The Limehouse Text by Will Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

neck, brilliantined to a shine that rivaled his shoes. I admit I gawked and am certain my jaw was hanging open, but he did not seem to notice. By now, he must have been used to it.
    “Er…Thomas Llewelyn,” I finally got out. “Where did you find him?”
    “Gorging himself on a dead haddock on the docks. The dog and I have been taking the air of the quarter. He’s a corking little fellow.”
    He had no trace of an Oriental accent, but his manner was like a music hall version of an English lord. What series of circumstances had come together to create such a person as this? It was too much to take in.
    The Guv came forward and shook Woo’s hand, as if he were any other Englishman. “Mr. Woo, I’m Cyrus Barker. Thank you for taking care of my dog.”
    “Oh, ’twas nothing, a trifle. Couldn’t leave the poor chap to fend for himself, now could I? Frightfully dangerous down in Limehouse come nightfall.”
    “Upon my soul, Mr. Woo, your English is excellent, if I may say it,” Barker said.
    I’d have been scratching my head if my arm could have reached it. Barker seemed to like the blighter, but then, he always has a soft spot for eccentrics.
    “Read history at Cambridge. Been here for a dog’s years. I’m an interpreter. Might you be Cyrus Barker, the detective?”
    “Enquiry agent, yes.”
    “Deuced convenient. I’ve been looking all over for you, you see. I am working for a chap in the Foreign Office upon a certain private matter and he would very much like to make your acquaintance.”
    “I am rather busy at the moment,” Barker told him.
    Being refused brought the Oriental out in him. He smiled and bowed his head to my employer. “Sorry, but I am afraid a meeting is essential. You may speak with him today at his club or he shall hie it over to your chambers tomorrow and cut up ever so rough. What do you say? I did find your dog. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the F.O., eh? Say, one o’clock? I’ll arrange it.”
    Barker absently stroked Harm’s forehead, which the dog leaned into with his protruding eyes closed. “Where?”
    “That’s the spirit. The Oriental Club, near Hanover Square. The chap you want is named Trelawney Campbell-Ffinch. I won’t be there, I’m afraid. It would be simply too much for them, having an actual Oriental on the premises. Wouldn’t want the old duffers choking on their port. Must dash. I’ve always got my fire stoked with irons, don’tcha know. Nice meeting you, gents.”
    He patted the dog on the head with his lavender-gloved hand and then skipped off to his next appointment, whatever it was.
    “So, the Foreign Office wants me, does it?” Barker mused. “Why did they not send someone ’round to the office? We are but a few blocks away. Speaking of the office, let us return. Mac shall have to harness the hansom and come retrieve Harm.”
    I would have paid a week’s salary to see Mac’s face when he heard. He cannot abide the dog and especially any added bit of pampering the Guv orders. This would send him through the roof.
    “Certainly, old sport,” I said.
    “None of your cheek, now, lad.”
    We walked three or four blocks north, where we met the tram service that runs longitudinally across the East End. I was wondering if they would allow the dog aboard the old vehicle, though Harm had insinuated himself inside Baker’s cavernous coat, with only his goggly eyes peering out. Like a dolt, I reached for the bar to pull myself onto the vehicle with my injured arm and instantly regretted it.
    “Ahhh!”
    Barker stopped and surveyed me quizzically. “Is your shoulder bothering you? Perhaps you have put it out of joint. Let’s get back off the tram, lad. There is only one thing to be done.”
    “What is that, sir?” I asked, wincing through the pain.
    “I must get you to a Chinese bonesetter. It is fortunate you were injured in Limehouse.”
    Fortunate was not the word I would have used.

5
    I SAY, IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY? I’M SURE I’LL be all right