The Body Snatchers Affair (25 page)

“That is the truth. We have never met vis-à-vis.”

“Do you still have him under surveillance?”

“No. That is what I meant in saying I am no longer encumbered—my inquiries concerning Mr. Montgomery have ceased. As have yours, I trust, now that he is no longer threatened by his minimal involvement in the Gold King scandal. Or by the villainous Artemas Sneed.”

“Why is Sneed no longer a threat?”

“Come, come, Mrs. Carpenter, you mustn't try to fence with me. You know perfectly well that the man died a violent death two nights ago, having yourself discovered his body at the Wanderer's Rest.”

She blinked at him. “How do you know that?”

“I have my sources, as you have yours.”

That was almost the same thing she'd said to Carson at the Palace Hotel. Holmes's claim seemed equally valid, annoyingly so. Whereas it had taken her and John years of combined activity to compile their various sources, the Englishman had managed to develop his in less than a year of residence in the city and without any official standing. How he'd accomplished this by flitting about in the shadowy underworld on mysterious missions was as astonishing as it was inexplicable.

“Ah, yes,” he continued in his self-aggrandizing fashion, “my brain attic is filled with a vast array of knowledge. Else how would I have earned my reputation as the world's finest detective?”

“Oh, indeed,” Sabina said, but as always he was immune to sarcasm. “Will you at least tell me how you found out about Carson's past and Sneed's attempt at blackmail, and why you took it upon yourself to investigate?”

That dratted smile again. But this time he deigned to give her an answer of sorts. “One trained in the finer points of observation and ratiocination learns much in places such as Soho in my homeland and the Barbary Coast in this otherwise fair city.”

“So you were shadowing Carson in an attempt to save him from Sneed? Or was it Sneed you were after?”

“All criminals and their nefarious deeds are grist for the mill of Sherlock Holmes. Including your Mr. Montgomery, if he had proven to be more culpable eight years ago than he was.”

“He's not my Mr. Montgomery.”

“Ah? Your liaison with him has ended?”

“That is none of your concern, Mr. Holmes.”

“Indubitably not. But if you and the gentleman have come to a parting of the ways, perhaps it is for the best. I have long felt that the estimable if somewhat contentious Mr. Quincannon would make a fitting suitor as well as a worthy business partner.”

The insufferable cheek of the man! The kitten kept her from making an angry retort by mewing, curling a paw around one of her fingers and then nipping with sharp little teeth.

“I should say the little beggar is hungry,” Holmes said. “A spot of milk or cream would seem to be in order.”

Sabina nodded, still not trusting herself to speak.

“And I must be off. Duty calls.” He replaced his cap, turned to open the door. Outside on the stoop, he said, “I really am quite pleased that you like my gift, dear lady.”

“Yes. Thank you again.”

“Not at all. My pleasure.” He bowed. “I expect we shall see each other again before I return to England. Until then,
au revoir
.”

Sabina watched him walk away at a jaunty pace, his stick tapping on the flagstones. The kitten had been a thoughtful gesture, yes, and she was grateful, but Lord, she fervently hoped never to cross the Englishman's path again. If he ever did leave San Francisco, it wouldn't be soon enough to suit her.

She carried the purring kitten—what would she name her? Eve, perhaps?—into the kitchen and introduced her to Adam before pouring out a saucer of cream. Adam and the new addition to the household seemed to take to each other right away, just as she'd hoped. Yes, Eve was the proper name. Adam and Eve.

It was while she was watching Eve lap cream that an afterimage of the bogus Sherlock's jaunty, stick-tapping departure popped into her mind, bringing with it a sudden belated suspicion. It hadn't been Carson he'd been spying on, any more than it had been her. It had, all along, been Artemas Sneed. Suppose, then, he had decided to confront Sneed about the attempted blackmail. Suppose that blackthorn stick of his was not solid wood, but in fact contained a concealed weapon such as a long, sharp sword.

Suppose it was the bogus Mr. Holmes who had skewered Sneed in his room at the Wanderer's Rest.

Possible, entirely possible. He was shrewd enough to have successfully copied his idol's methods of observation and deduction; he might also have adopted a form of self-protection he believed the real Sherlock employed, and not been hesitant to use it if the need arose.

But whether or not that was the true explanation, it was moot. He would never tell. And she, alas, would never know.

 

B
Y
M
ARCIA
M
ULLER AND
B
ILL
P
RONZINI

NOVELS

Double

Beyond the Grave

The Lighthouse

The Bughouse Affair

The Spook Lights Affair

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

Duo

Crucifixion River

NONFICTION

1001 Midnights

 

 

About the Authors

Marcia Muller is the
New York Times
bestselling creator of private investigator Sharon McCone. The author of more than thirty-five novels, Muller received the Mystery Writers of America's Grand Master Award in 2005.

Bill Pronzini, creator of the Nameless Detective, is a highly praised novelist, short-story writer, and anthologist. He received the Grand Master Award from the Mystery Writers of America in 2008, making Muller and Pronzini the only living couple to share the award.

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously.

 

THE BODY SNATCHERS AFFAIR

 

Copyright © 2014 by the Pronzini-Muller Family Trust

 

All rights reserved.

 

Cover art by Gordon Crabb

 

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The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

 

ISBN 978-0-7653-3176-2 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-4299-9723-2 (e-book)

 

e-ISBN 9781429997232

 

First Edition: January 2015