Death by Silver by Melissa Scott Read Free Book Online

them away in irritation, turning his attention to the newspaper. There wasn’t much of great interest, and he was about to fold it up again to tuck it in his pocket for his walk to the Commons when a small headline caught his eye: A Burglar’s Hand, or Silver’s Curse? Yard Baffled by Nevett Murder .
    He skimmed the story as quickly as he could. It was written with the paper’s usual mix of speculation and exaggeration where crime was concerned, but the facts seemed plain enough: two days after consulting a metaphysician with fears that the family silver carried a curse, Edgar Nevett was found dead in his study, felled by the heavy silver candlestick that lay bloody at his side.

    Miss Frost was already at her desk when Ned arrived at his chambers, her own newspaper folded neatly on one corner of her desk. “It was dreadful what happened to poor Mr Nevett,” she said as he took off his hat.
    “Terribly.” Ned folded himself into his chair behind his desk, angled at the moment to catch the breeze through the single window. He aspired one day to acquire chambers that boasted more than one window, and ideally room for their two desks to be more than eight feet apart.
    “And a new client, too.”
    “Yes, that’s also a bit unfortunate.” Ned wrestled with his sense of propriety. “I suppose under the circumstances it would be best to wait a decent interval before presenting any reminder of the tragic events…”
    “I’ve already sent the bill,” Miss Frost said.
    “Well, then.” He shook his head. “At least I’m not mentioned by name.”
    “Maybe not in the Chronicle ,” she said. “The Times mentions you as ‘noted metaphysician Mr Mathey.’ ”
    The one disadvantage of having a female clerk was that he couldn’t give vent to his feelings in the first terms that came to mind. “This isn’t what I’d prefer to be noted for.”
    “It’s not your fault the poor man was murdered.”
    “No, I expect it was a burglary gone wrong, but you know how people are about curses. They’ll say it was a sign he was under some malevolent influence that attracted burglars.” Ned suspected Nevett had unwisely boasted about the quality of his “cursed” silver somewhere he could be overheard, but he didn’t think that was likely to satisfy the press. They already seemed determined to turn this into the sort of story that could be gruesomely illustrated in the picture papers.
    He tried to put the whole thing out of his mind, and not to take the lack of visitors that morning as a sign that scandal clung to him. His morning office hours were more optimistic than anything else, held in hopes that someone with a urgent problem would come in to hire him to deal with it, but most days were quiet until he began doing the rounds of his scheduled appointments after noon.
    He had nearly decided that he might as well knock off for lunch when there was a knock at the door. One of the Commons page-boys was waiting when he opened it, escorting a familiar but not – at least at the moment – entirely welcome visitor.
    “Inspector Hatton from the Yard,” the boy said, sounding sufficiently awed.
    “Thank you, Bob,” Ned said, and Hatton pressed a coin into the boy’s hand before he scrambled off. “Do come in,” Ned added to Hatton. “I suppose it’s about poor Nevett?”
    “I’m afraid so,” Hatton said, stepping in, hat in hand. Miss Frost relieved him of it and hung it up for him, looking to Ned for some hint as to whether he preferred that she stay or leave.
    “Miss Frost, why don’t you go ahead and have some lunch?”
    “Thank you, Mr Mathey,” she said, and gave him an encouraging little smile over her shoulder as she went out. He appreciated it, although he hoped he wasn’t about to need it.
    “Mr Mathey,” Hatton said cheerfully, prowling around the room as usual rather than sitting down at once. “Did I ever tell you we all appreciated your help with the Barton business? Well, except for old