Page 98 of Garden of Lies

Fulbrook stiffened. “I heard she was murdered by one of her clients.”

“She was dealing quantities of the drug on the side. I’m not sure if Cobb got rid of her because she went into business for herself or if he simply decided that she knew too much. I suspect that’s the reason he had Anne Clifton killed.”

“The Clifton woman was a suicide or an overdose.”

“It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you are the one member of the British side of the business who is still standing.”

“That’s ridiculous. Cobb can’t get rid of me. I’m the only one who can supply him with the drug. He knows that.”

“I suggest you take up that matter with Cobb. He’s in town.”

Fulbrook snorted. “You’re wrong. His ship does not dock until tomorrow.”

“He deceived you, Fulbrook. Cobb and his pet assassin arrived a few days ago, right around the time of Anne Clifton’s death.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I found the assassin’s body last night. It was in a crate at the warehouse. You know the place, I’m sure. It’s where Rosemont delivered the ambrosia that was scheduled to be shipped to New York.”

Slater started to turn away. He stopped when Fulbrook grabbed his arm.

“Take your hand off me,” Slater said very softly.

Fulbrook flinched. He released Slater’s sleeve as though the fabric were made of hellfire.

“You said Cobb is in London,” Fulbrook hissed. “If that’s true, prove it. Where is he staying?”

“I can’t be absolutely certain,” Slater said. “But I found a card from the Stokely Hotel on the dead assassin. I sent a man to take a look. Sure enough, there is an American businessman registered there under a different name. The assassin apparently masqueraded as his valet.”

Fulbrook was dumbfounded. “You’re lying. You must be lying.”

“We’ll soon find out, won’t we? The news will be a great sensation in the press.”

“What news?”

“Your death, of course. The murder of a gentleman who is as well-known in social circles as you are is always news.”

“Are you threatening me, you bloody madman?”

“No, I’m doing you the courtesy of giving you a warning,” Slater said. “I suggest you go directly to the railway station and depart London on the first available train. It is your only hope.”

“Cobb would not dare murder me. He needs me, I tell you.”

“I suppose there is a slight possibility that he won’t kill you.”

“He wouldhang.”

“If he got caught,” Slater said. “But even if I’m wrong about Cobb’s intentions, that still leaves all your other enemies, doesn’t it?”

“Now what are you talking about?”

“I have made arrangements for the various pages of your journal and the photographs and negatives to be delivered to your respective victims tomorrow. Notes will be included mentioning that the materials were discovered in your safe. How long do you think you will survive once the powerful men you are blackmailing discover that you are the extortionist? Perhaps, instead of a train ticket, you should consider booking passage to Australia.”

Fulbrook stared at him, stunned. “You’re a dead man.A dead man.”

Slater did not bother to respond. He walked across the street and climbed into the hansom. The cab set off at a brisk pace.

He glanced back just before the vehicle turned the corner. Fulbrook was still standing in front of his club looking as if he had just received a visitation by the devil.