Deadly Betrayal (ANGUS BRODIE AND MIKAELA FORSYTHE MURDER MYSTERY #8) by Carla Simpson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Carla Simpson
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Fiction
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“MORNIN’, Miss Mikaela,” Mr. Cavendish greeted me as I arrived at
the office on the Strand.
I smiled. It had been ‘Miss Mikaela’ since our first meeting and still
was, in spite of the change in my relationship with Brodie. And I was quite
all right with it.
Before stepping down from the cab, I handed him the wrapped package
that contained cakes as well as biscuits with sausage from breakfast that
Mrs. Ryan, my housekeeper, had sent.
Food was always a good strategy to prevent my clothes from being
muddied when Rupert the hound grinned a greeting at me from the
sidewalk.
Others, Brodie in particular, would of course have argued that what I
considered a grin was in fact a snarl. Nevertheless, Mr. Cavendish, keeper
of the alcove and the latest word on the street, knew better, and so did I.
The hound and I had a special bond, although those same ‘others’ who
claimed to be such experts would have called it my imagination.
We had our own language which he usually obeyed. Usually, because
there had been times when he was not of a mind to obey, most particularly
in taking down an attacker on the street, for which I was most grateful.
There had been an extra basket of cakes for him after that episode, most
particularly my housekeeper’s sponge cakes which he was particularly fond
of.
And, despite Brodie’s argument against it, he had proven himself to be
most capable in tracking down people—namely those of a criminal sort—in
our inquiry cases.
He had also warded off other potentially dangerous situations when I
was out and about London on my own—Rupert’s presence a precaution
Brodie insisted upon, despite his criticism of the hound’s investigative
talents.
“He’s a bloody animal with a brain no larger than a walnut,” Brodie had
argued in one of our conversations.
“He has excellent instincts,” I had replied in the hound’s defense.
I had then pointed out that according to Mr. Brimley, who had studied
medicine before opening his pharmaceutical shop, some of the human
species—notably men—seemed to possess a brain no larger than a walnut.
To say that had not gone over well is an understatement. In his usual
way after one of our conversations with differing opinions, Brodie had
thrown up his hands, declared that there was no arguing with me, and had
immediately changed the subject. I did so enjoy our conversations.
As for the previous day and several more before, Brodie had been
deeply involved in our most recent inquiry case, regarding counterfeit
currency that had been found circulating at several business establishments
in London.
I had left him with his report to Sir Avery the previous afternoon, while
I had followed up on an appointment with my great-aunt’s personal banker,
Aldous Trumble, at the Bank of England.
My great-aunt was also a stockholder of the bank, so our inquiries had a
dual purpose, and I attended on her behalf.
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