Victorian Dream Read Free Page B

dock and into the sea.
    In bizarre contrast to the grisly scene, flowers lay gaily strewn about. The murderous crate, bound for Queen Victoria’s private garden, had contained a quarter ton of Vermont rose plants, all in full bloom, their pearly white petals spattered with blood. As if they were to blame, he crushed a pile underfoot and kicked them aside. How the hell could this have happened? Kneeling beside the couple’s unmoving forms, he blocked the wind blowing with cruel disregard for circumstance.
    “Give me your coats,” he snarled, at the bystanders, rage replacing shock. “And find Seaman Barkley,” he added, catching the eye of one of his men.
    He covered Ophelia’s trembling body with the cloaks and jackets tossed in his direction. A dark-suited man carrying a reticule made his way through the crowd and crouched down at his side.
    “They might live,” he declared, with rather feeble enthusiasm as he finished his initial examination. “Bad luck them being struck down like that,” he observed, binding their most grievous wounds in preparation for transport to hospital.
    “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Walker growled.
    Why had Seaman Barkley ignored his order to remove and secure the crate? He damn well better have a good excuse for not following orders. As his anger flared anew, a saber of guilt slashed through him as well. He should have taken it upon himself to make sure the crate was properly off-loaded.
    The doctor gained his feet and motioned for the stretcher-bearers now on the scene. “I’ll know more regarding their condition once I’ve check them over thoroughly.”
    “Thank you for coming,” Walker acknowledged. “However, I wish my friends to go to the New Hope clinic, not New Bedford General. I would be grateful if you would accompany them in transit. When you arrive, ask for a Dr. Nathan Robinson. Tell him Walker Garrison sent you. He’ll take over from there.”
    Discharged so quickly, the doctor appeared miffed, frowning he held his ground. Walker pressed two silver dollars into the man’s hand.
    “If this doesn’t compensate for your expenses,” he reassured, “prepare a statement, and I’ll see you are paid in full.”
    With a nod, and a more cooperative expression, the physician left with his patients.
    ****
    The police inspector glanced around the dock. “Well, Captain Garrison, I must agree it appears to have been an intentional act. Most likely this missing seaman of yours was involved. Been having troubles with him? Seems odd him suddenly disappearing.”
    Walker shook his head. “I can’t believe he would be party to anything of this magnitude. He’s been with me for nearly two years. A fine dependable man, married with four children. It just doesn’t figure.”
    “And you’ve no reason to think anyone would want to hurt you, or stymie your business.”
    “No,” he answered, without consideration. Then he recalled the boy who had interrupted him during the ceremony. If not for the lad, he would have been standing directly beneath the falling cargo crate. Perhaps he was the intended target, the St.Christophers only unfortunate bystanders.
    While the inspector busied himself elsewhere, Walker studied the neatly severed rope attached to the overhead beam. Unnoticed, some sonofabitch had stood right here and sliced it through, nice as you please. And that tiny action had changed several lives forever—including his own.
    A discoloration on the rough hemp caught his attention. It resembled tar or resin. He touched the pliable matter, rubbed it between thumb and forefinger, then gingerly sniffed it. He even went so far as to taste it. Chocolate, by heaven, how curious.
    He searched the ground, his gaze following the direction of the wind. Several shiny objects had blown into a crevice in the planking. He retrieved the small misshapen foil balls and uncurled one. The inside was coated with the same brown candy smeared on the rope. The outside read; Chocolates