Where Serpents Sleep by C. S. Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

she had their attention, Hero said, “Last Wednesday, two women fled a residential brothel near Portman Square. One called herself Rose. The other was named Hannah. Rose was one of the women killed at the Magdalene House last night. But Hannah left the refuge several days before the attack. She may be in danger, or she may know something about why the attack took place. I would like to speak to her.”
     
     
    A murmur of whispers and desultory comments swelled around the room. Hero raised her voice and continued speaking. “If you or one of your acquaintances provides me with information that enables me to find Hannah, that person will receive a reward of twenty pounds.”
     
     
    “Why, you must be lookin’ fer me,” said a tall, skeletally thin woman with long brown hair. “I’m Hannah. How’d you know I was here?”
     
     
    The other women around the table laughed, while Molly growled and said, “Like hell. That’s Jenna Kincaid.”
     
     
    “Please do not think,” said Hero, letting her gaze travel around the assembled women, “that I will be so foolish as to pay for false information. I will know the woman I seek when I find her. Anyone stepping forward will receive a reward only if the information she provides proves accurate.”
     
     
    “How do we know you don’t mean this Hannah no harm?” shouted one of the women at the far end of the table.
     
     
    “I am not here as an instrument of the law,” said Hero, again having to raise her voice above an undercurrent of murmurs. “The women at the Magdalene House were murdered. The authorities have shown no interest in discovering who was responsible. No one knows why these women were killed, which means that Hannah may not be the only one who is in danger. Whoever killed those women could do it again. You are all potentially in danger.”
     
     
    This statement provoked a predictable uproar. Hero waited a few moments, then said, “Anyone with the information I seek may meet me tomorrow morning at Bullock’s Museum. I will be in the exhibition halls from ten to eleven a.m. I’ll be wearing a navy blue walking dress and a hat with two ostrich plumes. But be warned: Anyone wasting my time with false information will have reason to regret their perfidy.”
     
     
    The women fell suddenly silent. Hero had a knack for sounding very much like her father when she wanted to.
     
     
    Molly’s face was unusually grim as she walked with Hero to the lodging house’s front entrance. “I’ve heard talk them women at the Magdalene House was murdered, but didn’t credit it.”
     
     
    “I’m afraid it’s true,” said Hero. She turned on the house’s narrow stoop to take Molly’s hand. “Thank you for your assistance.”
     
     
    Molly’s sagging cheeks took on a reddish hue. She jerked her head toward the kitchen. “You think them strumpets really is in danger?”
     
     
    “They could be. I honestly don’t know.”
     
     
    Molly studied her with narrowed, unblinking eyes. “Most of the fine gentlemen and -women we see around here want to punish the whores—put them through a living hell so’s they’ll come out all pious and submissive. But you’re not like that.”
     
     
    Hero gave a soft laugh. “Perhaps because I don’t like pious, submissive women.”
     
     
    Molly didn’t smile. She said, “This Hannah you’re tryin’ so hard to find . . . did it ever occur to you that if she’s in danger, then you’re putting yourself in danger, too, by lookin’ for her?”
     
     
    “I am far better protected than she.”
     
     
    “Maybe.” Molly nodded toward the waiting coach with its two liveried and powdered footmen. “But if’n you’re smart, the next time you come down here, you’ll make certain that coachman of yours is carrying a blunderbuss. Nobody’s completely safe.”
     

 
    Chapter 10
     
     
    Treading cautiously over charred fallen timbers, blackened furniture, and shattered bricks, Sebastian worked his way