Free The Silk Thief by Deborah Challinor Page A

is he now?’
    ‘Long gone.’
    ‘Back to England?’
    ‘Let’s just say he’s gone,’ Leo said. ‘I care for the lad.’
    Bella drummed her manicured fingernails on the polished surface of her desk, then said, ‘Well, I have to say, Furniss reaped what he sowed.’ She glanced at Leo. ‘But we all do, don’t we? I’d like you to take Friday Woolfe a message, if you will.’
    ‘How do you know we’re even acquainted?’
    Bella stared at him unblinkingly. ‘I know a lot of things, Mr Dundas. Will you take her a message or not?’
    Leo briefly considered agreeing, providing Bella told him why she thought Friday had killed Furniss, but suspected he’d have more luck getting the answer from Friday herself. Bella Shand would probably lie. She clearly didn’t like Friday — he’d heard it in her voice when she’d said Friday’s name.
    ‘I will,’ he said, ‘but I won’t be involved in any transaction that might cause Miss Woolfe or her friends harm.’
    Bella shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Of course not.’
    Lighting a taper, she slotted a nib into a silver holder and wrote a short note, blotted the ink, then folded it. From a flat wooden box she selected a stick of jade-green wax, and held one end over the taper’s flame, turning it around and around so each side warmed evenly. Finally the wax melted sufficiently and, not bothering with a wafer, she placed a blob across the join and pressed down with a seal.
    Then she started all over again.
    Oh, for God’s sake, Leo thought, get on with it.
    In the end she sealed the letter four times.
    ‘You’re even ruder than Walter,’ Leo said.
    Bella’s eyes narrowed unpleasantly. ‘I beg your pardon?’
    ‘You can assume I won’t look. I have more integrity than that.’
    And he wouldn’t look. He’d find out some other way.
    Elizabeth opened the front door. ‘Good afternoon. May I help you?’
    ‘Aye, I’d like to see Friday Woolfe, if you please.’ The man smiled.
    He was probably her age, tall, had fair hair greying to silver tied back in a neat cue, a moustache and a short beard, gold earrings and a gold tooth. Obviously a sailor. The tars loved Friday.
    ‘I’m afraid she’s fully occupied for the next few days. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll check the appointment book. She might have something on Saturday.’
    Apparently amused, the man shook his head. ‘You’ve got the wrong end of the stick. I’m not a customer. I just need to talk to her.’
    ‘I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.’
    ‘I haven’t said it. It’s Leo Dundas.’
    ‘Oh, you’re the tattooist!’ Elizabeth offered her hand. ‘You know, I can’t tell you what your tattoos have done for my bank balance. The gentlemen love them. Friday’s my most popular girl.’
    ‘Aye, well, I don’t think that’s the reason she has herself tattooed.’
    ‘No, but still, every cloud.’
    ‘You’re not keen on the art of tattoo?’
    ‘I wasn’t. I must admit I did think they were, well, cheap. But lately I’ve come to appreciate them.’
    ‘Now that you’ve seen the contribution they make to your coffers?’
    ‘Something like that, yes,’ Elizabeth confessed. ‘Friday can probably see you for fifteen minutes, if you don’t mind waiting.’
    Leo didn’t. Elizabeth gave him the choice of sitting in her office, or in the salon with a waiting customer and three of her girls. Leo, never averse to the sight of an attractive young lady, chose the salon.
    ‘Afternoon,’ Leo said to the cove already settled on the sofa, his top hat balanced on his knee.
    ‘Good afternoon.’
    ‘Proper weather for staying indoors,’ Leo remarked as he sank into an armchair by the robustly banked fire.
    ‘It is that.’
    A blonde girl with lovely brown eyes and a temptingly full bosom gave him a welcoming smile. ‘Good day, sir. I’m Connie. Do you have a specific appointment or would you like to choose?’
    ‘Yes!’ a gorgeously plump lass with shining brown hair said