Read Online Magic Lantern (Rogue Angel) by Alex Archer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alex Archer
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professors, plumbers and electricians. She guessed that Edmund didn’t entirely trust his computer to remember everything for him. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t, either. That was one of the reasons she maintained her journals as well as her private blog.
One of the cards caught her attention.
Gaetano Carlini stood out in a heavily embossed but simple font against the grayed image of a rabbit peering over the edge of a top hat. The number on the front of the card was to the club. With difficulty, Annja extracted the card from the plastic holder using her sleeved fingers.
When she flipped the card over, she found another telephone number. Feeling a little better, she tucked the card into the back pocket of her jeans, then continued her search.
Twenty minutes later, Annja was satisfied she’d combed the entire flat. Edmund Beswick lived the cramped life of a confirmed scholar with too much to do and too little space to do it in.
Although Edmund had spoken proudly of the collection of magical props he’d assembled, only a handful of small things occupied the built-in bookshelves in the office area. Decks of playing cards, coins, scarves, cups and balls, and even a gibecière, the large pouch street magicians used to hold props while putting on shows, shared space with the books on magic.
That meant Edmund kept his collection somewhere else.
Annja returned to the card file and flipped through the thick plastic pages till she found three business cards for storage units. Two of the storage businesses were in Chelsea and one was in Mayfair.
She’d been relieved to discover there was no blood in the apartment. If the men had gotten to Edmund, they’d taken him easily enough. She didn’t know if he would tell them about his storage unit. Then she realized almost in the same thought that he would. He would be fearful for his life, for good reason, and wouldn’t hold back when asked.
But what would the Triad do with Edmund when it recovered the magic lantern?
Antsy, ready to move, Annja retreated to the window and climbed out. She took a moment to replace the glass pane in the window so others—less altruistic—wouldn’t be tempted by an easy mark. Then she clambered back down the fire escape.
* * *
ANNJA BOUGHT A CUP OF COFFEE at a pub around the corner, fended off a couple halfhearted attempts at picking her up and retreated to the back area and the phone. She was happy to find one there because public phones were a dying business now that everyone had cell phones. Still, cell phones were known to go dead at inopportune moments.
She switched off her sat-phone because it had a GPS chip in it that would allow police to track her if they wanted to. After she finished speaking with DCI Westcox, she was pretty sure the man would want to find her.
She dialed Westcox’s office and was greeted by a polite male voice. She identified herself and asked to speak with Westcox.
“I’m afraid DCI Westcox is unavailable at the moment, Ms. Creed.”
“I know. He’s working the fourth Mr. Hyde murder.”
The assistant didn’t respond to that.
“I just left him less than an hour ago.”
“I understand that, Ms. Creed, but DCI Westcox asked not to be disturbed—”
“A man has been kidnapped and it might have something to do with Mr. Hyde. Do you think that will interest DCI Westcox?”
“Wait a tick, Ms. Creed.”
Annja sipped her coffee and waited anxiously. She didn’t know if Edmund’s disappearance was connected with the Mr. Hyde murders or not, but it was a way of getting Westcox’s attention. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Ms. Creed, where are you?”
Annja ignored that, but she felt certain that the chief inspector already knew. The landline would show up immediately. If he really wanted to see her, a patrol unit would already be en route.
“Professor Edmund Beswick has been kidnapped.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t have a lot of time to get into this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to find him. I
One of the cards caught her attention.
Gaetano Carlini stood out in a heavily embossed but simple font against the grayed image of a rabbit peering over the edge of a top hat. The number on the front of the card was to the club. With difficulty, Annja extracted the card from the plastic holder using her sleeved fingers.
When she flipped the card over, she found another telephone number. Feeling a little better, she tucked the card into the back pocket of her jeans, then continued her search.
Twenty minutes later, Annja was satisfied she’d combed the entire flat. Edmund Beswick lived the cramped life of a confirmed scholar with too much to do and too little space to do it in.
Although Edmund had spoken proudly of the collection of magical props he’d assembled, only a handful of small things occupied the built-in bookshelves in the office area. Decks of playing cards, coins, scarves, cups and balls, and even a gibecière, the large pouch street magicians used to hold props while putting on shows, shared space with the books on magic.
That meant Edmund kept his collection somewhere else.
Annja returned to the card file and flipped through the thick plastic pages till she found three business cards for storage units. Two of the storage businesses were in Chelsea and one was in Mayfair.
She’d been relieved to discover there was no blood in the apartment. If the men had gotten to Edmund, they’d taken him easily enough. She didn’t know if he would tell them about his storage unit. Then she realized almost in the same thought that he would. He would be fearful for his life, for good reason, and wouldn’t hold back when asked.
But what would the Triad do with Edmund when it recovered the magic lantern?
Antsy, ready to move, Annja retreated to the window and climbed out. She took a moment to replace the glass pane in the window so others—less altruistic—wouldn’t be tempted by an easy mark. Then she clambered back down the fire escape.
* * *
ANNJA BOUGHT A CUP OF COFFEE at a pub around the corner, fended off a couple halfhearted attempts at picking her up and retreated to the back area and the phone. She was happy to find one there because public phones were a dying business now that everyone had cell phones. Still, cell phones were known to go dead at inopportune moments.
She switched off her sat-phone because it had a GPS chip in it that would allow police to track her if they wanted to. After she finished speaking with DCI Westcox, she was pretty sure the man would want to find her.
She dialed Westcox’s office and was greeted by a polite male voice. She identified herself and asked to speak with Westcox.
“I’m afraid DCI Westcox is unavailable at the moment, Ms. Creed.”
“I know. He’s working the fourth Mr. Hyde murder.”
The assistant didn’t respond to that.
“I just left him less than an hour ago.”
“I understand that, Ms. Creed, but DCI Westcox asked not to be disturbed—”
“A man has been kidnapped and it might have something to do with Mr. Hyde. Do you think that will interest DCI Westcox?”
“Wait a tick, Ms. Creed.”
Annja sipped her coffee and waited anxiously. She didn’t know if Edmund’s disappearance was connected with the Mr. Hyde murders or not, but it was a way of getting Westcox’s attention. She didn’t have to wait long.
“Ms. Creed, where are you?”
Annja ignored that, but she felt certain that the chief inspector already knew. The landline would show up immediately. If he really wanted to see her, a patrol unit would already be en route.
“Professor Edmund Beswick has been kidnapped.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t have a lot of time to get into this.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m trying to find him. I
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