The Humbug Murders Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned from it, hugging herself uncomfortably.
    â€œCharmed, Miss Owen,” Rutledge said. “And my apologies at, well, ignoring you until now. This whole matter has been most confounding.”
    â€œYes,” I interjected, “it has been a most shocking and confusing time. For instance, Humperdink’s assertion that Miss Owen is my lady friend—”
    â€œCouldn’t be further from the truth,” Adelaide assured him. “I’m actually considering an offer of employment from Mr. Scrooge, even as we speak.”
    I tossed a thoroughly vexed look her way, which she caught and deftly returned with a sparkle in her lovely eyes.
    â€œIn what capacity?” the other woman asked. The woman’s delicate complexion was blotched from tears, and her wide blue eyes were red from crying.
    â€œDomestic, of course,” she said quickly. “Though I do dream of one day owning a business of my own. A millinery, I should think. I do so adore hats. Yours is truly enchanting for this Christmas season!”
    â€œYes, Miss Pearl,” I added. My onetime associate, Jacob Marley, had been quite taken with her and had dragged me to several of her performances a few years back. I’d stayed awake through at least one. “Nellie Pearl, charmed to meet you in person. Yes, I recognize you, of course. The Lady of Shalott posters are all over town.”
    â€œBut you have not seen it yet?” she asked.
    â€œI—”
    â€œI will have tickets sent to you.” The actress curtsied politely and sat down on a small wooden stool, still eyeing me uneasily.
    â€œAnd Mr. Shen Kai-Rui here is with the House of Liu,” said Sunderland. “He is a powerful lobbyist within the East India Trade Company.”
    Miss Owen smiled and delivered a half-curtsy, all one might manage in these cramped confines.
    The handsome Chinese man turned away disdainfully and would not meet my gaze. “A moneylender? I do not associate with common muck snipes .”
    I bristled at the accusation that I was a person of low morals or a vagrant but let it go. I was more interested in the intense gazes Shen cast at the clearly unreceptive Nellie Pearl.
    Sunderland threw open his hands, a born orator. “What the drunkard said is true. Each of us, separately, as we did not personally know one another before this morning’s unpleasant events, received a summons from, ah, the deceased. He asked us to meet him here at seven precisely on a matter of great importance. I have no idea how many of these summonses he may have sent throughout London, but we four were respondents. We arrived, we found him, we called the constable. And from the moment they arrived, we have been treated like criminals.”
    I could not restrain a smirk. Crabapple’s tactics were consistent, if nothing else.
    â€œIs this funny to you?” the foreigner asked.
    â€œCertainly, it is not,” Miss Owen rushed in to assure him.
    â€œMay I see the summons?” I asked.
    Sunderland cleared his throat. “I’m sure the summons is back at my office. A viewing could be arranged.”
    â€œDo any of you have the letter on your person now?” I asked. “I’m sure that producing it would go some way to substantiating your tale.”
    Miss Owen smiled kindly and nodded encouragingly. I could not fail to notice that they looked at her for cues more than they did at myself.
    Interesting. Perhaps she might have a place in my dealings after all.
    If she had the stomach for it.
    Not one of them had the invitation with them. Before I could ask another question, Rutledge’s stool shattered and he fell, shouting and smacking at the wall beside him as he attempted not to go down with it. The stool must have been nursing a wounded leg.
    A shriek and a scrambling sound from the other side of that wall caught my attention. It was followed by a mad scratching, like a sharp instrument striking and dragging along