A Murder on London Bridge Read Online Free PDF

crime. Others sat alone, smoking and staring into space. It did not look like the kind of place that would yield its secrets easily, so he decided to sit for a while, to assess which patrons might be more inclined to talk – either for money, or because he was holding a knife to their throats.
    He was still observing an hour later, when the door opened and two men walked in. The first wore his fashionable clothes with an elegant rakishness, and exuded the sense that he thought very highly of himself. His companion was also finely attired, but his muscular build and pronounced stoop meant he would never achieve his companion’s careless élan.
    The landlord regarded them warily, and as his other patrons were hardly choirboys, Chaloner’s interest was piqued. The duo took a table near him, so he pretended to be asleep, in the hope that they would speak more freely than if they thought he was awake and listening.
    ‘Mr Phillippes,’ said the landlord, addressing the shorter of the two, and then turning to his friend. ‘And Mr Kaltoff. I am surprised you dare show your faces here.’
    Phillippes made a moue of annoyance. ‘Oh, come now, sir! Can we not let bygones be bygones? We have, after all, been faithful customers for many years.’
    ‘I suppose you have,’ said the landlord begrudgingly. ‘Will it be the usual, then? Rhenish wine?’
    Phillippes inclined his head. ‘You are most kind.’
    ‘I heard the ghost of the old king was seen again last night,’ said Kaltoff conversationally, as the landlord set about serving them. ‘And did you know that the learned men in Gresham’s College are planning an experiment to weigh air tomorrow?’
    The landlord regarded him in mystification. ‘Why would anyone want to weigh air?’
    Phillippes bristled. ‘I will have you know that the weighing of air is a vital scientific objective. I have written a scholarly paper on the matter, and plan to read it to the Royal Society.’
    ‘You have been elected at last, then?’ asked the landlord. He did not sound very interested.
    Phillippes continued to glare. ‘Not yet, no,’ he said stiffly. ‘But it is only a matter of time before they welcome me into their fold. I am the inventor of the Phillippes Tide-Ring, after all.’
    ‘And I built it,’ added Kaltoff proudly. ‘ I turned theory into reality.’
    Chaloner supposed they did look like instrument-makers – men who earned a respectable wage and who were a cut above the average merchant in terms of education and social status.
    ‘What is a tide-ring?’ asked the landlord. The distrustful expression on his face suggested he thought it might be something diabolical.
    Phillippes looked pained. ‘It is a device that calculates the ebb and flow of tides. The King has asked me to design one for him, because it will let him predict when the Palace of White Hall will flood. So has the Earl of Clarendon. Their patronage is a great honour.’
    ‘Phillippes will do the designing, and I shall construct them,’ elaborated Kaltoff. ‘The work of both of us will grace royal eyes.’
    ‘Is that so?’ said the landlord flatly. ‘Then all I can say is that you cannot test them here. You almost demolished my tavern when you tried out your last invention, and I am not having it again.’
    Phillippes winced. ‘How many more times must we apologise? The experiment should have worked, and neither of us understands why it failed.’
    Kaltoff grinned suddenly. ‘But look on the bright side: no one was badly hurt, and you have made a fortune from all the people who drink your ale as they listen to you describe what happened. Besides, we told you not to stand too close.’
    The landlord sniffed, indicating Kaltoff was right. ‘I still have dreams, you know. You have no idea what it was like. There I was, watching you light your special fireworks one moment, then the next, I was blown clean off my feet, while my hat ended up on the roof. My nerves will never recover.’
    ‘It should