Murder and Misdeeds Read Free Page B

door, leveling a pistol at them.
    Corinne sat, frozen as a statue with fear, clutching at Coffen’s sleeve. It was the second time she and Coffen had been held up in his carriage. But on the other occasion, the coachman’s gun had been loaded, and he had managed to scare the thieves off.
    “This is it,” Coffen said in a hollow voice. “If I don’t come out of this alive, Corinne, I want you to tell Susan ... well, you know. Very fond of her. Love her, in fact.”
    With this heartfelt speech he opened the door and stepped out, holding his left arm suspiciously close to his chest. His coachman and footman were already on the ground, facedown.
    “The lady as well,” the rider ordered. He pitched his voice low to conceal his normal speaking voice.
    Corinne felt sick with fright. She was by no means sure she could stand, but somehow she got out and stood, clinging to Coffen for dear life, while her heart throbbed in her throat. She noticed that Coffen had forgotten to bring the uncharged pistol with him, which was perhaps just as well. A pistol might frighten the highwayman into firing.
    “Take off your hats and shoes and hand them up to me,” he ordered, and they complied. With one hand he examined Coffen’s hat and tossed it aside. Then he took the bills from beneath the ribbons of Corinne’s. While they removed their shoes, she tried to gauge the highwayman’s size and shape, but as he never dismounted, it was difficult. Every inch of him except his hands and chin were hidden, by either hat, clothes, mask, or boots. Neither hands nor chin were unusual in any way. He wore no distinguishing rings. If he walked into her saloon the next day wearing no disguise, she would not recognize him.
    “Shake them out,” he ordered.
    They both shook their shoes. When the bills fell out of Corinne’s, he ordered her to pick them up and give them to him. “I’ll have the brooch as well, milady.”
    She unpinned the brooch and handed it to him. He ran one finger around its edge, felt the roughness of glass, and tossed it aside. Then he cocked his pistol at Coffen.
    “No one travels this light. Your money or your life, sir,” he said, in a voice that raised goose bumps, although it was perfectly civil. Perhaps it was the pistol, aimed at his victim, that made the whole affair so terrifying.
    Coffen felt cold all over, as if his heart had turned into a block of ice. He reached into his shirt. The handkerchief had slipped down to his waist. He fished it out and tossed it to the man, who caught it with his left hand, weighed it in his palm, then stuck it in his pocket.
    “A pleasant journey to you both.” He kicked his heels into the flanks of his dark mount, tipped his hat, and galloped off in a thunder of hooves.
    Coffen and Corinne exchanged a frightened look, then drew a deep sigh of relief.
    “No point going after him,” Coffen said. “By the time I had a nag unharnessed, he’d be miles away.”
    “Let him go. It’s only money.” They picked up their hats and brushed the dirt from them.
    “Not much I could do, when the pistol was unloaded,” he said.
    “I’m glad you didn’t try anything foolishly heroic— but next time bring a loaded pistol. I wonder if he got Luten as well.”
    “No such luck. Not that I wish Luten ill, but there’s no denying a few knocks would do him the world of good.”
    While they talked, the groom and footman got up off the ground and came forward.
    “He just seemed to come from nowheres,” Fitz said apologetically. “I made sure we was safe once we got clear of the heath.”
    “It’s not your fault, Fitz,” Corinne said. “He didn’t harm you?”
    “No, milady. I picked up this rock ready to heave if he touched you.” He held out a largish rock.
    “That was well done,” she said. “We had best continue on our way before another of them comes along.” She glanced around the ground, but seeing no sign of the brooch, she left it there. They recovered their shoes and took