The House Of Smoke by Sam Christer Read Free Book Online

‘education’; I simply wished to rob him blind and be on my way.
    ‘Simeon!’ he snapped.
    I had never met a lady before. She had offered her hand and I had not responded. Once Moriarty shouted, I gripped it firmly and shook so vigorously that she was caused to yelp like a kicked puppy.
    ‘Not so hard, sir, I pray.’ She pulled away from me and nursed her fingers.
    My face reddened.
    ‘He has much to learn,’ said Moriarty in mitigation for my behaviour. His hand grabbed my shoulder again and turned me to face the inappropriately dressed man at his side. ‘This, Simeon, is your
physical
tutor, Mr Michael Brannigan. You may do to
his
hand as you wish, for Michael was once a champion wrestler and remains stronger than all of us put together.’
    The bald man stepped forward and challengingly presented his palm.
    Everyone smiled.
    I took it, knowing he would endeavour to balance my indiscretion by deliberately crushing my bones until I begged for respite.
    I was not disappointed. Brannigan closed his fingers like the jaws of a metal vice tightening on soft wood.
    Only, I was not soft.
    Our eyes locked. My hand returned his pressure in more than equal force. Veins on his arms bloated with blood. His face flushed red as he squeezed to his maximum.
    Brannigan turned his head to the watching crowd. ‘The youth has the strength of a man,’ he grinned at them. ‘Wonder whether he has the courage as well.’ With his free hand, he feigned a punch to my chin.
    To my shame, I did not see it for the playful ruse he intended. Instead, I smashed his hand away with my forearm and endeavoured to headbutt him in the face.
    The old fighter stepped swiftly aside and expertly avoided the blow. His eyes widened. ‘My, he is indeed a wild one, Professor.’
    ‘Take care when handling him’ answered Moriarty, coolly. ‘He has killed already, Michael, and I believe is quite able to do so again.’
    My eyes caught Lady Elizabeth’s. To my surprise, I saw no shock there. No judgement or repulsion. And in that second, I knew that her opinion of me was the only one that mattered.
    Brannigan pushed a finger into my chest. ‘Tomorrow morning, nice and early, we’ll do some
training
and discover how tough you really are.’
    I looked the old wrestler over again. Despite his age and weight, there was something disturbing about him. A quality not discernible in his shape or voice. It was a secret. One very dark and dangerous.
    The professor broke my gaze. ‘There is a
final
person I wish to introduce you to.’ He stepped to one side and revealed a man in a chair. Crutches flanked both his arms and I could see he had only one leg. He was every bit as young and handsome as Sirius but the loss of his left limb, just below the knee, masked his face in what I imagined was permanent misery.
    ‘This is my very good friend Alex,’ said Moriarty warmly. ‘Mr Alexander Rathbone, from Boston in Massachusetts.’
    Lady Elizabeth gently nudged me.
    I remembered my manners, stepped forward and offered my hand. ‘Simeon Lynch, mister.’
    Alexander shook it. His hazel eyes held mine only as long as necessary, then returned to introspective examination of the floor.
    Moriarty led me back to the table groaning with food. ‘I know you have questions, and I promise in time they’ll be answered. But eat now. Get your strength back.’
    I snatched a small loaf of bread and ripped off a chunk. The freshly-baked smell set my stomach grumbling. I was about to bite off a mouthful when he grabbed my wrist. ‘Do you not see either the servants or the plates?’
    I glanced to the end of the table, where two young, black-suited men stood with napkins over forearms. One stepped forward, lifted a large white plate and asked, ‘What might I get for you, sir?’
    I put my bread down on the plate. ‘That, and more of it. And some meat. As much as you can fit on there.’
    He nodded and set about the task.
    ‘Let us sit.’ Moriarty motioned to a table laid with