Free Lost and Gone Forever by Alex Grecian Page B

who thinks women aren’t as smart as men. That’s ridiculous. Only I don’t like to see you put yourself in any sort of danger, that’s all.”
    “Asking questions here and there won’t cause any danger.”
    “That’s precisely what does cause danger. Be quiet and let me think.”
    He looked again at the Walter Day case files, none of which contained anything useful. He wondered what might become of him if Hatty Pitt left. He would be alone in this office every day, obsessing further and deeper over an unsolvable mystery, caring less and less about everything else in the world. The fog would drift in through the doors and the windows and would envelop him. And he would disappear as surely as Walter had, only his body would still inhabit this office and he would still shuffle about as if he were actually contributing something to society. With no one to interact with him, to contradict him and challenge him, he might very well go mad.
    “All right. Take the case.” He held up a finger to cut off her excited response. “But every day, at the end of the day, you and I will discuss this case of yours, along with any other case you decide to take into your own hands, and I will be involved in all ways I deem appropriate. You will take no action that is not approved by me. Is that agreeable enough?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good.” He scowled at her. “Well, go on, then.”
    She turned and went, but stopped in the doorway and looked back. “Thank you,” she said.
    “You’re welcome.”
    “And I promise I won’t be in any danger.”
    “That’s not a thing you can promise. Just say you will try to keep yourself out of danger.”
    “I will.”
    “Then it’s settled.”
    “You’re very kind to care about my well-being.”
    He blinked at her, unsure of what to say.
    “But,” she said, “you would be much more attractive if you’d cut your hair back away from your eyes.”
    She left, and Hammersmith stared, confused, at the door. What did his hair have to do with anything?

14
    E sther Paxton pressed Walter’s suit, and she picked out the finest merchandise from her shop window for herself. She would be careful with the dress and put it back in the window when they returned from Plumm’s.
    It had taken a great deal of persuasion on Walter’s part to get her to visit the department store, but he had finally won her over by suggesting it might be a good thing for her to be seen there. She would be an ambassador of sorts, welcoming Plumm’s in its new glory back to her neighborhood. Far from seeming weak or frightened by the competition, she would be perceived as a confident merchant making a goodwill appearance.
    Privately, Day was worried about Esther’s financial future. It occurred to him that she might be better off relocating to some smaller shop farther away from the massive competition.
    And the midnight visit from Ambrose had left him shaken. Was it possible that Jack was at Plumm’s? Did he work there or had he broken in? If it even was Jack. Perhaps Day was inclined to see Jack’s hand in everything. But he remained nervous about taking Estherthere, and his concern was only ameliorated by the fact that it was broad daylight. Or the closest thing London had seen to broad daylight in the past month.
    As the weather grew warmer and the slush evaporated from the streets, fog continued to swirl in, rolling down the roads and pooling in low-lying areas. Esther took Walter’s elbow, and he escorted her up Throgmorton Street, listening for oncoming traffic and steering her around puddles in the path ahead. Plumm’s seemed to rush at them, pushing its bulk through the fog, and they paused to admire its immensity. In the lower windows, a family of mannequins was picnicking by a stream made of shimmering blue fabric. A gentleman offered a lady a parasol under the light of a gas globe that was meant to evoke the moon. A stuffed horse trotted through a fabulous wood constructed of coatracks and armoires. Above