Read Online India Black by Carol K. Carr - Free Book Online

feelings about the subject.) At any rate, I hadn’t given a thought for most of the day to Latham’s missing case or the missing whore. Calthorp’s question brought it all back in a flash.
    “To whom are you referring?” I asked, though I knew damned well who he meant.
    “Arabella Cloud, of course,” said the padre, sipping his tea and wincing at Mrs. Drinkwater’s version of this most innocent of beverages. “I understand that she is no longer with you.”
    “And how did you come by that information?”
    Calthorp looked vaguely around the room. “Why, I believe Mary told me, on Sunday afternoon when I visited.”
    Mary looked mystified at this revelation; no doubt she’d been hitting the bottle again. Between her and Mrs. Drinkwater, it was beginning to feel like the local at closing time.
    “It’s a feature of this vocation, Reverend. Girls come and girls go. Isn’t that right?” I looked around the room for confirmation, and several of my ladies nodded.
    “’Tis indeed,” said Lucinda. “The grass is always a shade greener on the other side of the street, so to speak.”
    “Still,” said Calthorp, “I’d have thought you might have been concerned about Arabella. Something might have happened to her.”
    “And she might be sipping a gin and bitters at the White Hart right now,” I said.
    “Yes, but she could be lying injured somewhere or be in some kind of trouble.”
    “She’s in trouble with me,” said Mary. “She run off with my new tortoiseshell comb.”
    Calthorp looked at me beseechingly, his soft brown eyes glistening with moisture. “I have a premonition that Arabella is in danger and needs your help.”
    I laughed. “I think that’s very unlikely, Reverend. Arabella Cloud can take care of herself.”
    “Still,” he persisted. “Anything might have happened to her out there on the streets. Have you any idea where she might have gone?”
    “None at all. She should never have left if she wanted to stay out of trouble.” I rose briskly. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why Calthorp was so obsessed with Arabella’s whereabouts. Once she’d left Lotus House, she was as good as forgotten, from my point of view. Perhaps she was the proverbial hundredth sheep in Calthorp’s eyes, the other ninety-nine being comfortably ensconced at Lotus House out of harm’s way. In any case, I’d had just about enough of his interference.
    “Girls, run along upstairs and make yourselves presentable. We’ll have customers soon.” I extended a hand to the clergyman. “I must take my leave of you, Reverend. I’ve some letters to write. Good day to you.” I swept out of the room, not leaving him a moment to protest.
    Mrs. Drinkwater caught me up in the hall, veering down on me like a high-altitude balloon navigated by a shortsighted charts-man. “Oh dear, miss. Something shocking.”
    This snared my attention, for after the death of Bowser and Arabella’s flight and the appearance of the mysterious stranger, I shuddered to hear what Mrs. Drinkwater found shocking. But it was only the lack of Cuban cigars, the stock of which had mysteriously vanished from the humidor in the parlor sometime in the wee hours of Monday morning.
    “’Twas that vicious little mongrel, Vincent,” Mrs. Drinkwater growled. “He’s no respect for the property of others.” I daresay she was right.
    “I’ll walk to the tobacconist’s shop and pick up a supply for the evening,” I said. “It’s not gone five yet. I’ve plenty of time.” I pinned on a hat, selected a fetching little cape, took up my parasol and let myself out the front door.
    The lamplighters were at work by then. Dusk had come early tonight, what with the thin drizzle and the nasty yellow brume that seeped into the streets. The gloomy atmosphere reminded me of my last stroll through these streets, when I’d gone in search of Vincent and returned to Lotus House to find someone loitering across the street. I’d no doubt now that