Page 54 of Garden of Lies

“She had a list of the dates on which Miss Clifton had come by the shop to deliver the dried plant material,” Rosemont said.

“I see. That is, indeed, rather disturbing. Miss Clifton must have kept a record of her appointments.”

Rosemont widened his hands. “She was a trained secretary, after all. I’m sure she kept very accurate records of a great many things.”

“An even more unsettling thought.” Cobb pondered for a moment and then fixed Rosemont with another piercing look. “I assume you did not divulge any information regarding our business arrangements to Mrs. Kern?”

“Of course not.” Rosemont paused. “Not that it matters. I had made preparations just in case I was overtaken with such a disaster. I locked her in the laboratory and set off an explosion which caused a great fire. She died in the blaze.”

“You are quite certain of that?”

“Positive.” Rosemont longed to raise the curtains to see if they were in the vicinity of the railway station. He glanced at Hubbard’s gracefully folded hands and resisted the impulse to open the shades.

The driver rapped twice on the roof of the cab. The vehicle drew to a halt.

“I believe we have arrived,” Cobb said.

“Thank goodness.” Rosemont gathered his nerve. “As I told you, the final shipment is in the warehouse. I would like my payment now, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m afraid I do mind.” Cobb reached inside his coat.

Rosemont froze. Sweat broke out on his brow. He started to shiver.

Cobb smiled a faint, derisive smile. Very deliberately he removed a gold cigarette holder from an inside pocket. “Really, Mr. Rosemont. You British have such a low opinion of your former colonials. We are not all western outlaws who go about armed to the teeth. Hubbard, please see our guest to his destination.”

Hubbard unfolded his hands and opened the door. Dank fog carrying the odor of the river swirled through the opening. Rosemont had just taken a relieved breath. Now another wave of panic hit him.

“This isn’t the railway station,” he said.

“Isn’t it?” Cobb shrugged. “You must forgive me. I’m new in town. I find that the streets of London are a maze. Get out, Rosemont. As we are no longer business partners I do not owe you any favors. I’m sure you will eventually find a cab.”

Hubbard kicked down the steps and descended to the ground. He held the door open.

Rosemont scooted across the seat, edging toward the door. He was terrified now, but not of the neighborhood.

“What of my fee?” he managed.

Cobb seemed bored. “Hubbard will see to it that you receive payment in full. Be so good as to get out of my carriage. I have other business to attend to this evening.”

Rosemont scrambled through the doorway and reached back inside to collect his suitcases. He took one last look at the big man in the cab and knew for certain that he was very fortunate to be escaping with his life tonight.

He turned and started walking very quickly. The fog glowed with just enough moonlight to show him that he was in the middle of an unlit street lined with darkened warehouses.

After a moment it dawned on him that Cobb’s carriage had not moved off. A dark, primal terror rose within him. The sense that some terrible beast was closing in on him struck with such force that he stopped and whirled around.

The interior lights of the cab were turned down low but Cobb was visible inside. He was smoking a cigarette, as though he had no urgent appointments. There was no sign of the little spider of a valet.

Rosemont hurried toward the corner. He heard faint footsteps behind him and started to swing around again but by then it was too late. Pain exploded for only an instant when the stiletto sank deep into the back of his neck.

And then there was nothing.

TWENTY-FOUR

Slater sprawled in the wingback chair, contemplating the pleasant torpor and the deep sense of satisfaction that warmed him. He had been cold for a long time, he realized. But he had grown so accustomed to the sensation that he had come to think of it as a normal condition. He had been wrong. Ursula had brought him enlightenment on that particular matter and she had done so in a spectacular fashion.

He watched her do up the front of the dressing gown. He would be content to watch her dress anytime, he concluded. It would be even more gratifying to watch her take off her clothes.

“There is no question in my mind but that Anne was involved in some dangerous affair linked to Rosemont and his laboratory,” Ursula said. She started to pace the room. “But I cannot imagine how that could have come about.”

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