collared. When one of them tried to turn the tables by blackmailing, he had beaten the man half to death. His only regret was that he hadn’t completed the other half of the beating because the bastard was able to tell a doctor who he’d been smacked by and why.
If only he had kept his temper down and dumped his wife long ago, but he fell hard for her beauty and that she was an actress. He never understood why she married him, nor did anyone else. He was big and burly, with a face that had been bashed into too many times over fights he started; while she was delicate, like a china doll. She had manners, he had none.
He knew the other coppers were jealous of his gorgeous wife and expensive habits. They constantly were asking him how he did it—with every one of the bastards knowing and not a few of them also on the take.
The money he always had jangling in his pockets aside, he knew he had also made enemies on the force because of his temper. His way of solving anything, right or wrong, was to punch hard. Talking didn’t get you anywhere, at least that’s what he learned from his dad, who used his fists more than once on Archer until Archer got big enough to give tit-for-tat.
In his mind, no one on the force cared that he was taking bribes because others were on the take, too. They just remembered how many times he pushed his way in to get what he wanted. Ratting him out was their way of getting even.
Now he’s answering to a wealthy aristocrat who’s a lot more corrupt than him. No one made millions of quid in business without doing things under the table that would make a bank robber look like a saint.
He had come into contact with the rich man when he was still on the force. Soon after he was promoted to junior detective, the man’s teenage son was being investigated for beating another boy severely over a girl. The father slipped Archer some money and the case got dumped.
Now the man has another problem, a problem the police couldn’t handle. “You’ll be my consulting detective,” is what he told Archer.
Archer didn’t care about his title; all he cared about was the money. He was sick and tired of being poor. And he wanted revenge, the kind he’d get when he looked up his ex-wife and made her green with envy with his pockets full of money. He’ll shove money in her face. Then to really make her mad, he’ll lavish it on another actress she knows. He’s not worried about who he’ll get, all actresses are sluts and will do anything for money. She did.
This book the American woman found in the dead girl’s room will be his ticket back to the good life. He knows something valuable is in it, information that will make him a wealthy man. And if that aristocratic pig who hired him thinks he is just going to simply turn it over to him for a few lousy quid—he’s in for a big surprise.
But first he has to get it from the woman.
Being the man he is, asking her for it politely isn’t in the cards.
13
Blue-eyed brother? I mulled over what Hailey’s landlady told me. With a British accent, no less. Now who in the devil is he? The elusive lover? Why he would want access to Hailey’s room is the one thing about him I’m certain about. He wants the diary because there is something in it that will expose him as her lover. And I have the damning evidence.
“ Wha—! ” pops out of my mouth as a man comes up from behind me, grabs my purse, and takes off like a bat out of hell.
“ Help! Help! He has my purse! ” I yell at the top of my lungs as I give chase. There is no one else in sight on this gray wet day.
I only get a glance of him, but I’m positive it’s the man who made the mad dash to get on the trolley near Hailey’s office and got off with me at her boardinghouse.
His head goes down and I get the impression he’s opening my purse. I try to increase my speed but my long dress, ridiculous petticoats, and bulky high-topped heeled shoes that encase a woman work against me
If only he had kept his temper down and dumped his wife long ago, but he fell hard for her beauty and that she was an actress. He never understood why she married him, nor did anyone else. He was big and burly, with a face that had been bashed into too many times over fights he started; while she was delicate, like a china doll. She had manners, he had none.
He knew the other coppers were jealous of his gorgeous wife and expensive habits. They constantly were asking him how he did it—with every one of the bastards knowing and not a few of them also on the take.
The money he always had jangling in his pockets aside, he knew he had also made enemies on the force because of his temper. His way of solving anything, right or wrong, was to punch hard. Talking didn’t get you anywhere, at least that’s what he learned from his dad, who used his fists more than once on Archer until Archer got big enough to give tit-for-tat.
In his mind, no one on the force cared that he was taking bribes because others were on the take, too. They just remembered how many times he pushed his way in to get what he wanted. Ratting him out was their way of getting even.
Now he’s answering to a wealthy aristocrat who’s a lot more corrupt than him. No one made millions of quid in business without doing things under the table that would make a bank robber look like a saint.
He had come into contact with the rich man when he was still on the force. Soon after he was promoted to junior detective, the man’s teenage son was being investigated for beating another boy severely over a girl. The father slipped Archer some money and the case got dumped.
Now the man has another problem, a problem the police couldn’t handle. “You’ll be my consulting detective,” is what he told Archer.
Archer didn’t care about his title; all he cared about was the money. He was sick and tired of being poor. And he wanted revenge, the kind he’d get when he looked up his ex-wife and made her green with envy with his pockets full of money. He’ll shove money in her face. Then to really make her mad, he’ll lavish it on another actress she knows. He’s not worried about who he’ll get, all actresses are sluts and will do anything for money. She did.
This book the American woman found in the dead girl’s room will be his ticket back to the good life. He knows something valuable is in it, information that will make him a wealthy man. And if that aristocratic pig who hired him thinks he is just going to simply turn it over to him for a few lousy quid—he’s in for a big surprise.
But first he has to get it from the woman.
Being the man he is, asking her for it politely isn’t in the cards.
13
Blue-eyed brother? I mulled over what Hailey’s landlady told me. With a British accent, no less. Now who in the devil is he? The elusive lover? Why he would want access to Hailey’s room is the one thing about him I’m certain about. He wants the diary because there is something in it that will expose him as her lover. And I have the damning evidence.
“ Wha—! ” pops out of my mouth as a man comes up from behind me, grabs my purse, and takes off like a bat out of hell.
“ Help! Help! He has my purse! ” I yell at the top of my lungs as I give chase. There is no one else in sight on this gray wet day.
I only get a glance of him, but I’m positive it’s the man who made the mad dash to get on the trolley near Hailey’s office and got off with me at her boardinghouse.
His head goes down and I get the impression he’s opening my purse. I try to increase my speed but my long dress, ridiculous petticoats, and bulky high-topped heeled shoes that encase a woman work against me
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