The Mystery Woman Read Online Free PDF Page B

with him it was always in a location of his choice and he was always deep in the shadows. We never saw his face in the light.” She paused. “But I’m quite certain he did not walk with a limp. What do you think, Sara?”
    “There was certainly no indication that he used a cane,” Sara said. “I remember how it always startled us when he spoke to us from the darkness of whatever place he had selected for a meeting. We never heard him arrive and we never heard him leave. It was as if he, himself, was a shadow.”
    “Hmm,” Beatrice said. She thought about Gage’s halting stride and the way he leaned on his cane. “Well, accidents do happen. And I imagine that a man in his profession would attract a large number of enemies.”
    “Very true,” Abigail said.
    “You said this Messenger person worked for Mr. Smith,” Beatrice said. “I don’t understand Smith’s role in all this. Why did he require a messenger?”
    Sara and Abby exchanged glances. Then Sara turned back to Beatrice.
    “Abby and I long ago concluded that Smith was a player in the Great Game, as the press and the novelists like to call the business of espionage.”
    “Do you mean to say that he was a spy?” Beatrice asked.
    “A
master
spy,” Abigail said. “The Messenger assured us that his employer was in the service of the Crown and we have no reason to doubt that. From what we could deduce, Smith’s reach extended throughout England, across Europe and beyond. But you know how it is with legends.”
    “One never knows the whole truth,” Sara added.
    “Hmm,” Beatrice said. “I expect that worked out very well for both Mr. Smith and his messenger. People always fear the unknown more than the known.”
    Sara made a face. “Actually, in the case of Mr. Smith, what sensible people feared was his Messenger, the man Mr. Smith dispatched to hunt down traitors and foreign spies in our midst. The Messenger foiled any number of plots and conspiracies, some quite bizarre.”
    “And we assisted him on occasion,” Sara said. There was a touch of pride in her voice.
    “I don’t understand,” Beatrice said. “What do you mean by bizarre?”
    “When Mr. Smith sent his Messenger to investigate a conspiracy or an act of espionage, one could rest assured that the threat was far from ordinary—not the sort of case one expected Scotland Yard to handle. There was invariably a paranormal twist.”
    Abigail gave a short, humorless bark of laughter. “Not that the Messenger ever allowed that there was even the possibility of a paranormal explanation in the cases he investigated, you understand. He didn’t believe in psychical energy. That always struck me as amusing because it was obvious he possessed some talent himself.”
    “A great many people dismiss the paranormal side of their natures,” Sara pointed out. “They come up with other explanations when confronted with their own abilities.”
    “What was the nature of the Messenger’s ability?” Beatrice asked.
    “He appeared to have an absolutely uncanny talent for finding people and things,” Abigail said. “If he set out to track down someone or something, he was invariably successful.”
    “You speak of both the Messenger and Mr. Smith in the past tense,” Beatrice said. “What happened to them?”
    “No one knows,” Abigail said. “About a year ago the rumors of Smith’s death began to circulate. They were mere whispers at first, but the whispers grew louder. Eventually Sara and I concluded they were likely true.”
    “The Messenger vanished at the same time,” Sara explained. “Which is why we assumed that he was dead, as well. He certainly has not contacted us in all these months. To tell you the truth, I have missed him.”
    “Rubbish,” Abigail said fiercely. “He was a very mysterious individual. He made me uneasy whenever he came around.” She paused. “I will admit that he paid quite well for information, though.”
    “The thing is,” Sara said wistfully, “in