Murder Is Come Again Read Online Free PDF Page B

deal of money,” she said, batting her big blue eyes at him. “An officer’s half pay doesn’t go far when you have two kiddies to raise all by yourself.”
    “Ah, you lost your man in the war,” Coffen said with a tsk of sympathy, which did not deter him from realizing she was presently unattached.
    “Shot in the heart,” she said with a doleful sigh. Then she began sashaying about the room with Coffen at her heels, admiring the swinging of her rump and the powerful wafting of some floral perfume in her wake.
    Black stepped up beside her. “This is hardly a suitable house for kiddies,” he said. “You’ll have noticed the tavern next door.”
    She tried batting her eyes at him. “A lady in my position can’t be too particular, Mr... “
    “This is Black, my –” Coffen came to a halt, hardly knowing what to call him.
    “I’m Mr. Pattle’s factotum,” Black said, having heard the word from Prance.
    “Ah, one of them,” she said with a wise nod, and turned back to Coffen. “The price is firm, is it? I wonder now, could you take a wee mortgage? Or rent the place?”
    “Mr. Pattle’s eager to sell outright,” Black said.
    Coffen glared at him, then turned a kinder face to Mrs. Filmore. “Why don’t we go somewhere and discuss it over tea, Mrs. Filmore? I’m sure we could come to terms.”
    “Just the two of us. That sounds grand, Mr. Pattle. I could just do with a nice cuppa.” She gave a bold toss of her curls in Black’s direction and led Coffen out.
    Black was not a Bible-reader, but the phrase lamb to the slaughter flashed into his mind. “I’ll walk home then, will I?” he called to Coffen’s retreating back.
    “Suit yourself, Black,” Coffen said over his shoulder.
    Black hired a hackney to Marine Parade and called on his former employer, Lady Luten. She sat in the garden, reading under the linden tree.
    His heart lurched at the sight of her, so pretty in this little bower, with the shadow of leaves in sunlight dappling her face. He’d been in love with her for years, without ever betraying it by so much as a wayward leer. In his dreams, he was her very dearest friend and unofficial guardian, Lord Blackmore.
    “Any luck with the house?” she asked, indicating a seat beside her.
    “I fear we’re in trouble, milady,” he said. “A wretched female has walked off with Mr. Pattle.” He proceeded to empty his budget.
    “She doesn’t sound so bad, an officer’s widow with two children,” Corinne said.
    “You didn’t see her. A regular trollop. The only officer that one knows is a Bow Street Officer, or my name’s not Black. And she’ll end up getting more than the house out of him too. He’s too soft. You know how he let his servants bilk him for years, and he didn’t even like them. Besotted, milady. That’s how he looked. She’ll have easy work bleeding him.”
    “Oh dear. What should we do, Black? Would you have any acquaintances in town who might know more about her?” She was always careful not to refer to his former associates as his friends.
    “Not yet, but I’m working on it. Now if we were in London I’d know someone who knew her, but Brighton’s not my miloo.” Since joining the Berkeley Brigade Black had been studying French to smarten himself up.
    “Bring him over to see me when he gets back. I’ll think of some excuse to see him. We’ll try to talk sense into him.”
    “Aye, best to nip this in the bud.”
    When Mr. Coffen had still not returned at nine o’clock that evening, Black went to call on the Lutens. They were enjoying a quiet evening at home, alone together. Luten’s political work left them little time for this luxury in London. Corinne had informed Luten what was afoot, however, and he greeted Black eagerly.
    “Where is he?” Corinne asked. “Where’s Coffen?”
    Black tossed up his hands. “I wish I knew! He never came back to the hotel.”
    Corinne’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh dear! What do you think has happened to him?