Free The Lion's Courtship: An Anna Kronberg Mystery by Annelie Wendeberg Page B

her hindquarters closer to the doorstep’s edge and her neck a little father from the warming waterproof to peek out onto the street.
    Some fifty yards away, a cab stops. A man alights who doesn’t belong, but isn’t a stranger, either.
    Scotty rubs the goop from her eyes and watches the gentleman cross Drury Lane. He approaches a girl. Scotty knows that girl, too. Although this one’s new here, everyone knows her story. It’s written in her face, as not to say carved .
    Hmm , is all Scotty thinks when the gentleman and the girl disappear into a house. One cough later, Scotty retreats to her companion’s side to lean her head onto the sharp contours of Betty’s bony shoulder.

Scarred

    I t’s been a long and hard day at Guy’s Hospital and Anna has been yearning for her bed since the moment she peeled off her male masquerade and slipped into skirts and shirt. Despite her tiredness, a question keeps burning in the pit of her stomach, and so she begins searching the streets for Sally.
    At the corner to Mercer Street, she finds her talking to a potential customer. Anna waits for the pair to disappear behind a billboard. After a few moments, they emerge. He drops a coin on the pavement and walks away. How odd. Had she not asked him to pay her in advance? Sally wipes herself with her skirts, bends down, and picks up her fee. Anna decides that it’s now or very much later.
    ‘Hello, Sally,’ she calls and approaches. The other woman gifts her a listless stare. ‘I have a question. It’ll take only a minute.’
    ‘What did the boy do now?’ Sally asks and spits a glob of what might or might not be saliva on the pavement.
    ‘No. No, he’s a good boy. But you know that. I wanted to ask you about a girl. She had a room at Fat Annie’s, but now works on the street. She has an injury, a long and fresh cut from the corner of her mouth up along her cheek.’ Anna gestures with her finger.
    Sally looks left and right, and, to be certain, over Anna’s shoulder, too. But no lonely man is in reach to serve as an excuse for not being able to stand here and chat.
    ‘She’s been working the area for what might be three or four days now. Very dumb one. Was asking all kinds of stupid questions. Where can I sleep? What am I supposed to do now? ’ Sally’s voice is mocking and high. ‘Everyone knows she didn’t want a cock in her mouth. I told her to stand at the corner over there…’ She waves up Little White Lion Street towards the urinals at Seven Dials. ‘…and when the next one comes, charge twenty pounds for her innocence. Can’t ask for more with that face.’
    ‘Is she still working here?’
    ‘Course she is. Just wait. She’ll show up sooner or later.’ Then, Sally scratches her head. And scratches, and scratches. She pulls a few strands of hair from her scalp, is about to inspect them for infestations of whatever species, but then thinks otherwise. Her company might not be keen to watch the popping of lice between two fingernails.
    ‘Come to think of it… I haven’t seen her last night.’
    ‘What about this man who fancies running his knife over women’s skin?’
    Sally waves dismissively. ‘I don’t believe he did this to that girl. He’s a fine one, he is. An artist, he told me.’ Her eyes are getting a little glassy.
    ‘Does he pay well?’
    ‘Twice as much, and doesn’t even want to—’ She cuts herself off; her focus shifts to the other side of the street.  
    Anna turns. The large silhouette waves a hand, then pretends to be busy with the contents of his trouser pockets.
    ‘He doesn’t even want to do what, Sally?’
    ‘Fuck. He doesn’t want to fuck. Only when I have my period. Never hurt anyone, just tickles with that blade of his.’ She shoves past Anna and walks towards yet another man spotted in not-too-far a distance. She wiggles her hindquarters and whistles a tune.
    Anna huffs and crosses the street.
    ‘Hello, Garret. Sally is busy at the moment.’
    ‘I wasn’t waiting