A Thief in the Night by Stephen Wade Read Free Book Online Page B

to the corresponding, often corrupt, milieu of the wealthy. Many men in the new, brash city, a metropolis which was the hub of a massive world empire, were so hungry for money and power that they threw all morality out of the window. Lacey, a specialist in Elizabethan poetry, had developed a passion for the grisly tales in the annals of crime after meeting Lord George Lenham-Cawde at a bachelor party given to celebrate his lordship’s return from India, where he had been involved in espionage against the Russians. The two men discovered a mutual penchant for hanging narratives and detective tales.
    ‘Now then …’ he mumbled to himself as he flicked through the files on forgers and frauds relating to the last five years in London. He found ‘Canter: James and Jack.’ There was his meticulous summary, drawn from newspaper reports, personal enquiries and from the best source of all, the street-corner men who saw everything and heard everything, then wanted money for the information.
    He was reading the notes when there was a shout from downstairs.
    ‘Hello? Mr Lacey Sir, are you wantin’ any choclit?’ It was Mrs Sledge, the housemaid. He knew she would come to the door, as she always did, unable to resist being nosey if he had been out anywhere, and indeed there was a knock at the door and Mrs Sledge walked in, tutting about the bad light. ‘You’ll ruin your eyes Professor. Now I s’pose you bin out lecturin’ and that? You and your bloomin’poetry. Funny way to make a livin’ I say. Or have you bin playing the jack?’
    Lacey was trying to concentrate. ‘Mrs Sledge, I’m not in a talkative mood … and I might be playing the jack, but I haven’t time to tell you about it.’ He made a mental note of her use of slang, reminding himself to investigate the origins of the word jack later when matters were resolved.
    ‘Ooh, detective work eh? On the trail of a killer?’
    ‘Mrs Sledge, would you be a dear and make me some strong tea? I need to keep awake and I need some peace, thank you.’
    She was small, a sparrow of a woman, wearing a flowery apron, her long black hair held tight in a bun. This wobbled a little when she was in a mood, as she was now. ‘Right, well I knows where I stands then. I’ll put the kettle on … oh, and I expect you’ll not be interested in the gent as was ’ere earlier, asking for you?’
    ‘What? Who was it?’
    ‘That p’liceman, the one what is always happy. Not natural that, being always happy.’
    Lacey knew she meant Eddie Carney, and that was good news. The Detective Inspector had obviously been informed of the situation by someone. He had come around at exactly the right time.
    ‘Good, now is there any possibility that there might be some tea available before Christmas?’
    ‘Blinkin’ impertinence …’ Lacey heard her grumble as she left the room and headed downstairs. She loved their banter.

    Late that night, Lord George was back in Richmond. He was led into the drawing room and given whisky. When he drank the glass straight down and refused to sit, Perch was worried.
    ‘What on earth is it My Lord?’
    ‘Mr Perch, I need the services of your daughter, urgently!’
    Perch’s double chin quivered and he blinked in such a way that Lord George started to blink also.
    ‘Look, I said she was an actress but …’
    ‘No you damned fool … I need her to help find this impostor.’ He immediately apologised for his language, aware that he could be petulant when in a hurry.
    Alice was called in from the library, where she was trying to forget her lover by reading the most sensational periodical she could find.
    She had changed her clothes and was wearing a beautiful long black dress and some very colourful slippers. George was, for a moment, mesmerised by her angelic looks – the ice-grey eyes and the fair hair, and that flush on her cheeks. He thought again, Ah, the sweetest English rose, lovelier even than before. He could see that Jimmy Canter had chosen the