The Hidden Man: A Phineas Starblower Adventure (Phineas Starblower Adventures) Read Online Free PDF Page A

bits of buildings that had been blown beyond the centers of the explosions.
    “
I believe that was Rührberg Sir,” Randal said quietly into the shocked silence of the bridge….
    “Sir? Sir? You a'right?” Daisy’s course voice intruded on Jerard’s bitter memory.
    “I am fine.” Jerard replied wearily. “Bring me three more, dear girl, for the ghosts are not satisfied and I will not grant them any more of my soul today.”
    Daisy’s eyes widened, she had not a clue as to what the gentleman was talking about but she could certainly bring him more gin. After all, most who came in here were looking for something, and gin usually provided it. Who knows? She shrugged, maybe there
were
haunts flying about the ceiling, at least she did not have to serve them too.
    The house was filling quickly with its normal complement of patrons. Jerard could smell the soot and dirt and grease of the great unwashed mass that descended to join his private hell. He normally heard the factory’s whistle that signaled the arrival of this noisy lot but today he had completely missed it, “Damned memories,” he muttered. He placed his back against the wall and put his booted feet up on bench to prevent any from sitting too close. He needn’t have bothered, the regulars had grown used to the ‘gentleman’ who sat in the corner and kept to himself. In fact they were quite happy to leave him to it and carry on in their own ways of forgetting.
    It took Jerard a moment or two to become aware of the stranger that had entered the squalid gin house. He was so out of place as to appear comical. It was obvious that the man was trying desperately to avoid contact with the bar’s other patrons. And yet he scanned the crowd with determination and purpose. Unfortunately it seemed that the man’s purpose might be him. Dear god, Jerard thought, he looks like either a solicitor or an undertaker, all dressed in black with his beaver-hair top hat. Jerard sighed as he realized that indeed this little raven was making his way toward Jerard’s table. What now, he thought
,
haven’t I been through enough?
    “Mister Jerard Phillips?” The dour little man inquired politely.
    “Maybe, Sir. However, I am neither dead nor in need of a solicitor; be gone man before you contract a disease.”
    Jerard nearly laughed out loud at the black clad man’s reaction to his words. If possible he shrank even tighter into his fine wool coat and he paled as if he had looked into the eyes of the plague itself. Jerard watched as the man’s emotions played across his face and for the briefest moment Jerard had to admit, the fellow
had
courage.
    “May I sit Sir? I have several things to discuss with you that I believe you will find of great benefit.”
    “Really?” Jerard said, not bothering to keep the amusement and bitter sarcasm out of his voice. “So you are prepared to buy a round of drinks? You know, share a cup with your newest
old
friend?” Watching the little raven, it was obvious that his barb had struck some kind of mark. Although the quiet realization that the man would rather do anything than have a drink with me echoed at the back of his mind. Oh how the mighty have fallen, he mourned.
    “Ah, well…yes of course. I feel that a spot of refreshment might be just the thing right now.” The man drew himself up, “My name is Lovelace Sir, William Bennett Lovelace, at your service.”
    The little man bowed and preened so much that Jerard could not help himself; an unfriendly laugh escaped. “Mr. Lovelace, I sincerely doubt that you have been at anyone’s service save your own since you became a solicitor or would that be undertaker? I am still not clear on this point.” Phillips sighed. “Go on man, sit down if you dare and have a drink with me.”
    Lovelace stood sputtering at the coarse rudeness of this blackguard before braving the rough wooden bench. “Now Mr. Phillips, I want…”
    “I care not what you want Mr. Lovelace, at least not until you