And Justice There Is None by Deborah Crombie Read Free Book Online Page B

results.”
    “Thanks.” Gemma gave the other woman a grateful smile, sensing that they had connected for the first time on a personal level. But as she left the hospital, she also wondered just how much Kate Ling had guessed about her condition. Glancing down at her rapidly thickening waist, she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her secret much longer.
    “I’ M GOING AFTER HIM . F ERN PUSHED HER COFFEE AWAY AND STOOD UP .
    “It might not be a good idea to try to talk to him now,” Marc advised her gently. “Especially not in front of the Arrowoods’ house—”
    “I’m not going there. He’ll go back to his stall, when he’s sure it’s true. I know him.” She turned away from the pity in their faces, and for a moment she hated them for it. She did know him, betterthan anyone, and she
could
comfort him, no matter what they thought.
    Rounding the corner into Portobello Road, she ducked her head against the rain and battled the flood of shoppers coming down the hill as if she were a salmon swimming upstream, turning into the arcade where she and Alex had their stalls.
    The narrow aisles offered some relief from the crowd, but she knew it wouldn’t be long before the shoppers were packed shoulder to shoulder there as well. Already the air was redolent with cigarette smoke, and the familiar odors of grease and coffee drifted up from the basement café.
    She unlocked the stall’s protective screen and raised it up, slipped inside, and settled herself behind the glass case that held the silver spoons, magnifying glasses, and trinkets that were her bread and butter.
    Making a pretense of business, she took out her cloth and began to polish the fingerprints from a Georgian teapot she’d got for a good price from a dealer at Bermondsey yesterday. It could mean a nice profit, if the right buyer came along, but Fern found she’d lost her enthusiasm for the sale.
    The stall beside hers seemed ominously empty without Alex. She knew his stock almost as well as she knew her own, and it came as a relief when a woman stopped and admired a delicate Coalport cup and saucer on display. Fern unlocked Alex’s stall—they each had the other’s spare key—and took the cup and saucer down for the woman, holding it up to the lamp Alex kept for demonstrating the translucence of bone china.
    Enchanted, the woman paid the sticker price without haggling, a definite sign of a novice. Fern tucked the money into the cash apron Alex had left behind the front display case, then stood looking round the stall, remembering the first time Dawn Arrowood had come into the arcade.
    There had been something about her that had immediately drawn Fern’s attention. Everything from the designer jeans to the perfect blond hair spoke of money, but Dawn’s was an elegantly understated look that Fern knew she could never achieve. And yet, in spite of thewoman’s sleek veneer, there had been an appealing freshness about her, and Fern had flashed her a friendly smile.
    But the woman had looked past her. Curious, Fern had turned, following her gaze, to see the woman meet Alex’s eyes. He had stared back, transfixed, and Fern’s heart had been pierced with a sudden and sure knowledge.
    Oh, she had fought it! First his embarrassed excuses, then his irritated rejections, until at last Fern had given him no choice but to tell her outright that it was over between them. Even then she’d never quite given up hope that she might somehow win him back … and more than once she had wished Dawn Arrowood dead.
    But not like this—not murdered! And Otto had hinted this morning that her husband might have killed her because of Alex.
    Fern looked up, realizing the arcade had gone abruptly quiet. Alex stood in the street door. Water dripped from his sopping hair onto his collar; his face was blank with shock, his eyes expressionless. One of the other vendors spoke to him softly and he shook his head, then stumbled forward. Fern slipped out of the stall and went