The Apothecary by Maile Meloy Read Free Book Online

said.
    Then I realised. I hadn’t recognised him, out of context. “It’s the apothecary!” I said. “It’s your father!”
    Benjamin pretended to study the chessboard. “He’s going to muck it up,” he moaned. “Why’d he have to choose that bench? If he’s there, Shiskin can’t make his drop.”
    “Maybe he is the drop.”
    “He’s not the drop.”
    But as I watched, Benjamin’s father took a section of the newspaper from the bench, without looking at Shiskin. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms. “Your father just picked up the newspaper,” I said.
    Benjamin stared at me. “No he didn’t.”
    “He did! He’s walking away now. You can look.”
    Benjamin turned, and we watched his father pause to unfold the newspaper and read whatever was there. Then the apothecary’s whole manner changed. He tore up a small piece of paper, threw it with the newspaper into a rubbish bin, and hurried off down the street. Shiskin had already disappeared in the other direction, walking unevenly on his wooden leg.
    “Come on,” Benjamin said. “We need that message.”
    We ran to the rubbish bin his father had used.
    “Watch where he goes,” Benjamin said, and he reached into the rubbish and came up with the folded newspaper and some shreds of paper. He pieced the scraps together on the ground as I looked over his shoulder. The note was in scrawled capitals:

    I felt dizzy and wondered if someone was playing a game with us—or if Benjamin and his father were playing a game with me. “Is this real?” I demanded. “Are you making this up?”
    The desperate look on Benjamin’s face told me he wasn’t. “Which way did he go?” he asked.
    “Across that street. Who’s Jin Lo?”
    “I don’t know.”
    As we followed his father, I looked to my left, instead of to my right where the cars were coming, and heard the blare of a horn. Benjamin pulled me back and kept me from being run over by a taxi. The driver leaned out the window and swore at me. Benjamin’s father ducked into a red phone booth on the other side of the street.
    “Did you know your father knew Shiskin?” I asked.
    “How would I know that?”
    We crossed the intersection at an angle and stood in line with people waiting for a bus, trying to blend in. I had never felt so conspicuous. The apothecary came out of the phone booth without seeing us.
    “Give him fifty paces,” Benjamin said.
    “Is he working for the Russians?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Do you think he knows that viscount? Or earl?”
    “Stop asking me questions!”
    We trailed his father through the streets. The apothecary moved surprisingly quickly, and seemed to be headed for his shop. By the time we’d reached Regent’s Park Road, we’d lost sight of him. We stood in a recessed doorway, watching, but no one went in or out of the shop.
    “Let’s go in,” I said. “Just ask him what’s going on.”
    “I can’t,” Benjamin said. He was pale and had lost all his courage.
    “You have to.”
    “What if he’s a spy for the Soviets?”
    “Then at least you’ll know.” I stepped out into the street, looking to my right this time.
    Benjamin gave in and we moved uncertainly towards the shop. He looked over his shoulder to see if we’d been followed. The door was locked, and he opened it with his key.
    The shop was silent, but smelled oddly of smoke. Benjamin locked the door behind us, and we moved through the silent aisles towards a light in a back room. I tried walking on tiptoe, but that made my legs shake. I had to put my heels down to stop the trembling.
    In the back office, the apothecary was burning papers in a small metal wastepaper basket, feeding them into the fire.
    “Benjamin!” he said. “You can’t be here! They’re coming!”
    “Who’s coming?”
    “I’m not certain. But you mustn’t be here!”
    “Are you a spy for the Russians?”
    His father peered at him through his spectacles. “Of course not!”
    “But I saw you in the park! Shiskin passed