The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)
C.J. Archer
Chapter 1
London, Spring 1890
"This is it!" Matt folded the newspaper and slapped it down on the table beside his untouched plate of bacon, eggs and toast. He stabbed his finger at a brief article near the bottom of the page. "This is the breakthrough we need. Eat up, India. After breakfast, we're going to the hospital."
"Which hospital?" Duke asked, rising. "What's happened?"
Willie and Cyclops crowded around Matt and peered at the newspaper. I couldn't see over Cyclops's brawny shoulder to read it.
"What's the breakthrough?" I asked.
Cyclops picked up the paper. Willie caught the edge to hold it still, her lips moving as she read.
Cyclops whistled. "Could be," he said, eyes bright. "Could be what we've been looking for."
Willie let go of the paper, looped her arms around her cousin and hugged him. Matt hugged her back. He was trying hard to contain his smile, but he lost the fight and grinned. His gaze connected with mine over the top of Willie's head.
I tried to read the paper, but Duke took it from Cyclops and out of my view. I'd only managed to read the headline and journalist's byline: MEDICAL MIRACLE AT LONDON HOSPITAL, by Oscar Barrett.
"God damn," Duke murmured as he read.
"Will someone tell me what it's about?" I asked, only just managing not to stamp my foot. "Is there evidence of a magical doctor?"
"Possibly," Matt said. "If the article is accurate."
"Why wouldn't it be accurate?" Willie asked, returning to her chair and her breakfast of sausages and bacon.
"Because newspaper men like to sensationalize." Matt also sat, and the rest of us followed suit.
I finally managed to grab the newspaper and read the article. According to Oscar Barrett, a patient at the London Hospital had been declared dead upon arrival by one doctor, only to sit up after being tended to by another. According to a witness, the patient then asked for an ale to slake his "devil of a thirst." A representative for the hospital said the first doctor made a mistake. The reporter, however, insisted the witness was reliable and that the patient had presented with no pulse and wasn't breathing when Dr. Hale "worked his magic."
"An interesting last line," I said.
"That isn't the first time that reporter has used it," Matt said. "That's the third piece I've read by Oscar Barrett in The Weekly Gazette where he uses the exact same phrase."
How curious. "Dr. Hale," I said, setting the newspaper down beside my plate. "That name seems a little familiar, but I can't place it." I re-read the article then poured over it a third time. I felt Matt's gaze upon me but didn't glance up. I didn't want to face him in case he read the doubt on my face. In the end, he guessed anyway.
"India?" he urged. "You don't seem very enthusiastic."
I was about to tell him why but changed my mind. From his tone, I guessed he had the same doubts too. Expressing them didn't make them disappear or change the course of what we must do next. I cut the top off my boiled egg. "The sooner we finish breakfast, the sooner we can go to the hospital and verify the claim ourselves."
Matt's elderly aunt entered the dining room, putting an end to the discussion of Dr. Hale's medical miracle. While she knew that Matt was ill, she didn't know the magical nature of it. Few did. That was how it must remain.
"What a lovely morning," she said, pouring herself a cup of tea at the sideboard. "India, will you walk with me today?"
"I have errands to run with Matt," I said. "Perhaps Willie can accompany you."
Willie and Miss Glass shot me matching withering glares.
"I can't," Willie said. "I've got errands to run too."
"No you don't," Duke said, sitting back with a smile. "We're free all day."
"Then you go."
"I will, if Miss Glass can put up with my company."
Miss Glass nibbled the edge of her toast. "Gladly. Your company is always welcome, Duke. Yours too, Cyclops."
Willie dropped her fork on the plate, making Miss Glass jump. "And my company?"
"Is tolerable."
"Fine. If you insist that I come, Letty, I will."
A short, charged silence was only broken by Miss Glass's resigned sigh. "Only if you refrain from smoking."
"Christ," Willie muttered, stabbing a sausage with her fork. "It's bad enough you order me about in here, you got to do it outside, too?"
"It's for your own good. Smoking is a disgusting habit. I don't suppose you'll change into a dress?"
"No!"
"Then you'll have to walk several paces behind."
Willie dropped her fork again and a sausage rolled off the plate and onto the floor. "I ain't the goddamned maid."
Miss Glass winced. "Do you have to use such vulgar language?"
"Goddamned ain't a cuss word. Not like fu—"
"Willie!" Matt pinned her with a glare and she pressed her lips together. "Aunt, let Willie walk alongside you."