Read Online Garden of Lies by Amanda Quick - Free Book Online Page B

assume the worst?”
    â€œI have decided to assist you in your investigation.”
    â€œWhy?” she shot back. “The last time we spoke you made it perfectly plain that you were opposed to my plan.”
    â€œIt has become obvious that there is no point trying to talk you out of the scheme so I have concluded that the most reasonable course of action is to do what I can to help you find the answers you seek—always assuming there are answers to be had.”
    â€œAssuming that, yes.” She drummed her gloved fingers on the seat. “I would appreciate some advice and, perhaps, even your assistance but first I want to know why you changed your mind.”
    â€œI thought I explained. I changed my mind because I realized you would not change yours.”
    â€œWhy not simply let me conduct the investigation on my own? Why do you feel obliged to help me?”
    An unexpected smile came and went at the corner of Slater’s mouth. “You sound suspicious of me, Mrs. Kern.”
    â€œI do not think you are giving me the whole story, sir. Why this sudden interest in my problems?”
    Slater glanced out the window. He appeared to be reflecting on his answer. When he turned back to face her she saw cool determination in his eyes.
    â€œLet’s just say that after some consideration I concluded that I find your project intriguing,” he said.
    â€œI see.”
    She had gotten her answer but she was not sure what to make of it. She was not even certain why she was vaguely disappointed in his reason for assisting her. But she had to admit that the logic was sound. It seemed plausible that a man of his nature would be drawn to something as unusual as a private murder investigation. He had, after all, spent the past few years wandering the world. Obviously he had been looking for something, although she very much doubted that he knew what he hoped to find.
    â€œHow did your first appointment with Lady Fulbrook go?” Slater asked.
    She shuddered. “The house is quite grand but it is incredibly dark and gloomy inside. I cannot decide if the atmosphere is so bleak because the lady of the house is depressed or if it is the atmosphere of the place that is responsible for Lady Fulbrook’s sad mood. Her only solace, evidently, is her conservatory.”
    â€œYou said she employed Miss Clifton to take down her poetry in shorthand and type up the results?”
    â€œYes. Lady Fulbrook has attracted the attention of the publisher of a small literary quarterly in New York. The title of the poem that she is working on now will give you a fair indication of her mood. ‘On a Small Death in the Garden.’”
    â€œIt does not sound like the sort of thing that would lift the spirits,” Slater said. “But poets are supposed to be a moody, depressed lot. It’s a tradition, I think. Is Lady Fulbrook any good at writing poetry?”
    â€œYou know how it is with literature and other works of art—the beauty of the finished piece is always in the eye of the beholder. Speaking personally, I am not attracted to depressing poetry just as I am not attracted to books or plays with unhappy endings.”
    At that, he actually smiled. It was, she concluded, an annoyingly superior smile.
    â€œYou prefer fantastical endings rather than those which illustrate reality,” Slater said.
    â€œIn my view there are cheerful endings and sad endings but they are all fantastical by definition—otherwise they would not be classified as fiction.”
    That surprised a short, rusty laugh from him. He seemed as surprised as she was by his reaction.
    â€œVery well,” he said. “You established that Lady Fulbrook writes melodramatic poems. Was that all you accomplished today?”
    â€œIt was only my first day in the post. I did not expect to discover all the answers in one afternoon. And by what right do you presume to criticize? You are only just now joining the