The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(49)

"Perhaps Catherine could report back to them," I said, as an idea occurred to me. "But she could pass on false information."

Both Cyclops and Matt shook their heads but gave no explanation for their disagreement. They were being such men about the whole thing, and I appealed to Catherine for her opinion. But she shook her head too.

"Without my father's agreement, it's pointless," she said. "He won't allow it, and I don't want to go behind his back. What if you confront Abercrombie?"

"I've tried that, and he either chases me away or orders someone to escort me out of his shop," I said.

"I think it's an excellent idea," Matt said. "I've decided to confront him about his meetings with Clark from the Apothecary's Guild. This way we kill two birds with one stone." He checked the clock on the mantel. "We'll go now, India, if you don't mind."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Of course. He won't dare pull the same stunt he did last time we visited his shop, and your presence may even irk him enough that he gives more information than he should. Besides, who else will tell me if he's trying to sell me a good watch or a bad one?"

"I think you'll rattle him well and good," Catherine said. "Is Mr. Bailey going with you?"

"He's not required. Perhaps you two can get to know one another a little better in our absence."

"That's not a good idea," Cyclops said, rising.

"Nonsense." Matt pressed his friend's shoulder until Cyclops sat again. "Miss Mason seems in no hurry to leave."

"Indeed I'm not," she said. "I'd like to get to know you better, Mr. Bailey. I'd like that very much."





Chapter 9





The last time I'd been to Abercrombie's Fine Watches and Clocks on Oxford Street, I'd been chased by vigilantes after Mr. Abercrombie accused me of stealing one of his watches. Although I knew Matt was right, and Abercrombie wouldn't dare do such a thing again now that he knew what Matt was capable of, I was still anxious as we headed into the shop. I expected our reception to be frosty, at the very least.

I was right.

Abercrombie spied us immediately and rushed forward before any of his four staff could greet us. He glared at me over the pince nez perched precariously on the tip of his nose. "What do you want?" he hissed under his breath. "State your business then leave without creating a scene."

The wicked gleam in Matt's eyes gave me fair warning of his plans, but I suspected Mr. Abercrombie didn't see it coming. "Now, now, Mr. Abercrombie," Matt said loudly enough that the other customers could hear. "You must put that misunderstanding behind you. It must be difficult to admit that you were wrong to accuse Miss Steele of theft, but she holds no grudges. Or are you still upset that the police questioned you about your involvement in Daniel Gibbons's murder?"

The sound of several gasps momentarily drowned out the ticking of dozens of clocks. The customers watched the scene playing out before them openly instead of with surreptitious sideways glances. Two customers even left. The staff stopped serving and stared at their master in disbelief.

Mr. Abercrombie's oiled mustache wriggled, worm-like, above his lip. He looked as if he wanted to thrash Matt. Part of me wished he would try, simply so I could see Matt thrash him instead. "Perhaps you'd like to join me out the back." Mr. Abercrombie did not wait for an answer but marched off.

Matt didn't follow, so I remained at his side. He held his elbow out to me. "I'm here to purchase a watch," he said idly. "What do you think of that one, Miss Steele?" he asked, pointing to an elegant enamel faced watch with a calendar.

"Does it have tourbillon regulator?" I asked the assistant behind the counter. "No? What about a karrusel?"

"Er…" He looked to Mr. Abercrombie.

Mr. Abercrombie shooed him out of the way. "So you wish to play this silly game," he said to us when we were alone. "Very well, let's play." He drew the watch out from the glass cabinet and laid it on the counter in front of Matt.

Matt didn't even look at it. "I hear you're asking young women to spy on us now."

Mr. Abercrombie's head jerked up.

"That's low, even by your standards," Matt went on.

"I, I…" Abercrombie licked his lips. "I don't know what you mean."

I could not believe Matt would be so blatant, and yet I wanted to applaud him. It was the best—and perhaps only— way to get Abercrombie to leave us alone; to make him think we were always one step ahead.

"Don't play the fool with me," Matt growled, voice low. "Mason himself has not tattled but not everyone in the household is loyal to you. I have an idea. Let's cut out the middleman and I'll report directly to you, beginning now."

"You're mad," Mr. Abercrombie said.

Matt leaned his knuckles on the counter. Abercrombie took a step back, putting distance and the counter between them. "I'm damned furious," Matt said. "As anyone would be after being kidnapped and kept prisoner for several hours."

Mr. Abercrombie swallowed heavily and stepped back again, knocking the clocks on the wall behind him. One slipped to the side and the cuckoo popped out, grazing Abercrombie's ear.