Free Kronberg Crimes 01 - The Devils Grin by Annelie Wendeberg Page A

very sorry.’
    It took him a moment to answer, but it was something that seemed to upset him.
    ‘He has taken an interest in you!’ He choked the words out, as if the unspeakable had taken hostage of his mouth, forced his teeth apart to slip through his lips and escape his control. He regretted it instantly.
    ‘Please do not worry yourself, Dr Watson. Mr Holmes’s interest is that of a scientist in his study subject,’ I said as calmly as I could.

Chapter Seven

    The hansom dropped me off half a mile from home and I walked the rest of the way. Given my expensive clothing this was a bit reckless, despite the fact that most people here knew me.
    The evening sun threw its last rays over the rooftops, painting the slums in a softer light, making the people within look less dirty, sick, and poor. Amongst the red glow stood a tall and broad shouldered man with hair like fire, bright red and sticking out every which way. The hint of orange on his cheeks and chin was a constant phenomenon, no matter how often he shaved. He smiled at me over everyone’s head and I smiled back. Garret O’Hare was a handsome Irishman, warm-hearted and naive in a charming way, with no clue that half the female population of St Giles dreamed of him.
    Like many of my neighbours, he earned his living by stealing whatever he got his hands on and selling it at the pawn broker’s. But, in contrast to most of his colleagues, he was exceptionally good at it. A fact that made me equally proud and anxious.
    As everyone else here, Garret believed I was a young widow who worked as a medical nurse at Guy’s — lies I had planted to explain my lack of a husband and my skills in dealing with infections, stab wounds, fractures and the like. In return for medical care, my neighbours offered me protection and friendship.
    Still smiling, he walked up to me.
    ‘Anna! Ain’t ya pretty!’ said he, then came to an abrupt halt and contemplated, his brain visibly rattling.
    ‘You’ve not been seein’ another…bloke?’ he enquired, scratching his chin and measuring me from soles to hat-band.
    I smiled and pointed at his shoes. ‘You have new boots.’
    ‘Er…yeah. Where’ve ya been?’
    ‘None of your business, Garret. I don’t ask you where you find all these things, do I?’
    ‘True,’ he coughed, contemplated a little longer, took a step closer and smiled a warm feeling into my chest.
    The moment I wasn’t paying attention to anything but his face, he snatched my hand — like a thief — and gazed at the smallness of it in his large and square paw.
    ‘Ya can’t walk ’round ‘ere lookin’ like that,’ he grumbled.
    ‘I surely can,’ I said, taking a step away from him. He kept holding on to my hand and followed.
    ‘I’ll bring ya home,’ he decided and walked with me, being so happy that he didn’t say another word until we stood at my front door.
    ‘Thanks, Garret,’ I squeezed his hand and looked up into his face.
    ‘What’re ya doin’ tonight?’ he asked, his voice thick and his forget-me-not eyes intense. Such contrast this gentle face of his was to the forceful rest of him, that bulk of a man with shoulders like a bull and sledgehammer fists. I’d always wondered how he could maintain that occupation of his. How could he fit through small windows or hide in narrow corners?
    ‘Don’t know yet,’ I answered.
    He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me close. I noticed the fresh and soapy smell and hid my smile in his shirt.
    ‘You made plans for tonight?’ I asked through the gap between two buttonholes.
    ‘Think so,’ he said softly and pushed the door to the house open.
    ‘Garret, you just picked that lock with one hand while flirting with your lover?’
    ‘Hmm…’ he hummed into my hat.
    We entered my room and, with his hand resting on the small of my back, he toed the door shut and took a step forward to push me against the wall. Despite his impatience, he was very gentle. After all, his weight was about