The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(41)

"Yes, sir, in the cellar. We supply to some large organizations, including the Royal Navy, Army and the East India Company. Mr. Clark oversees it all. Your company will be in good hands, sir."

"I'll take that on board when making my decision. I haven't decided if I want to go with Oakshot's, or perhaps even a smaller company, like Pitt's."

"Sir, I would caution you not to go with either."

"Why?"

"Mr. Pitt's operation is not equipped for a large international order. While his reputation is fair, and he has a loyal base of customers, he's simply not set up for mass production. And while Mr. Oakshot is considered to be an excellent apothecary…well, there's something not quite right about him, sir." He indicated a door and we entered, but he did not.

"What do you mean?" Matt asked.

"It's hard to say, but Mr. Clark doesn't like Mr. Oakshot, and if Mr. Clark doesn't like someone, there's a good reason. I'll go and tell Mr. Clark you're here, shall I?"

"Yes, of course. Oh, just one thing. I seem to have broken my watch." Matt patted his jacket at his chest. What was he up to? "Do you know a good watch repairer?"

"You could ask at the Watchmaker's Guild hall, sir. It's in Warwick Lane, not far from here."

"Do you know the master there?"

"It's a Mr. Abercrombie."

"You've met him?"

"Several times. He sometimes dines here with Mr. Clark." With a jerky nod, the lad hurried off.

"Very cleverly done, Matt," I said.

"Thank you," he said. "So it seems we have a connection between the two guilds."

"It may mean nothing." If it meant nothing, why did my heart pound and my head spin with possibilities?

"Or it may mean they exchange information about certain topics. Magic, for instance. I'm glad we used assumed names."

He inspected the floor-to-ceiling glass cabinet of medicine jars while I stood by the long case clock. It had a lovely gold face, with black hands and numerals, and a gold lock. I wondered if the key was kept nearby.

"You want to open it up, don't you?" Matt murmured, suddenly standing behind me.

"I thought you were inspecting those jars."

"There are only so many medicine labels one can read before growing bored." He removed a glove and touched the lock. "Shall we look for the key?"

"The porter probably has it. He looked very responsible and not the sort to leave a long case clock unlocked. Anyone could come along and tamper with it."

"You may not believe this, India, but there are very few people who would tamper with a clock. We don't all want to dissect them."

A small man entered, his steps quick and neat. Slender fingers did up his jacket buttons then smoothed an errant strand of hair into place. He sported a cleanly shaved face and sky blue eyes that darted between me and Matt. He shook Matt's hand and introduced himself as Mr. Josiah Clark the guild master.

"Please take a seat," he said. "Let's see what I can do for you, Mr. Wild. Cartwright tells me you own a company in America. What is it your company does?"

"Actually, I have a confession to make," Matt said. "I told your porter and apprentice that so I could meet you."

Mr. Clark's face fell. He glanced at the door. Matt rose and shut it then sat again.

"Mrs. Wild and I are private inquiry agents helping the police in their investigation into Dr. Hale's death."

Mr. Clark shot to his feet. "Get out."

"Sit down, Mr. Clark, or I'll be inclined to tell Detective Inspector Brockwell that you were not helpful and that perhaps he should look into your operation here."

"My operation! There is nothing illegal going on here."

"No doubt Brockwell told you that Dr. Hale was murdered."

"I haven't spoken to the police, and nor do I expect to."

Matt glanced at me.

"I've done nothing wrong, Mr. Wild, if that's what your name really is."

"You had an argument with Dr. Hale on the day of his death," Matt said. "What did you argue about?"

"That is none of your affair!"

"Mr. Clark, you don't seem to realize, but I will report your reluctance to cooperate to Detective Inspector Brockwell. He won't look kindly upon your silence. If you truly have nothing to hide, then just tell the truth."

Mr. Clark looked longingly at the door then sighed. He sat again. "Dr. Hale's name appeared in the newspapers that morning. He'd reportedly performed a medical miracle. I wanted to know more about it, how he'd brought that patient back to life, that sort of thing."

"And what did you learn?"

"That he didn't perform any sort of miracle. The patient was still alive at the time he administered the medicine."

"So if that was all, why did you argue with him?"

Mr. Clark swallowed and his gaze darted to the door again. "He's defaming the good name of the guild through his ridiculous claims."

"But the guild was never mentioned in the article, and he's not even a member anymore."

"He was stripped of his membership that day, as it happens. We called a special meeting and voted him out."