The Left Hand of Justice by Jess Faraday Read Free Book Online

manners?” He handed her his umbrella. When she hesitated, he said, “Use it in good health, Inspector. Return it to me at our next meeting. And don’t forget this.” He handed her the purse of coins she had earlier ignored. “I won’t lose my only qualified agent over a matter of two weeks’ pay.”
    Reluctantly, Corbeau tucked the purse into her coat pocket. As the carriage rolled off, she wrestled the baleen frame of the umbrella into position, taking comfort in the silk shelter, though by that time, her hems were soaked through. Dodging puddles and the occasional pedestrian, she swallowed her pride and made her way to the front door.

Chapter Four
     
    Though Corbeau would have allowed at least a week to pass before turning up at Oubliette again—she would have needed at least that much time to scrounge the money she owed for the chair and the bottle of Bordeaux—Javert was right. It was better to sort these things out before they got out of control. The owner, Marie, would forgive her once she had cash in hand. And from the weight of the coins in her pocket, she likely had enough to settle up with Ugly Jacques as well. After she cleared her accounts, she’d go home and sleep all day. Perhaps all night, too. Her employment was no longer at the whim of Chief Inspector Vautrin. No matter that he probably wished her dead now—Javert wouldn’t let him touch her.
    The café’s dark-blue awning whipped back and forth in the wind. Cold drops dripped from the sodden canvas, falling hard on the oiled silk of Javert’s umbrella as she passed beneath it. The café had closed for the night around two. Corbeau reckoned it was a little after seven. The important thing was that Marie would be happy to take her money any time of day. Despite the sign, the front door was unlocked. Corbeau walked past the stacked chairs and tables that would fill the narrow stretch of sidewalk out front should it ever stop raining. As she shut the door behind her, the sounds of food preparation stopped, the kitchen door burst open, and a stout, formidable-looking woman charged out.
    “Well, don’t you have a nerve?” Marie looked as if she’d slept as little as Corbeau had, but it showed more clearly on her rough-featured face and in the sag of her age-rounded shoulders. “I thought I told you—”
    “Peace, Madame. I came to pay you, and to apologize.”
    The juggernaut of a woman stopped short, sharp eyes lighting on the pouch Corbeau held up. A smile spread across her face at the jingle of the coins inside. The smile grew wider with every coin Corbeau pressed into her fleshy palm.
    “And one more for your trouble,” Corbeau said. “I am truly sorry, Madame. It won’t happen again.”
    Marie held her gaze for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. “Thank you, dear, I knew you’d come through.”
    “I’m sure that’s what you told everyone last night after you threw me out.”
    “Well…now…” She self-consciously tucked a strand of steel-colored hair back beneath her frayed scarf. “What’s a woman to do? You were much better at paying your bills when you were a bum, you know.”
    “Of course back then you always complained about the ‘element’ my business attracted.”
    “Would have broken your mother’s heart. All that knowledge twisted and turned to immoral purpose.” She cocked her head, thoughtful. “Though I can’t say she’d have liked your current activities any better. Police work, indeed.”
    “You have to admit it does keep people on their best behavior knowing the Sûreté is about.”
    “Except when it’s the Sûreté turning the place on its ear.”
    Corbeau closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I’ve just paid for that and more.”
    “Well…now…” Marie smiled and patted her arm. “I suppose you have made up for it. And you’ve done so much for that poor woman in the Montagne Ste. Geneviève. How is her little boy?”
    Corbeau exhaled a breath of relief. Marie was one of the few people