An Improper Death (Dr. Alexandra Gladstone Mysteries Book 2) by Paula Paul Read Free Book Online Page B

Compared to the gaols in the London area with which Nicholas was familiar, this one was small, less than half a dozen occupied the room. Two of the men stood at the windows, and one of them whooped when he saw Nicholas.
    “We got us a dandy comin’ this way, boys,” he said. That brought all of the prisoners crowding around the opening.
    “You come to play, pretty boy?” the one who had called out said. “Or does we have to satisfy ourselves while we just looks at ye?” The lewd comment brought a chorus of laughter and more raucous shouting. Nicholas had expected no more than a few drunks to be incarcerated in a town as small as Newton-Upon-Sea. Perhaps it was the busy piers that brought a more hardened element here. Nevertheless, he felt the cold grasp of fear at his throat, but he didn’t slow his pace, and when Snow unlocked the door, he was the first to enter.
    “Quiet!” Snow’s snarling command was only half heeded. There was still laughter and lewd gesturing. When Snow stepped in front of him, Nicholas saw that his usually pallid face was flushed with anger. “John Killborn!” he shouted. “Do any of you know John Killborn? If you do, step to the front!” The room grew unnaturally and unnervingly quiet. Snow shouted the name again, and once again there was no response.
    He took a step toward the prisoners, and then another step, and another, until he was in their midst. He studied the face of each and occasionally even reached a hand to tilt a man’s head back so he could have a better look at his face. Finally he walked away from the group and turned back toward them with his arms akimbo, his face hardened with what seemed to Nicholas, dangerous anger.
    “Who knows John Killborn?”
    There was still the long, highly charged silence.
    Snow waited, then suddenly struck the wall with the metal rod to which the keys were attached. “Who knows John Killborn?” he shouted.
    Some of the men were startled by the noise made by the rod, and there was some uneasy movement and muttering for a few seconds, but there was no answer. Snow waited another long moment before he turned and walked toward the door, his demeanor unnaturally calm. He turned to face the prisoners before he unlocked the door.
    “Rations will be restricted to water and a piece of bread for each prisoner per day. Perhaps next time you’ll show more respect to a visitor.” With that, he opened the door, gestured for Nicholas to leave first, then closed and locked the door behind him. He didn’t speak until they had reached his office. “As you can see, I’m afraid you cannot expect any cooperation,” he said as he replaced the keys and rod on the hook. He went to his desk and resumed reading the papers that lay there.
    Nicholas could only stare at him, astonished for a few seconds before he turned away and left the building. He made his way across the street to the Blue Ram and found an empty slot at the bar where he ordered a glass of lager, wondering what to make of his conversation with Snow. He remembered him as a cold bastard from his last meeting several months ago. He seemed even more so now, along with being odd and uncooperative.
    “Ye looks a bit grim and out of sorts, ye does. I hopes this’ll help.” The barmaid, a woman in her forties, set the glass in front of him and grinned at him, revealing several missing teeth.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    She squinted, scrutinizing him. “I seen ye before, ain’t I?”
    “Not likely. I reside in London.”
    “’Course ye does. A gentleman like you? Ye wouldn’t be comin’ from…” She stopped speaking and her eyes widened. “I seen ye before, I has. Ye was the barrister what helped that poor child accused o’ murdin’ Lord Dunsford. Right here in this tavern where the Queen’s court was held for the assizes!”
    The woman was right. Although he had not been allowed to defend the accused girl when she was tried, he used as much of his legal skills as possible to help her.