The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(42)

"That day?" I echoed. "Because of the article?"

Mr. Clark lifted one shoulder and let it drop.

"Or because of his magic?" Matt said.

Mr. Clark paled and his eyes became huge. "H-how…wh-what do you mean?"

"Don't pretend you know nothing about magic. You knew Hale was an apothecary magician, and you were glad when he became a doctor. But then you read that article in The Weekly Gazette and you became worried that Hale was telling people about magic. After speaking to him, you realized he wanted to bring magic into the open through articles like the one Mr. Barratt wrote. That worried you, didn't it? Because if the public learnt that some medicines can be infused with magic, they'd only want to go to those pharmacists, not the artless ones like yourself."

Every word acted like a shove to Mr. Clark's chest, pushing him further back in his armchair until it looked as if it would swallow him. "He had to be stopped!"

Matt leaned forward, his eyes bright. I could hardly believe it myself—the Apothecary's Guild master was admitting to knowing about magic.

"What Hale wanted to achieve was madness. Sheer madness," Mr. Clark said in a high voice. "The public can't find out. Thousands of pharmacists around the country would lose their customers."

"So you killed him," Matt said.

"No!" Mr. Clark leapt up, and Matt stood too. "Of course not. I told him to cease talking to reporters, particularly that Barratt fellow." He shook his finger at Matt. "If you're looking for a murderer, you should investigate him."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Hale said Barratt was desperate for magicians to tell him about their magic, and Hale felt as if he couldn't get out of it." Mr. Clark spoke quickly, the words tripping over themselves as they tumbled from his lips. "Perhaps he told Barratt that he no longer wanted to be mentioned in his articles and Barratt became furious."

"That's ridiculous," I said.

"Dr. Hale was alive when I left the hospital," he said. "I do know that much."

I thought Matt would question him about his connection to Abercrombie, but he did not. "Good day, Mr. Clark. Thank you for your time."

We left, walking quickly down the steps and through the courtyard to the entrance where the porter let us out with a smile.

"Home," Matt said to Bryce,climbing into the cabin behind me. "So what do you think, India? Is Clark guilty?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm highly suspicious. Thank goodness we didn't tell him our names, because I'm sure he'll mention this visit to Abercrombie."

"If he tells Abercrombie an American and Englishwoman visited to discuss magic, Abercrombie will work it out."

I clutched my reticule tighter.

"Stay close to me, India."

I nodded. "It'll be all right, though. Abercrombie simply organized one kidnapping. He hasn't…"

"Killed anyone?" he finished for me. "Not that we know of."

We traveled in silence until we were almost at Park Street. My mind was on the link between Abercrombie and Clark, but Matt's had wandered in a different direction, going by his next statement.

"We now know that Oakshot is one of the best apothecaries," he said. "It could be an indication that he's a magician."

The coach slowed, and Matt alighted first to fold the step down for me. He held out his hand, and I was about to take it when a small boy walked past, very close, and bumped against him.

Matt remained balanced but he turned quickly to confront the lad, only for the boy to stumble into him again.

"Are you unwell?" Matt asked him.

The boy tucked his hands beneath his armpits, shrugged, and ran off.

"Is he all right?" I asked, craning my neck to see. "He looked half starved."

"Bloody hell!" Matt growled. "He stole my watch!"





Chapter 8





Matt sprinted after the lad.

"Thief!" I shouted. "Stop that boy!" But the two ladies strolling down Park Street merely shuffled aside as the lad passed, not so much as lifting a foot to trip him.

The boy disappeared around the corner with Matt several paces behind. Too far behind. He would not be able to catch a nimble boy who could disappear into a crowd or slip through an open window. A heavy weight settled in my stomach. If Matt couldn't catch him and retrieve his watch…

Bristow joined me on the pavement. "Miss Steele? Is something wrong?"

"A pickpocket stole Matt's watch."

"I saw him! He's been waiting nearby for an hour."

"Waiting where?"

"He started in this very spot until I moved him on. He went only as far the neighbor's." He shook his head. "I should have got him to clear off altogether."

If only he had.

"It was as if he was waiting here on purpose," Bristow said.

Waiting for Matt. The lad had been paid by someone to steal Matt's magic watch. My stomach churned at the thought.

"Please have luncheon ready for Mr. Glass's return," I said to Bristow. "He'll be back soon."

Did I believe it? I wasn't sure. I hoped and prayed, but the knot of dread in my chest tightened with every passing second. If Matt didn't get his watch back, he would sicken and die.