Page 11 of Infernal Vices

CHAPTER 6

THE SCOOP

When I finally arrived at my place of business Annie stood up abruptly from her desk with a harried, concerned look on her face and waited anxiously for me as I unbuttoned my greatcoat.

“Apologies for my lateness, it has been the most frightful morning,” I informed, as she took my hat, cane and greatcoat from me. Annie knew about the burglary from the notes I’d sent her earlier, and no doubt, if the newspapers had gotten hold of the story, the whole of London would know about it soon.

“Oh sir, it’s the most frightful news. There have been many, many telegrams, sir. I’ve put them with the letters on your desk.” She paused and chewed on her lower lip, appearing worried.

“There’s also a guest waiting in your office,” she admitted nervously.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “You know well and good that I don’t permit visitors to be left alone in my office!” I reprimanded.

“Yes sir, sorry sir. I do beg your pardon, but the gentleman said he’s your dearest friend and he was assured you would be coming up the rear, right behind him,” Annie said with sincere innocence. “He was correct sir. The gentleman has only been alone for a minute.”

The man said I would be coming up the rear, aye! I wondered if Sebastian was japing. Would he visit me at my place of work, and so soon after we had parted? That pleasant thought made butterflies in my chest take flight. Or was Lawrence Blake waiting to speak with me again? The butterflies plummeted like hailstones. Blake was the last person I wanted to see today! Whoever it was, I would not encourage any more distractions or leave him alone in my office for a moment longer.

I strode down the hall and paused at the threshold to my office seeing not Blake or Sebastian, but the sturdy bulk of Charles Ashe standing at the mantle. He was warming his hands at the gas fire and looking at the silver framed photograph of my long-passed parents I displayed there.

“Uh, hmm,” I coughed. Ashe turned from the flames, his handsome visage beamed at seeing me. The younger man was broad of shoulder, much like a Rugby player, yet his waist was svelte. He wore a thick, waxed chestnut brown moustache. His wavy, tousled hair was close cut to the nape and parted to the left with a rebellious curl over his brow which he seemed to brush away as an affectation. The suit he wore was the finest of tailoring, made of heather hued tweed. His complexion was usually apricot, but now his cheeks were ruddy. Had he been standing too close to the fire, or had the fellow jogged to my establishment? Oh dear, I knew exactly the reason why he would rush to my side! The predatory, unabashedly sexual way Ashe looked at me always made me feel deeply self-conscious. It was as if he wanted to eat me up! And I suppose, after the events of the thwarted initiation ritual, he’d already made it abundantly clear that he did! Again, I was struck by the lasciviousness of his gaze and felt rather awkward as he observed me with heavy-lidded chocolate brown eyes, artist’s eyes, tracing my features to imprint into his memory. If he looked at me like this in public there would be no doubt that he was a sodomite.

“Ah, the man of the hour! Forgive the intrusion but I was most eager to parlay with you,” Ashe brightened as he strode across the room to meet me. He gripped my biceps with his strong, capable hands, pulling me in for an embrace. “Bless-ed is the seed,” he whispered at my ear then pulled back and arched his brows waiting for my rote response. I kept my hands clasped behind my back, my stance rigid.

“Ah, yes, Bless-ed is the seed,” I responded stiffly.

He must have experienced alarm in my rigid countenance because on meeting my gaze he loosened his grip and instead caressed up and down the arms of my navy frock coat, petting me in a gentling fashion. His skin was not pressed to mine, but still, I was distressed by the unsolicited intimacy of the gesture. Did he think we were on those terms because he’d seen me in a state of undress at the thwarted ritual?

“Are you alright, old man? You’re trembling?”

“I understood from Brother Blake that, in the circumstances, it would be best for all concerned to cease contact,” I said, confused. “He explained that just the other day when he and Benjamin came for tea. He directed that after the explosion at Exeter Hall we must protect one another’s interests and regroup when the dust settles and a new meeting location has been decided.”

“Indeed, indeed, but I heard on the grapevine what happened to you this morning. I could not leave a brother to deal with such a burden alone,” Ashe explained sympathetically. “It must have been the most dreadful shock.” He paused for a moment, and then almost shyly asked,

“Did you perchance, see him?” he wheedled. “What did he take? What did Scotland Yard say about the investigation?” The questions barrelled through Ashe’s pretty, moustache framed lips.

“I beg your pardon?” I exclaimed in faux confusion as I stepped away from his burning touch to take a seat behind my desk, ensuring I was out of the reach of his roving hands.

“The Dandy Rogue, the robbery! Did you not know? The story will make the nationals, afternoon edition!” he relayed excitedly.

“Oh dear!” I groaned and rubbed a hand across my mouth with worry. Now I understood why he was here.

I leaned back in my leather chair and rubbed at my temples. The damnable headache from earlier was coming back! I did not court attention, I did not want to be the subject of society chatter, and this burglary would bring the worst kind of attention to my home and business.

“According to Ardmillan this Dandy Rogue is the very thief who half-inched our magical prick. We cannot complete the great work without it.” Ashe surmised.

I could see by the desire and excitement on Charles Ashe’s face that, just like Detective Inspector Dancer, he was thirsty to get a lead on the identity of the Dandy Rogue. I picked up the first telegram on the stack of correspondence, opened it, and saw it was from the London Standard newspaper who wished to arrange an appointment to interview me about the robbery. The next telegram was from The Times, then the Westminster Gazette. There were ten telegrams and each wanted the same thing.

“Ahh, the dogs are on your scent,” Ashe chuckled as he came to my side and uninvited, picked up one of the telegrams and read it.

“But I’m sure that, as my bless-ed brother, you will of course allow me an exclusive insight into what occurred…for the Illustrated Police News.” He laid a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I looked up and saw how he grinned oh-so confidently. I knew then that I was in a bind. I wanted nothing from Ashe whereas he wanted more than I was prepared to give. Alas, I had no choice but to be cordial and forthcoming with him. I was required to help my brother, as he was required to help me.

“It has been quite a trying morning, Mr. Ashe,” I stuttered.

“Benedict!” Ashe sighed reproachfully, “I thought we’d done away with such formalities,” he licked his lips and held my eye contact. My skin heated and my cheeks flushed. I could not say a word that would upset a member of the cabal and cause suspicion of my loyalty. This was interminable! I was sure now that I would be required to bow to all requests the brothers had of me. I was under the thumb and I didn’t like it, not one bit.

“What can I do for you…Charles?” I drawled resignedly.

“You can offer me a bally drink for a start!” he guffawed. “It’s freezing outside and a man could die of thirst, you know!”