Read Online Twelve Minutes to Midnight by Christopher Edge - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christopher Edge
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Alfie, glancing back in concern. Around them, the shrieks and bellows of the crowd had swallowed Penelope’s cry of pain, nobody paying it the slightest bit of attention.
Penny nodded, a blush of embarrassment rising to her cheeks.
“I’m fine,” she replied through gritted teeth, ignoring the throb of her ankle. “Let’s find Bradburn and Jenkins.”
With a grin, Alfie motioned towards a hodgepodge of beer-stained tables clustered around a miserable-looking fire. At one, Jenkins sat glumly sipping a mug of ale, whilst the burly frame of Bradburn loomed over him. From beneath the brow of her cap, Penelope could see the orderly’s lips moving in a constant snarl, but she couldn’t hear a single word over the babble of voices that filled the room.
“We’ve got to get closer,” she said.
Keeping her head low, Penny bustled her way towards the fireplace and then hunkered down at a table a few feet away, her back to the two men. As Alfie joined her, she strained her ears to make out the sound of their voices.
“But where are the papers?” Jenkins whined. “We agreed – I’d let you take a handful at a time as long as you returned most of them the very next day, but the entire office was empty.”
The low growl of Bradburn’s voice cut the clerk’s whine into silence.
“They’re safe, that’s all you need to know. And you keep your mouth shut, unless you want Dr Morris to find out how all those patients’ valuables ended up in a Drury Lane pawnbroker’s shop.”
Penny heard Jenkins splutter in protest.
“Now where are last night’s papers?” Bradburn demanded.
There was a rustling sound. Penny risked a swift glance over her shoulder to see Jenkins pull out a thin brown envelope from inside his jacket and hand it over to Bradburn’s grasping hand.
“Where are the rest of them?” the orderly snarled.
“This is all I could get,” Jenkins moaned in reply. “Since the Midnight Papers disappeared, Dr Morris has set up a new system for collecting the patients’ writings. He’s now keeping them in the safe in his own office. These are all I could take before he locked them away.”
Bradburn let out an angry growl.
“Well, you need to try harder next time,” he warned him. There came a harsh squealing sound as the orderly pushed back his chair from the table and rose to his feet. “Remember: if you break our agreement, then I’ll break your neck.”
In the grimy reflection from her tankard, Penelope watched as Bradburn shoved his way through the heaving throng, before his burly frame disappeared out of the door to the street beyond. Left alone at the table, Jenkins buried his head in his hands with a choking sob.
“You stay here with him,” Penny whispered to Alfie. “I want to see where Bradburn goes now.”
Leaving Alfie keeping a watchful gaze over the clerk’s dejected figure, she quickly left the pub. Bradburn was already some thirty paces ahead, striding purposefully up the road. Slipping the threadbare overcoat from her shoulders, Penny dropped it back beside its owner, still slumped in the gutter, but now happily clutching a bottle of gin.
The fog was starting to lift, but Penny stuck close to the shadows as she followed Bradburn’s trail. He was leaving the streets of the riverside slums behind as he headed west in the direction of the more genteel districts of Knightsbridge and South Kensington. The crisp, clean crowds of businessmen and ladies of leisure parted with disdain as Bradburn’s coarse figure passed, but the orderly didn’t even glance back as he strode grimly on.
Keeping him in sight, Penny hurried down the wide promenade, the shops and houses becoming grander with every step that she took. A young gentleman tipped his hat to her as she passed and Penny felt herself beginning to relax. In the distance, the grand buildings of the Victoria and Albert Museum rose high above the Cromwell Road, the sweeping curves of its architecture partly obscured by
Penny nodded, a blush of embarrassment rising to her cheeks.
“I’m fine,” she replied through gritted teeth, ignoring the throb of her ankle. “Let’s find Bradburn and Jenkins.”
With a grin, Alfie motioned towards a hodgepodge of beer-stained tables clustered around a miserable-looking fire. At one, Jenkins sat glumly sipping a mug of ale, whilst the burly frame of Bradburn loomed over him. From beneath the brow of her cap, Penelope could see the orderly’s lips moving in a constant snarl, but she couldn’t hear a single word over the babble of voices that filled the room.
“We’ve got to get closer,” she said.
Keeping her head low, Penny bustled her way towards the fireplace and then hunkered down at a table a few feet away, her back to the two men. As Alfie joined her, she strained her ears to make out the sound of their voices.
“But where are the papers?” Jenkins whined. “We agreed – I’d let you take a handful at a time as long as you returned most of them the very next day, but the entire office was empty.”
The low growl of Bradburn’s voice cut the clerk’s whine into silence.
“They’re safe, that’s all you need to know. And you keep your mouth shut, unless you want Dr Morris to find out how all those patients’ valuables ended up in a Drury Lane pawnbroker’s shop.”
Penny heard Jenkins splutter in protest.
“Now where are last night’s papers?” Bradburn demanded.
There was a rustling sound. Penny risked a swift glance over her shoulder to see Jenkins pull out a thin brown envelope from inside his jacket and hand it over to Bradburn’s grasping hand.
“Where are the rest of them?” the orderly snarled.
“This is all I could get,” Jenkins moaned in reply. “Since the Midnight Papers disappeared, Dr Morris has set up a new system for collecting the patients’ writings. He’s now keeping them in the safe in his own office. These are all I could take before he locked them away.”
Bradburn let out an angry growl.
“Well, you need to try harder next time,” he warned him. There came a harsh squealing sound as the orderly pushed back his chair from the table and rose to his feet. “Remember: if you break our agreement, then I’ll break your neck.”
In the grimy reflection from her tankard, Penelope watched as Bradburn shoved his way through the heaving throng, before his burly frame disappeared out of the door to the street beyond. Left alone at the table, Jenkins buried his head in his hands with a choking sob.
“You stay here with him,” Penny whispered to Alfie. “I want to see where Bradburn goes now.”
Leaving Alfie keeping a watchful gaze over the clerk’s dejected figure, she quickly left the pub. Bradburn was already some thirty paces ahead, striding purposefully up the road. Slipping the threadbare overcoat from her shoulders, Penny dropped it back beside its owner, still slumped in the gutter, but now happily clutching a bottle of gin.
The fog was starting to lift, but Penny stuck close to the shadows as she followed Bradburn’s trail. He was leaving the streets of the riverside slums behind as he headed west in the direction of the more genteel districts of Knightsbridge and South Kensington. The crisp, clean crowds of businessmen and ladies of leisure parted with disdain as Bradburn’s coarse figure passed, but the orderly didn’t even glance back as he strode grimly on.
Keeping him in sight, Penny hurried down the wide promenade, the shops and houses becoming grander with every step that she took. A young gentleman tipped his hat to her as she passed and Penny felt herself beginning to relax. In the distance, the grand buildings of the Victoria and Albert Museum rose high above the Cromwell Road, the sweeping curves of its architecture partly obscured by
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