Free The Perfect Poison by Amanda Quick Page A

doors, and you got the boy out safely. A fine performance.”
    Edmund grinned. “Will you have other assignments for me, do you think?”
    “Don’t worry. I’m certain that the Jones agency will have occasional use for a man of your talents.”
    The boy looked up at him. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir, but Mr. Fletcher and I have been talking about your detective agency. It sounds like very interesting work. Would you have any need for an agent with my skills?”
    Caleb looked down at him. “What is your name?”
    “Kit, sir. Kit Hubbard.”
    “What sort of skills do you possess, Kit Hubbard?”
    “Well, I can’t make items disappear like Mr. Fletcher here does,” Kit said seriously, “but I’m very good at finding things.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It’s a skill that just sort of came to me in the past year or so. I never used to be able to do it, not the way I do now.”
    Strong psychical talents usually appeared at puberty.
    Caleb exchanged a look with Gabe. Until recently, membership in the Arcane Society had been largely limited to those who had been born into it or who had married into it. Secrecy had been critical to the survival of the organization for centuries. In previous eras those who claimed to possess psychical powers had been accused of witchcraft. That dangerous history had kept the group from actively recruiting outsiders with talent, regardless of their social class.
    But the world was changing. This was the modern age, and the new Master of the Society was a very modern-thinking man.
    Gabe studied the boy. “That sounds like a very interesting talent, Kit.”
    Kit gestured at the jeweled dagger Edmund Fletcher still held. “I’m the one who found that blade for Mr. Hatcher, there.”
    They all looked at the cowled leader, who was just beginning to stir.
    “That’s his name?” Caleb asked. “Hatcher?”
    “That’s what Arnie called him,” Kit said. “Arnie works for him, you see. He told me that if I brought that dagger to Mr. Hatcher, I’d get more money than I’d ever seen in my life. Well, I found it for him, all right. It was in an old house on Skidmore Street. The owner died a long time ago and no one ever cleaned out the basement. The next thing I knew, I woke up on that slab of rock with Arnie holding the damn blade over my head.”
    “I’d like to hear more about your talent, Kit,” Caleb said. “I’m almost certain my agency could use a young man of your abilities.”
    Kit grinned. “Do you pay well, sir?”
    “Very well. Just ask Mr. Fletcher, here.”
    Edmund laughed and ruffled Kit’s hair. “One job for the Jones agency will take care of the rent for a few months and leave some money left over to buy your mother a pretty new bonnet.”
    “Ma will like that,” Kit declared, gleeful.
    “More likely she’ll think you’ve taken up a life of crime,” Caleb said. “Which might not be all that far from the truth.”
    Spellar loomed out of the shadows. He nodded toward Gabe.
    “Thought I’d better warn you that the rumors are already on the streets, sir,” he said. “The gentlemen of the press will be arriving at any moment. This tale is going to be a sensation in the papers in a day or so. I know you don’t want the Society or the Jones name involved if it can be avoided.”
    This was the modern age, Caleb thought, but there were still sound reasons for cautious dealings with the press.
    “Thank you, Inspector,” Gabe said. “It is obviously past time for the agents of the Jones agency to take their leave.” He looked at Kit and Edmund. “You two will come with us. We’ll convey you to your lodgings. I expect Kit’s mother is more than a little concerned about him.”
    Kit looked at Hatcher. “What will happen to him? Will he go to prison?”
    Hatcher chose that moment to start babbling to Spellar.
    “Charun came to save me,” he said. “He produced a great storm of fire. But a ghost from the Other Side dared to stop him.” He stared at