Read Online Blind Trust by Susannah Bamford - Free Book Online

small eyes moved over Tavish, missing nothing. “If you’ll follow me, please. I like to leave this room for my daughter’s use at this time of day.”
    Tavish bowed. “Of course.” How civilized we all are, he thought, following Hinkle’s broad back across the hall. My friend has been murdered and perhaps this man is involved. Most likely, in fact. And I am talking to him and bowing to him and admiring the beauty of his daughter instead of wrapping my fingers around his beefy neck and choking the information I want out of him. Not before exacting a little revenge in the nether regions of course. Just in case he was thinking of having more eloquently eyebrowed daughters.
    Hinkle closed the door of the study and went immediately to the middle of the room. He did not sit down and did not invite Tavish to do so. “State your business,” he said.
    Tavish strolled to the rose marble fireplace. “This is a lovely room, Mr. Hinkle.” His voice was low, unhurried, and if Jamie had been there he would have recognized the tone and tried to hide a grin.
    â€œState your business, sir.”
    Tavish turned, surprised. There was genuine loathing in the man’s tone.
    â€œWhat is it that you want, Mr. Dargent?” Hinkle spit out. “You may think you and your friends have me under your thumb, by God, but I am losing my patience, sir. I am tempted to expose your dirty little scheme, and damn the consequences!”
    Tavish raised his eyebrows. Hinkle’s face grew mottled.
    â€œDo not toy with me, sir. I warn you!”
    This was too good to be true. So Hinkle hated Dargent. Interesting. Tavish held up a hand. “I am not toying with you, Mr. Hinkle. But you seem to be under a misapprehension as to my visit. I’m not Mr. Dargent. As a matter of fact, I’m looking for him. That’s why I’m here.”
    â€œAnd who are you then, damn you?” he sputtered.
    â€œAh, I assume that is a request for an introduction. Tavish Finn, at your service, sir, from Solace, California. You’ve met my partner, Jamie Alden, in San Francisco. My late partner.”
    Hinkle blanched but only said, “You have my interest, Mr. Finn.”
    â€œGood. Mr. Alden asked you a number of questions about the Pacific Improvement Company, which you refused to answer.”
    â€œPerhaps, Mr. Finn,” Hinkle said, his face still slightly pale, “you will tell me now why you want this information.”
    â€œOf course. This company,” Tavish said easily, walking over to a box that promised to contain cigars, and did, “had perpetuated a number of outrages against my town, familiar enough in these times, I suppose. But still—”
    He lit the cigar, and took his time about it. Hinkle stirred restlessly. “We thought they went too far. There’s the bribe, first of all. Very common, we weren’t surprised. Pay us this money or our railroad will not pass through your town. We raised it. We’re not a rich town, though a nice one. Northern California—a little lumber, a little fishing. Both industries, you’ll note, dependent on the railroad to survive. So we paid the bribe, and the company took it, and then the company pocketed the money and built the depot ten miles up the coast, which is now a burgeoning little company town. Of course, we might have let it rest there—who could fight such a company? But then the company went after our industries. They raised the rates on the railroad for our lumber, trying to drive the local companies out of business and considerately offering to buy them out. We like to own our own industries in Solace. So we thought that we should find out a bit about this company, which seemed to have only one representative, who promptly fell off the face of the earth. So,” Tavish said, puffing on his cigar, “Jamie Alden and I ended up in San Francisco, searching for Mr. Dargent, the man who we discovered