Page 28 of The Affair of the Mysterious Letter
Ms. Haas drifted idly on a passing current. “And you’re honestly telling me that even if the opportunity to revenge yourself on Miss Viola fell accidentally into your lap you wouldn’t take it?”
“One”—he counted off on his fingers—“I’m busy fighting a turf war with a bloodthirsty barbarian from another planet. Two: when things fall into my lap I work out how to sell them. Now as it happens, I did find out that dear old Eirene was settling down with a member of the Ubiquitous Company of Fishers. And should any of Miss Cora Beck’s friends or enemies come to me asking if I should happen to know of anything that might be helpful to them, then I may, indeed, divulge that her good lady wife, or wife-to-be, depending on when I get that visit, has the kind of past that doesn’t go down so well in respectable circles. But why would I give that up for free?”
My companion gave the matter some thought. “Thank you, Mr. Reef. You’ve been most helpful. Come, Wyndham.”
The abruptness of this concession rather startled me. “Are we leaving?”
“Unless you wish to sample the whelks or be violated byreticulated monstrosities from the fathomless depths, either of which, incidentally, I’d be more than happy to make time for.”
“But what of the case against Mr. Reef?”
The comment was, in retrospect, somewhat inopportune. “Hey”—Mr. Reef spread his webbed fingers—“I’m right here.”
“Forgive my companion,” said Ms. Haas, who throughout our acquaintance would prove far more willing to apologise for my behaviour than for her own. “He’s new. It helps if you try to find it endearing.”
I was not certain how to take this. “I simply fear that we have come a long way for little information.”
“A fear I will happily assuage. Would you like me to do so now, in front of the gentleman in question, or at home in private when our brains are no longer being slowly eaten by psychic invertebrates?”
Mr. Reef leaned forward with a rather hungry expression. “Don’t hold back on my account.”
Even without Mr. Reef’s comment I would have found my companion’s position compelling, and now that my attention had been drawn to it, I was concerned that the worm might be taking active steps to persuade me against its removal. “Meaning no disrespect or ingratitude,” I told Mr. Reef, “I am suddenly convinced that we should return to the surface as quickly as possible.”
“Are you sure, Mr. Wyndham?” asked my companion. “You wouldn’t rather bob about down here for a few more hours asking silly questions?”
I thought that was a trifle harsh. “Your point is well made, madam.”
Bidding a rather more formal farewell to Mr. Reef than was perhaps necessary I followed Ms. Haas out of the premises, paying as little attention as possible to the events occurring within them, and back to our own time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A Respite
We rendezvoused withMr. Saltpetre at the prearranged location, a stretch of open water slightly above a nearby kelp forest in our native timeline. He returned us forthwith to the shore, whereupon Ms. Haas and I swiftly partook of the exfiltration tablets. The worm’s influence on my nervous system was already such that I was conscious of a mild reluctance to ingest the poison, but I steeled myself to do so and, once the nausea, retching, and bleeding from the throat had passed, experienced no further regrets.
Our sojourn in the ocean had started sufficiently late and lasted sufficiently long that the predawn light was beginning to wash over the slums and spires of Athra. In these transitional hours, the criminal classes turn at last towards their beds, while servile and mercantile persons shift from slumber to the contemplation of their forthcoming day’s labour. All of which meant that a gentleman roaming the streets in his bathing attire ran an unacceptable risk of drawing the attention of respectable individuals. Therefore, we hailed a passing hansom and returned posthaste to 221b Martyrs Walk.
Mrs. Hive was not best pleased with us upon our arrival, for we were dripping wet, we bore with us the deep-sea scent of dead fish and mad gods, and my companion was still bleeding an oily black ichor, traces of which remain upon the hall carpet to this day. Ms. Haasdefused the situation with a variety of vague promises that Mrs. Hive received with a sceptical buzzing before shuffling the increasingly deliquescent corpse of the stevedore back upstairs to her lodgings.
“Be a good fellow and make up the fire.” Ms. Haas swept past me into the sitting room and cast herself across the chaise longue. “I find myself unaccountably fatigued.”
Given the night’s events I also found myself a little weary, but nevertheless endeavoured to see to the comfort of both of us. Having tended to the grate, I retired to my room and, realising I would soon need to leave for the hospital, changed into my normal attire. Suspecting a little light refreshment would be of benefit, I then prepared a pot of tea and a little toast, which I carried back into the sitting room.
I was greeted by the unmistakable perfume of Valentino’s Good Rough Shag. My companion was supine, steaming lightly and smoking heavily.
“I’d thought Mr. Reef such a likely prospect,” she muttered. “It was most impertinent of him to be innocent.”
I poured the tea and put a cup and saucer down within easy reach of her trailing hand. “Are you quite certain he was being truthful?”
“It is possible that everything we observed in Ven had been carefully stage-managed in an elaborate effort to fool us, but while my reputation has sometimes caused my quarries to go to quite absurd lengths to throw me off their trail, Mr. Reef did not appear to be expecting me specifically and would scarcely have orchestrated such an outlandish charade merely to provide himself with an alibi in a petty case of blackmail.” She brought her pipe to her lips and inhaled deeply. “After all, to believe that he has deceived us is to believe not only that he faked his own death at the hands of the Ossuary Bank, which he most certainly did, but that he also faked the conflict whose existence necessitated that fabrication. Frankly, if he implemented such a needlessly circuitous plan to cover such a trivial offence hedeservesto get away with it.”
“And of course,” I added, “as he himself observed, personal vengeance is not ordinarily a preoccupation of his people.”
“For someone in that line of work, revenge is a complicated value proposition. Even if Mr. Reef would not experience emotional satisfaction from seeing Eirene suffer he could still easily have concluded that a demonstration of power would have been in his professional interests. But given the circumstances in which we found him, I’m sure his priorities currently lie elsewhere. From everything I’ve heard, Ann Wilde is an adversary who demands one’s whole attention.”
Ms. Haas continued her exegesis for quite some time although I confess, having settled into the wingback chair, I allowed the night’s exertions to overcome me and drifted off to sleep. I was aroused, some indeterminate period later, by a vigorous rapping upon the front door.
My companion, who appeared to have continued her discourse quite undeterred by my incapacity, paused a moment. “Do go see to that, will you?”
