Thirty-Nine
Thank heavens you came here today,” Mrs. Grimshaw said. “He intended for me to die. He said it would look as though I had accidentally caused an explosion by mixing volatile chemicals together. He said the police would never know what had happened.”
There was a shiver in her voice and in her hands. Beatrice put a cup of hot tea in front of her and surveyed the elderly woman with concern. The apothecary was still in shock.
“Drink some tea,” Beatrice said gently.
Mrs. Grimshaw cheered up at the sight of the tea. She plucked a small packet from her voluminous apron and emptied half the contents into the cup. Leaning forward, she inhaled the vapors. They clearly had a therapeutic effect on her. Her voice and hands steadied.
She frowned, bewilderment clouding her face. “How did you discover that I was in danger?”
“We didn’t know,” Beatrice said. “Not with any degree of certainty.” She sat down at the small table and poured tea into Joshua’s cup and her own. “But Mr. Gage’s intuition guided us here today. He had a feeling that it was imperative we find you immediately.”
Mrs. Grimshaw had been badly frightened but she was otherwise uninjured. Beatrice had made tea while Joshua had gone outside to tell Henry what had occurred and to send him on a short errand. She did not know what the nature of the errand was but Henry had taken off at once.
Mrs. Grimshaw gave Joshua a thoughtful look. “I vow, you must have some psychical talent, sir, to know that I was in trouble.”
“That’s what I keep telling him,” Beatrice said. She smiled across the table at Joshua.
He shot her an irritated glance and turned back to Mrs. Grimshaw. “It was not paranormal talent that brought us to your doorstep this morning. It was logic and deductive reasoning, and, I might add, a bit of damned good luck.”
Mrs. Grimshaw glanced at Beatrice, a question in her eyes.
“Mr. Gage does not believe in the paranormal,” Beatrice explained.
Mrs. Grimshaw’s expression cleared. “Ah, that explains it. Well, he’s not the first man of talent to deny his own ability, and I daresay he won’t be the last.”
Beatrice tried to hide a smile but she knew Joshua saw it. He looked pained but he did not pursue the subject.
“I regret that I cannot give you more time to recover from your ordeal, Mrs. Grimshaw,” he said. “But there is considerable urgency in this affair. We must move quickly or others may die. Will you please tell me what happened here today?”
“Certainly, sir, but I’m afraid I do not know a great deal about this situation myself. All I can tell you is that shortly before you arrived, one of my regular customers, the one who always buys my special compound of salts, entered the shop and asked me to make up his usual order. I thought nothing of it. I turned away to mix the compound. When it was ready I started to set it on the counter. But he was suddenly behind me. Moved like a cat in the night, he did. He clamped a wet cloth over my face. I remember smelling the chloroform and listening to him tell me that I was going to die in a great fire and then nothing else until you roused me.”
Joshua’s mouth tightened. “This is my fault, Mrs. Grimshaw. The villain I am pursuing reasoned that sooner or later I would find you and that you might be able to lead me to him. He wanted you dead but not before he got a fresh supply of the salts.”
Mrs. Grimshaw’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand. Who is this villain?”
“The man who tried to murder you and burn down your shop today works for him,” Joshua said. “His name is Lancing. He’s a scientist who has been using a professional killer to run errands for him for nearly a year.”
“Good heavens,” Mrs. Grimshaw whispered, stunned.
“Can you describe the man who bought the salts and tried to murder you?”
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Grimshaw said. She collected herself with a visible effort. “He never gave me his name, just told me that he had been sent to buy the salts and some other rare chemicals that only I can supply. I never liked him but he always paid immediately. Never asked for credit. One can’t always be too choosy when it comes to customers.”
“So true,” Beatrice said. “What else can you tell us?”
“Oh, he was quite distinctive. A foreigner, no question about it. Spoke English but with a heavy accent. He was tall. He always wore a low-crowned hat but I could tell that he was quite bald. Had a face like a skull and the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen.”
“Yes,” Joshua said. “That description fits the professional assassin.”
Mrs. Grimshaw shuddered. “See here, do you think he will come back when he realizes that he failed?”
“No, because he will know that there is no point in taking that risk,” Joshua said. “But to be on the safe side, I am going to ask an old associate of mine to send a couple of men to keep watch on you and your shop until this affair is concluded.”
Mrs. Grimshaw’s eyes widened. “Bodyguards, do you mean?”
“Yes. I sent our coachman off with a message a short time ago. Your watchers should arrive shortly. We will not leave you until they get here.”
Mrs. Grimshaw heaved a sigh of relief. “I am very grateful to you, sir. But I really don’t understand why this Mr. Lancing you speak of would send his servant to murder me. I told you, I’m the only apothecary in London who can supply him with the chemicals he requires.”
“I think Lancing is convinced that he will not be needing a steady supply of the rare chemicals much longer,” Joshua said. “He believes that he is nearing the end of his grand experiment.”