Read Online The Cocoa Conspiracy by Andrea Penrose - Free Book Online Page B

pines. An outcropping of weathered granite rose up from the center of a tiny clearing. It was the spattering of bright crimson on the gunmetal gray stone that had first caught the earl’s gaze. However, as he came closer, he saw what had caused it.
    Crouching down, Saybrook placed a finger on the side of the man’s slashed throat. “No pulse,” he murmured as Mellon came up behind him. “But the flesh is still warm.”
    Mellon closed his eyes and, repressing a gag, quickly looked away. “Why would someone deliberately shoot at you?” he croaked, once he had recovered his voice. “Have you been stirring up any trouble?”
    “Not that I know of.” Saybrook sat back on his heels. “And yet, trouble seems intent on rearing its ugly head.” Expelling a grunt, the earl went on to explain about seeing a man sneak into the woods just before the shot.
    “And you didn’t recognize the fellow?”
    Saybrook shook his head. “No, but I’m certain this is not him. The man I saw was dressed like a member of our shooting party, in heavy woolens and a broad-brimmed hat.” He felt inside the corpse’s moleskin jacket, and then made a check of the pockets. “There’s nothing that might help identify him.”
    Mellon nudged the short-barreled gun lying half buried in the russet needles. “You were right about the rifle.”
    “Yes.” The earl checked the firing mechanism and frowned. “And it’s equipped with the latest mercury fulminate percussion caps.” Flicking away a grain of gunpowder, he looked up at his uncle. “A design that is only available to our elite military regiments.”
    “Christ Almighty,” whispered Mellon. “I fear something very sinister is afoot here.”
    “As do I, Charles. As do I.” Thinning his lips, the earl wiped a bloody hand on his breeches. “You know, it might not have been me that the shooter was aiming at. Rochemont was right in the line of fire as well.” He paused. “Is there any reason our government might be unhappy with the French émigré community in London? Rochemont is one of its leaders, and while they were a useful wartime ally, now that the monarchy has been restored to France, their loyalty will lie with a foreign sovereign and a foreign country.” A pause. “So perhaps they are no longer viewed as a friend.”
    Shouts rose from the edge of the grove before his uncle could answer.
    “I sent our ghillie to raise the alarm,” explained Mellon. He stood and called an answer to the group.
    A few moments later, a half dozen of their party were milling around the macabre scene, their shocked murmurs underscoring the agitated whine of the bird dog.
    “Good God, what happened?” demanded a pale-faced Enqvist.
    Mellon lifted his shoulders. “Someone shot at Lord Saybrook. We gave chase”—he shuddered—“and stumbled upon this.”
    “The devil take it, you’re wounded, Saybrook!” exclaimed Bellis, one of Mellon’s associates in the Foreign Ministry.
    All eyes fixed on the dark stain spreading over the torn fabric of his coat.
    “The bullet merely grazed me,” replied the earl.
    “I can’t say that I blame you for slitting the cur’s throat,” muttered Bellis, casting a look at the knife in Saybrook’s hand.
    “No, no—Saybrook didn’t kill him,” protested Mellon. “As I said, we found the fellow with his throat already cut.”
    One of the men coughed. Several shuffled their feet.
    “We’ll need to bring the body back to the manor house,” said Bellis. “The local magistrate will have to be summoned and an inquest arranged, seeing as there’s been a violent death.”
    Mellon gave a brusque wave to the ghillie. “Go, man, and bring back the cart, along with a few of your sturdiest fellows.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    The servant hurried away, and the others slowly followed.
    Saybrook rose and carefully slid his blade back into his boot. When he looked up, it was to find Grentham watching him, a scimitar smile curled on his mouth.
    “ Tut , tut .