be revealed to me. She was of middling height, but looked smaller because she was so slight. She wore a black bonnet – so old and faded it was almost purple – pulled as far forward as it would go to shield her ears from the wind, and a large stringy plaid shawl that swamped her. She carried a basket.
‘Sell you some cress, sir, or a nice juicy apple?’ She seemed very young, though her voice was husky from shouting her wares. Her dress was not far off a rag and the bottom was edged with an uneven ink-black stain. Her face was pale, dirty and pinched with fatigue. But she had a bright, agreeable manner and a ready smile, which distinguished her from most on the street. I looked at the things in her basket. It seemed dishonourable to purchase a sorry bunch of cress merely to retain her attention, but I retrieved a small coin and pointed out an apple less wizened than the rest.
‘Miss Matty Horner?’ I said as she handed it to me.
The smile disappeared. ‘Who wants to know?’
I removed my hat. ‘My name is Captain William Avery, I have been asked to look into the death of Nat Wedderburn. I think you knew him.’
She took a step back. Her eyes darted from side to side as if shewere looking for some means of escape. I took hold of her basket. It felt like the act of a cad.
‘Let go of me,’ she said loudly. Heads turned.
‘Miss Horner,’ I said, flustered and speaking hurriedly, ‘please hear me out. I have just seen Connie Wedderburn. I know that you found Mr Wedderburn’s body. I cannot imagine how dreadful that must have been for you. My friend Mr Jeremiah Blake and I are determined to find the man who did this appalling thing. But we need your help. I am loath to ask you, but we need to speak to you about what you saw. We would, of course, be willing to pay for your time.’
The girl considered. I hoped my courteous words would have some effect. And I still held her basket.
‘You are
determined
, are you, Captain?’ she said sarcastically. ‘Owe you money, did he?’ Her expression became sly, but oddly this merely
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