Read Online The Janus Affair: A Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences Novel by Pip Ballantine, Tee Morris - Free Book Online
Authors: Pip Ballantine, Tee Morris
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case file.
He opened the folder and held his breath as he read what was written there. Wellington looked up at where the agents’ offices would be.
“You cocksure bastard,” he whispered aloud.
How Wellington hated it when she was right.
Chapter Four
Wherein Miss Braun Takes Some Air and Meets Someone Unexpected
H ow Eliza hated it when he was right.
The man was insufferable, but the rational part of her mind only echoed what Wellington Books had told her: this was a dangerous game she was thinking of playing.
She recalled a frank discussion Harry and she had shared regarding one agent, Timothy Cuthbert, head of the Jamaican office. The “whelp,” as Harry had referred to him, came from a family of wealth and influence, and that was how he’d landed a director’s job in what many considered paradise. The cases coming out of Jamaica, though, were usually dismissive and poorly handled, resulting in the unnecessary deaths of two agents. Agents that were friends of Harry. He had to remain silent, though, as questioning Cuthbert’s judgement would have opened a political maelstrom between offices and government officials.
Cuthbert, however, managed to bring about his own downfall when Doctor Sound made an unexpected visit to the outpost—and discovered Cuthbert managing a rum-running business between Jamaica and the Americas.
After Cuthbert’s ousting, Harry had told her, “ Take care, Lizzie. Even when you have the facts in your favour, you may not be able to openly question another agent’s competency. It’s a silent code we all must adhere to. Eventually, secrets herald one’s downfall. ”
When Eliza emerged into the front shop of the Ministry, most of the paper shufflers in their rows of desks ignored her as they did any agent who entered their domain. Those who had dared to peek up from their work immediately ducked their heads lower and looked even more studious than ever as she passed between them. No one wanted to get in the way of Eliza’s dark glare.
Out on the street it was chilly but beautiful. Damn it, she thought bitterly, I am taking the sodding long way. Let his stomach tie itself into knots for all I care.
“Eliza!”
The woman’s voice broke through her anger and stopped her in her tracks. Turning, she felt her tension abate, if not disappear completely, on seeing Agent Ihita Pujari running to catch up with her. The young Indian woman had only arrived in London the previous month, but already the New Zealand agent had grown very fond of her. They had a somewhat similar sense of humour—though Ihita’s was hidden beneath a layer of gentility. Her sleek black hair was tied in an elaborate braid, but, much as Eliza did, she wore men’s clothing—and wore it well. The effect was even more striking with Ihita’s dark skin and sparkling brown eyes. It was like putting a sleek jungle cat in tweed. It threw her beauty into stark contrast.
“Good morning!” Eliza did her best to conceal her annoyance. It was after all not the other woman’s fault. “Off for a spot of lunch?”
“Yes, Brandon is quite buried in paperwork,” she paused, tucking her hands into her pockets. Her eyes looked aside as her dark skin grew slightly ruddier. “And I know he won’t have a chance to get out.”
Eliza raised one eyebrow. Ihita would not be the first woman to fall under Agent Brandon Hill’s curious charm. If she was lucky he might even notice her.
“You’re fetching something for Agent Books?” It was a neat way of changing the subject, but Eliza was only too ready to let off some steam.
“It serves as an excellent excuse to free myself temporarily from the Archives,” she muttered as she kicked a stone across the street, “lest I break his arm.”
Her companion chuckled, but then, on catching Eliza’s gaze, stopped short. “Oh, I see.”
Their stroll following the curve of the Thames was not what could be called “a scenic walk” such as you might find further up the
He opened the folder and held his breath as he read what was written there. Wellington looked up at where the agents’ offices would be.
“You cocksure bastard,” he whispered aloud.
How Wellington hated it when she was right.
Chapter Four
Wherein Miss Braun Takes Some Air and Meets Someone Unexpected
H ow Eliza hated it when he was right.
The man was insufferable, but the rational part of her mind only echoed what Wellington Books had told her: this was a dangerous game she was thinking of playing.
She recalled a frank discussion Harry and she had shared regarding one agent, Timothy Cuthbert, head of the Jamaican office. The “whelp,” as Harry had referred to him, came from a family of wealth and influence, and that was how he’d landed a director’s job in what many considered paradise. The cases coming out of Jamaica, though, were usually dismissive and poorly handled, resulting in the unnecessary deaths of two agents. Agents that were friends of Harry. He had to remain silent, though, as questioning Cuthbert’s judgement would have opened a political maelstrom between offices and government officials.
Cuthbert, however, managed to bring about his own downfall when Doctor Sound made an unexpected visit to the outpost—and discovered Cuthbert managing a rum-running business between Jamaica and the Americas.
After Cuthbert’s ousting, Harry had told her, “ Take care, Lizzie. Even when you have the facts in your favour, you may not be able to openly question another agent’s competency. It’s a silent code we all must adhere to. Eventually, secrets herald one’s downfall. ”
When Eliza emerged into the front shop of the Ministry, most of the paper shufflers in their rows of desks ignored her as they did any agent who entered their domain. Those who had dared to peek up from their work immediately ducked their heads lower and looked even more studious than ever as she passed between them. No one wanted to get in the way of Eliza’s dark glare.
Out on the street it was chilly but beautiful. Damn it, she thought bitterly, I am taking the sodding long way. Let his stomach tie itself into knots for all I care.
“Eliza!”
The woman’s voice broke through her anger and stopped her in her tracks. Turning, she felt her tension abate, if not disappear completely, on seeing Agent Ihita Pujari running to catch up with her. The young Indian woman had only arrived in London the previous month, but already the New Zealand agent had grown very fond of her. They had a somewhat similar sense of humour—though Ihita’s was hidden beneath a layer of gentility. Her sleek black hair was tied in an elaborate braid, but, much as Eliza did, she wore men’s clothing—and wore it well. The effect was even more striking with Ihita’s dark skin and sparkling brown eyes. It was like putting a sleek jungle cat in tweed. It threw her beauty into stark contrast.
“Good morning!” Eliza did her best to conceal her annoyance. It was after all not the other woman’s fault. “Off for a spot of lunch?”
“Yes, Brandon is quite buried in paperwork,” she paused, tucking her hands into her pockets. Her eyes looked aside as her dark skin grew slightly ruddier. “And I know he won’t have a chance to get out.”
Eliza raised one eyebrow. Ihita would not be the first woman to fall under Agent Brandon Hill’s curious charm. If she was lucky he might even notice her.
“You’re fetching something for Agent Books?” It was a neat way of changing the subject, but Eliza was only too ready to let off some steam.
“It serves as an excellent excuse to free myself temporarily from the Archives,” she muttered as she kicked a stone across the street, “lest I break his arm.”
Her companion chuckled, but then, on catching Eliza’s gaze, stopped short. “Oh, I see.”
Their stroll following the curve of the Thames was not what could be called “a scenic walk” such as you might find further up the
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