exclaimed with a dawning look of horror
on his face, as if he’d just realized Daniel’s predicament. “This is a muddle,
isn’t it?”
“Erudite as usual,” Daniel told him, pointing at him and
winking. “Always were the clever one, weren’t you?”
“At least I’m pretty,” Simon said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Ashbury said wistfully, and Robert looked as if
his other dog had died.
Daniel sighed and looked regretfully down at his now cold
breakfast. Nothing would be right around here until she was gone.
Chapter Eight
“What do you see?” Simon asked as Daniel leaned against a
building, one leg bent behind him with his foot on the brick wall. They were
watching the offices of Ashbury and Son, a name that Daniel found extremely
ironic. Simon turned away to spit out a seed from the orange he was eating.
“I don’t see anything except you acting like a vulgar
ruffian,” Daniel admonished. “Must you spit things about?”
Simon laughed and took another bite of orange. “We’re on the
docks,” he told Daniel. “No one cares. They’re probably thrilled I’m spitting
orange seeds and not something entirely more disgusting.”
“I am not thrilled,” Daniel told him, shading his eyes as he
watched the people inside through an open door. “And since I’m the one who has
to stand beside you, please refrain from spitting in my general direction.”
“Keep it up and I’ll spit on your boots,” Simon growled.
“What have you learned so far?”
“If you had gotten your lazy arse out of bed this morning
you’d already know what I know,” Daniel snapped. “Instead you wander out here
when the sun is halfway through the sky and nearly expose my surveillance.”
Simon looked around with an exaggerated alarmed look.
“Egads, you’re right. The miscreants are converging on us now. Er, soon. Any
moment now.” He paused and looked around expectantly. “Nope, not a one in
sight. I think you’re safe.”
“You were much funnier in the war when people were shooting
at you.”
“So were you,” Simon said with a shrug. “Such is life. So
what do we know?”
Daniel sighed, feeling very put upon. “I discovered this
morning that the Ashburys are not very well liked among their competition,
which normally wouldn’t be surprising. But this goes beyond the norm. There’s
fear associated with them. I saw it in the eyes of the people I spoke with. No
one wants to talk about them, and if they do they’re looking over their
shoulders. There were some mumblings about shady dealings, bribes. The
consensus seems to be that they’re dirty, particularly the cousin who’s set to
inherit, Theobald Ashbury, old Ashbury’s nephew. But most distressing was the
insinuation that the deaths of some of their competitors were no accidents.”
He’d been shocked and saddened by the revelation that
Harry’s family was indeed vicious and cruel, as his wife had suggested. He
simply couldn’t picture Harry growing up amid that sort of atmosphere. No
wonder he’d left. What was harder to understand was his returning to his family
all those years ago, when he’d left Daniel. Had Harry truly thought returning
to them was a better alternative than staying with Daniel? Not for the first
time that morning he sighed in disgust and frustration. This was exactly why
he’d never looked for Harry’s family or investigated them before. He hadn’t
wanted to know, hadn’t wanted the sort of doubts and misery assailing him now.
“How did they die?” Simon asked, tossing his orange peel
into the street.
“Was that your breakfast?” Daniel asked, trying to keep the
horror from his voice.
“Yes, quite healthy. Now answer the question.”
“I had perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs.”
“You always have perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs. And
when I want some, too, I drag my arse out of bed and over to your house. How
did they die?”
“I’m not sure yet. Descriptions range from ‘mysterious
circumstances’ to
on his face, as if he’d just realized Daniel’s predicament. “This is a muddle,
isn’t it?”
“Erudite as usual,” Daniel told him, pointing at him and
winking. “Always were the clever one, weren’t you?”
“At least I’m pretty,” Simon said.
“Yes,” Mrs. Ashbury said wistfully, and Robert looked as if
his other dog had died.
Daniel sighed and looked regretfully down at his now cold
breakfast. Nothing would be right around here until she was gone.
Chapter Eight
“What do you see?” Simon asked as Daniel leaned against a
building, one leg bent behind him with his foot on the brick wall. They were
watching the offices of Ashbury and Son, a name that Daniel found extremely
ironic. Simon turned away to spit out a seed from the orange he was eating.
“I don’t see anything except you acting like a vulgar
ruffian,” Daniel admonished. “Must you spit things about?”
Simon laughed and took another bite of orange. “We’re on the
docks,” he told Daniel. “No one cares. They’re probably thrilled I’m spitting
orange seeds and not something entirely more disgusting.”
“I am not thrilled,” Daniel told him, shading his eyes as he
watched the people inside through an open door. “And since I’m the one who has
to stand beside you, please refrain from spitting in my general direction.”
“Keep it up and I’ll spit on your boots,” Simon growled.
“What have you learned so far?”
“If you had gotten your lazy arse out of bed this morning
you’d already know what I know,” Daniel snapped. “Instead you wander out here
when the sun is halfway through the sky and nearly expose my surveillance.”
Simon looked around with an exaggerated alarmed look.
“Egads, you’re right. The miscreants are converging on us now. Er, soon. Any
moment now.” He paused and looked around expectantly. “Nope, not a one in
sight. I think you’re safe.”
“You were much funnier in the war when people were shooting
at you.”
“So were you,” Simon said with a shrug. “Such is life. So
what do we know?”
Daniel sighed, feeling very put upon. “I discovered this
morning that the Ashburys are not very well liked among their competition,
which normally wouldn’t be surprising. But this goes beyond the norm. There’s
fear associated with them. I saw it in the eyes of the people I spoke with. No
one wants to talk about them, and if they do they’re looking over their
shoulders. There were some mumblings about shady dealings, bribes. The
consensus seems to be that they’re dirty, particularly the cousin who’s set to
inherit, Theobald Ashbury, old Ashbury’s nephew. But most distressing was the
insinuation that the deaths of some of their competitors were no accidents.”
He’d been shocked and saddened by the revelation that
Harry’s family was indeed vicious and cruel, as his wife had suggested. He
simply couldn’t picture Harry growing up amid that sort of atmosphere. No
wonder he’d left. What was harder to understand was his returning to his family
all those years ago, when he’d left Daniel. Had Harry truly thought returning
to them was a better alternative than staying with Daniel? Not for the first
time that morning he sighed in disgust and frustration. This was exactly why
he’d never looked for Harry’s family or investigated them before. He hadn’t
wanted to know, hadn’t wanted the sort of doubts and misery assailing him now.
“How did they die?” Simon asked, tossing his orange peel
into the street.
“Was that your breakfast?” Daniel asked, trying to keep the
horror from his voice.
“Yes, quite healthy. Now answer the question.”
“I had perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs.”
“You always have perfectly cooked beefsteak and eggs. And
when I want some, too, I drag my arse out of bed and over to your house. How
did they die?”
“I’m not sure yet. Descriptions range from ‘mysterious
circumstances’ to
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