The Death Collector by Justin Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

wallet. My money.’
    â€˜Confound your money,’ Lorimore’s face was close to George’s and the transformation was terrifying. His lips had curled away from his teeth and his eyes were red with anger. ‘Describe the boy,’ he snarled,grabbing George suddenly by the lapels of his jacket. ‘If there was one.’
    â€˜Of course there was.’ Lorimore let go of George and turned away. He was breathing less heavily now, more in control. George was relieved that the man seemed to have recovered his composure. He did his best to describe the boy, in faltering nervous tones. He recalled the grubby clothes, the cheeky expression, the comma of dark hair emerging from under the cap …
    Lorimore nodded as if George’s description was quite in order, and encouraged by this George asked cautiously: ‘So, can you help me, sir?’
    Lorimore frowned. ‘What?’ he seemed puzzled by the question.
    â€˜Can you help me find out who was responsible for my friend’s death?’
    A nerve ticked under Lorimore’s left eye as he regarded George across the room. Then he walked quickly over to the fireplace and touched a button – a bell. ‘I am afraid not,’ he admitted as he turned back towards George. ‘I really have no idea how – or why – your poor friend believed I could help you. I am sorry if I appear brusque, but you will understand that the possibility of seeing a page of Glick’s diary was …’ The nerve ticked again as he sought for the right word. ‘Intriguing,’ he decided. ‘Please do not let my disappointment unsettle you.’ He forced a thin smile.
    The manservant was already standing in the doorway. Clearly, George was being invited to leave.
    â€˜Not at all. Thank you for your time,’ he muttered, feeling his own disappointment keenly.
    Lorimore waved a hand dismissively, not even bothering to look at George. He paced up and down, his head lowered, deep in thought.

    The butler led George back past the automata and the display cases to the front door. He said not a word as he opened the door and let George step out into the cold of the day. All the while he kept his face turned away, his features obscured, as if trying to avoid letting George see his face.
    George was annoyed – angry at his wasted journey and Lorimore’s dismissal of him. Angry at himself for losing his wallet and not even noticing. Before he knew it, George had walked the length of the drive. He passed the man at the iron gates and turned out on to the main road, only distantly aware of the carved lizards on the gate posts watching him through sightless stone eyes.

Chapter 4
    Gloucester Road was busy and noisy. Horse-drawn carriages clattered across the junction with Cromwell Road. Pedestrians struggled through the crowds. Shopkeepers watched from under their awnings and called out to any passer-by who looked like a potential customer.
    The secret was to keep moving. Eddie knew the area better than the cabbies – all the side streets, all the possible escapes. He walked slowly, pausing only briefly before running across the road. A cart driver shouted at him to mind out of the way. Eddie didn’t care about that, but he did mind that the man he had been following heard the warning, and stepped briskly aside. It meant that Eddie missed him, missed the opportunity to brush past and slip his hand into the man’s jacket.
    The man had seen him now. Just a glance, no notion that Eddie had been about to relieve him of his money or watch. But there was a chance he might rememberif he saw Eddie again – might remember and realise the boy was following him. Time to move on.
    Looking round as he kept walking, Eddie’s practised eye lighted upon someone else who might be worthy of his attentions. The man had probably been tall and imposing, but was now bent with age and obviously frail. He wore a heavy coat, fastened tightly