The Mystery Woman (Ladies of Lantern Str - By Amanda Quick Page 0,82
be a problem.”
“Because you won’t stop looking for me,” Beatrice said quietly.
“No,” Joshua said. He met her eyes. “Not ever.”
Abigail watched him intently. “You believe that Lancing’s first objective is to get rid of you?”
“That is certainly the strategy I would employ if I were in his place,” Joshua said. “He knows how I think, but the reverse is also true. I know his ways as well as he knows mine. After all, we were both trained by the same man.”
“But it is the assassin you must deal with first, not Lancing,” Beatrice said.
“The assassin is Lancing’s vulnerable point,” Joshua said. “The skull-faced man is the one person who knows how to get to Lancing. The thing about hired killers is that one must pay them on a regular basis. That means there is always a rendezvous point. When I have that, I will have Lancing.”
“But first you must draw out the assassin,” Beatrice said. “If you don’t use me as bait, what will you use?”
“Myself,” Joshua said. “He will be in a vengeful mood after two failures. His pride will make him reckless.”
Beatrice caught her breath. “Joshua, I must tell you that I don’t think that is a good plan—”
The muffled sound of an explosion in the basement stopped the conversation cold.
“Good grief,” Abigail said. She jumped to her feet and rushed toward the door. “Sara? Are you all right? Sara.”
Beatrice and Joshua followed Abigail out into the hall and down to the first floor. At the top of the basement stairs they stopped. Tendrils of smoke and the scent of powerful chemicals wafted up from the basement.
“Sara,” Abigail called anxiously. “Answer me.”
Sara appeared at the bottom of the steps. She climbed quickly through the drifting vapors. When she reached the doorway she stripped off her mask and goggles and gave them a triumphant smile.
“Good news, Mr. Gage,” she said. “I think I know the name of the apothecary who supplied the chemicals for the smoke devices and very likely for that Egyptian Water you described, as well. There is only one person in London who can be relied upon when it comes to obtaining rare and exotic chemicals like these.”
“Only one?” Joshua asked.
“As far as I am aware, Mrs. Grimshaw in Teaberry Lane is the only apothecary I know of who specializes in the preparation of compounds and formulas that possess paranormal properties.”
Thirty-Eight
If you say I told you so one more time I may be forced to take drastic action,” Joshua warned.
“Your threats do not frighten me in the least,” Beatrice said. She waved one gloved hand in an airy gesture. Yes, she was gloating, she thought, but she simply could not resist. “I trust that the next time I inform you that there is evidence of a paranormal nature you will pay closer attention to my conclusions.”
They were sitting in Joshua’s anonymous carriage. Henry, the driver, had stopped at the entrance to Teaberry Lane because the ancient cobbled passage was too narrow for the vehicle.
The lane was choked with fog. It was impossible to make out the sign above the apothecary shop but there was a faint glow in the window, indicating that the establishment was open for business.
Beatrice was intensely aware of the prowling energy that seethed in the intimate confines of the vehicle’s cab. The cold, tightly controlled anticipation of the wolf on the hunt was emanating from Joshua. She knew that he would not believe her if she informed him that there was a dark heat in his eyes so she did not mention it.
“I am not convinced that Mrs. Marsh was able to identify the apothecary because she detected traces of paranormal energy in the chemicals,” Joshua said. “But I have always respected her scientific talents. I don’t doubt for a moment that she observed something in the fluid that led her to her conclusions.”
“But you’re quite certain that whatever she detected was not of a paranormal nature,” Beatrice said.
“I believe I have mentioned on more than one occasion that there is no need to resort to the paranormal for an explanation whenever one encounters a phenomenon that one cannot otherwise explain.”
“Whatever you say,” Beatrice murmured. “You are, of course, the expert when it comes to criminal investigation.”
He shot her a quick, suspicious look. She smiled sweetly and blinked a few times.
“Huh.” He shook his head and cracked open the door. “You can forget the air of innocence. It does not work on me, remember?”