Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence #1) - Robert Thier Page 0,122

Linton?’

It took me a few seconds to realize that Mr Ambrose had addressed me. He was still staring fixedly at Simmons, his back to me.

‘Um… yes, Sir?’

‘I haven’t been back in London long, and neither has Karim. We’ve spent years away in the colonies. What kind of street is Penrose Street?’

I cleared my throat. ‘Not a very reputable one, I believe, Sir. It’s one of the names that often comes up in police reports in the papers.’

Simmons nodded eagerly and shuddered. ‘It was a dreadful place, full of coolies and other lowlife. I have no idea why they always wanted to meet there.’

‘I can think of only one explanation,’ Mr Ambrose mused. ‘In case you were caught or followed there, they wanted everybody to think it was low criminals with whom you were consorting. Which makes me think that the exact opposite was the case.’

‘They weren’t criminals?’ I asked, confused.

‘Oh, they were criminals all right. But certainly not low ones. In fact I suspect they were rather high up the food chain. Am I correct?’

Simmons' shudder was more than enough answer.

‘The address?’

‘Number 12, Penrose Street, Sir.’

‘What exactly happened?’

‘They gave me the money and said this was our last transaction. When I asked them why, they said that unlike the other times, this theft would not go unnoticed. They advised me to get out of the country right away. The expression on their faces… I’ll never forget it.’

‘Now we come to the interesting part.’ Mr Ambrose took out his cane and placed the end on Simmons’ chest. I remembered, as no doubt Simmons did, that there was a sword concealed inside it.

‘Who are those “they” you keep talking about? Who hired you to steal from me?’

Simmons paled.

‘I d-don't know. They never gave me their names.’

‘But you do know one name, don't you? It’s useless to deny it, I can see it in your face.’

‘No, I don't! I swear, I don't know anything, Sir!’

Mr Ambrose’s head whipped sideways to glare at Karim, and the Mohammedan retreated under the force of his cold stare. ‘What’s this? I thought you said this man was ready to confess everything!’

Karim looked pretty uncomfortable. I tried not to smile, but it was kind of funny to see that mountain of a man shuffle around like a told-off school boy.

‘He was. I swear to you, Sahib, he was.’

‘Hmm…’

Mr Ambrose turned to his captive again, scrutinizing him intently.

‘You’re scared. That’s why you won’t tell me. You’re scared of this man whose name you won’t speak.’

‘No, Sir! I swear, I don’t know anything! I don’t…’

Mr Ambrose’s cane pressing against his throat cut off his words in a croak.

‘Simmons, let me put it this way: who are you more afraid of - this man or me?’

The ex-secretary opened and closed his mouth like a stranded goldfish, but nothing came out, even when Mr Ambrose drew back his cane.

‘Interesting… apparently it’s a tie?’

Simmons nodded.

‘Well, then think of this.’ Mr Ambrose leant forward and whispered, in a tone so calmly threatening it made the hair on the back of my neck and on some other more delicate place stand up: ‘I have you in my power. He does not.’

Simmons slumped.

‘All right,’ he moaned. ‘All right, I’ll tell you. But only under one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘You let me go and give me a train ticket out of town. If I tell you that name, I’ll need to get out of town, and my legs won’t be fast enough.’

Mr Ambrose didn’t hesitate.

‘Granted.’ He nodded curtly. ‘The name?’

‘I… don't think I was supposed to hear it,’ Simmons said in a low voice, looking around as if he expected somebody to appear out of the air and strike him down. ‘They were talking one day when I arrived early, and I heard it.’

‘The name, Simmons!’

‘The train ticket! You have to swear that I’ll get the train ticket!’

‘I swear! The name, Simmons! Now!’

Simmons looked around and wet his lips again. ‘It’s… It is…’

Suddenly, he stopped and shook his head, gazing at Karim and me out of heavily lidded, tired and very frightened eyes.

‘No! I don't want anybody else to hear it.’

What?

Was he joking? I was on the tips of my toes here!

‘I don't want him to find out,’ Simmons murmured. ‘If he does…’

Quickly he leant forward and whispered something in Mr Ambrose’s ear.

Blast the man!

I had been waiting breathlessly all this time for the solution of the mystery, and now I wasn’t going to hear it? I wanted to clobber Simmons over the head with something heavy, especially when