Reggiecide (Reeves & Worcester Steampunk Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

dealing with a criminal mastermind now, and you don’t catch criminal masterminds by doing the obvious. They’re far too clever. They’d have used a false name and probably a false beard as well. No, Reeves, we will do the unexpected.”
    “Which is, sir?”
    “We shall return in disguise to the butcher’s. Even a criminal mastermind can’t fool a dog’s nose.”
    “I would not recommend such an action, sir. It is my contention that the only thing filling Farquharson’s nose was the scent of sausages.”
    “I wouldn’t write off Farquharson that quickly, Reeves. His faults may be legion, but his heart’s in the right place. Although there was that strange lump by his right shoulder. Did it appear to be beating to you, Reeves, or was that his canine muscles quivering for the chase?”
    “I tried not to look too closely, sir. I had the opinion that Farquharson was not well-disposed to being stared at.”
    “What was the butcher’s name?” asked Emmeline.
    “A Mr Ernest Durrant, miss. He is not ‘M.’”
    “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t work for ‘M,’” I said. “You yourself brought up the mummy-eating connection. And mummy-eating is just the sort of thing a criminal mastermind would get involved in.”
    “If you say so, sir.”
    “I do say so, Reeves.” It may have been the presence of Emmeline or it may have been Reeves’s disapproving face, but I felt it was time for the young master to exert some authority. “We are going to the butcher’s and we are both going in disguise.”
    “I think not, sir.”
    “Do I have to remind you of your previous life in a cupboard, Reeves? And how it was Worcester, R who freed you from a life of perpetual dust-gathering and spiders?”
    “No, sir.”
    “ I could always go Fortnum’s,” said Emmeline. “I was thinking of buying a new placard and there’s a sale on in the Suffragette Accessories Department.”
    ~
    With Emmeline on the trail of ReVitaCorpse, I dragged a reluctant Reeves to the establishment of Thos. Garderobe, theatrical costumier and purveyor of prime partywear.
    “Yes you do have to be in disguise, Reeves. He’s seen your face!”
    “I would strongly suggest, sir, that only one of us need enter the shop.”
    “Four eyes and ears are better than two, Reeves. We won’t have long in the shop and we need to see and hear all. I can distract him while you root around in the sawdust looking for trap doors. Now Thos, my good man, two of your finest beards, extra long.”
    Five minutes later I was regarding myself in the mirror through my one patchless eye.
    “I think there’s something missing, Reeves, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
    “A parrot, sir?”
    If it hadn’t been for Reeves’s sniffy face I might have been tempted. “There’s many a true word spoken in sarcasm, Reeves. Would you like a parrot?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Then neither will I. We will visit the butcher’s parrotless.”
    I had to attach Reeves’s beard and eye patch myself as, according to Reeves, one of his subroutines had an aversion to facial hair. Something about Babbage’s Second Law of Automata — an automaton must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with good taste .
    One day I will have a serious word with Reeves about his subroutines.
    We left the costumiers looking like a pair of seafaring anarchists. Even Emmeline wouldn’t have recognised us!
    “Am I allowed to make a suggestion, sir?” said Reeves as we climbed back into the Stanley.
    “Does it involve shedding your disguise?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Then suggest away, Reeves.”
    “It would be wise not to park outside the butcher’s in case anyone recognises the Stanley, sir.”
    Even a sulking Reeves is a treasure beyond compare.
    I parked the Stanley by Parliament Gate as it was only a short walk from there to the butcher’s. As with yesterday, there appeared to be a small protest in progress. Not suffragettes this time,