He was almost barged out of the way, which should have given her some warning.
The only-too-familiar figure of Detective Constable Napier strode into the room.
“Well,” he gloated, “it reallyisyou.”
Not the best but the worst of all possible situations.
*
Solomon Grey lethimself into the offices of Silver and Grey with a quiet sense of satisfaction.
It felt almost like the first, exciting day they had opened, both he and Constance abuzz with the anticipation of their new venture into the private inquiry business. If he was honest, most of his excitement had been to do with Constance herself and the heady opportunity of seeing her every day as they worked together. He had known then it would either cure him of his obsession or confirm it. Foolishly, he had even hoped it would distract her completely from her other business, her “establishment.” It hadn’t, of course, but he had more understanding now, and more tolerance.
The establishment was so much more than a high-class brothel. And Constance herself was so much more than he had begun to guess even then. More than simply his friend, or his secret infatuation.
She was his wife, and she had taught him joy.
His skin prickled with memory and expectation as he hung his hat on the stand in the hall. He didn’t even mind that theestablishment was her first concern on their return to London. She would join him here later.
“Janey?” he called, extracting a couple of letters from the box in the front door. He was looking forward to seeing her again, all bright, intelligent eyes and wayward tongue—quite aside from his need to learn what had been happening with the business. They had taken a chance leaving it in Janey’s hands, perhaps, but she had proven trustworthy, sensible, organized, and even surprisingly good at the inquiring.
But, of course, it was too early. She would probably be late today because she still lived at the establishment and Constance would be there. Strolling along to Janey’s little office, he found it empty. Her desk was neat, the closed appointment diary in the center.
He glanced through it and discovered no new appointments before next week. Walking through to the little kitchen, he lit the stove to make tea, then wandered off to his office. A large pile of letters had been left on his desk—all hadAnsweredscrawled across the top, together with a date. On the other side were short reports, some with letters attached, of cases she and Lenny Knox had managed to deal with.
Solomon smiled, impressed, as he read them through. He and Constance had talked about taking on another girl to do the reception work, freeing Janey for more actual investigating. Before the wedding, the amount of work had certainly justified it.
When he had made his tea, he took the cup and saucer back to his desk and began to plow his way through the waiting correspondence. It was only when the knocker sounded that he thought to glance at his watch. It was after nine o’clock.
Had Janey forgotten her key? Rising, he went to the front door, and discovered Lenny on the doorstep.
Lenny’s thin, sad face lapsed into a sudden smile. “Hullo, Mr. Grey! Good to see you home!”
“Thank you.” Solomon stood aside to let the man in.
“Janey not here yet?” Lenny said. “I was going to help her with a lost property case.”
“I suspect she’s with my wife.” Solomon still liked saying that. He thought he always would. “Cup of tea?”
“Go on, then. How is your wife?”
Although Lenny asked quite naturally, Solomon immediately thought of the man’s own wife, who had died so tragically along with their child less than a year ago, in the collapse of a slum building. He had come a long way in these months, returning gradually to life and picking up what carpentry work he could, along with helping Silver and Grey out on a casual basis.
“She is very well,” Solomon replied. “And we both want to compliment you on the work you did in the house while we were away. We’re very happy with it.”
Lenny nodded. “I was pleased with it—glad you approve.”
“Come through to the office and tell me the news. I expect you’re more concise than Janey.”
“She makes her points,” Lenny said mildly, and yet it was somehow defensive of Janey.
Interesting.
They had drunk their tea and briefly discussed the solved cases and the current one when Lenny shifted restlessly and looked at his battered old watch.
“She should be here by now, or at least have sent a boy with a message. It’s not like her.”
Solomon frowned. “You’re right. It isn’t.” A vague but ominous alarm was seeping into his bones. “Something must be wrong.”
