The Perfect Poison by Amanda Quick

behind her desk and more or less collapsed into her chair, still trying to catch her breath and slow her pulse. “Obviously the, er, excess stimulation you experienced a short time ago was inspired by some clue I must have unwittingly provided you. I trust that bodes well for the investigation.”
    For a few unsettling seconds he did not move. He stood there gazing down at her as though she were some heretofore unknown specimen that he had encountered in Mr. Darwin’s study.
    Just when she thought she could not endure the scrutiny any longer, he turned toward the French doors and contemplated the massed greenery on the other side.
    “A very insightful observation, Miss Bromley,” he said. “You did, indeed, provide me with a clue. I have been searching for a connection like this for damn near two months.”
    She clasped her hands again on top of the desk and tried to bring some order to her scattered senses. It seemed to her that she could still feel sensual energy swirling in the room. Clearly the kiss had overstimulated her imagination.
    “This has something to do with a person named Basil Hulsey?” she asked.
    “I am certain of it. But just to be sure, would you describe the man you knew as Knox?”
    “He was smallish. Quite bald. Rather unkempt and disheveled. I remember that his shirt was stained with chemicals. He wore glasses.” She hesitated. “There was something spindly about him.”
    “Spindly?”
    “He reminded me of a very large insect.”
    “That certainly matches the description I was given.” Satisfaction underscored the words.
    “I would appreciate an explanation, Mr. Jones,” she said.
    Caleb turned to face her. Every aspect of his countenance and posture was once again coldly composed and resolute. But she sensed the anticipation of the hunter just beneath the surface.
    “It’s a long story,” he said. “I do not have time to go into all the details. Suffice it to say that approximately two months ago an infernally brilliant and psychically gifted scientist named Dr. Basil Hulsey caused the Society a great deal of trouble. Murder was involved. Perhaps you read the reports of the Midnight Monster in the press?”
    “Yes, of course. Everyone in London followed that dreadful case in the papers. It was such a relief when news came of the Monster’s death.” She paused, searching her memory. “But I do not recall any mention of a Dr. Hulsey.”
    “The situation was decidedly more complicated than either the press or Scotland Yard realized. You must trust me when I tell you that Hulsey was involved. Unfortunately he fled before he could be apprehended. I have been searching for him but the trail had gone cold. Until now.”
    “Surely finding Hulsey is a job for the police.”
    “There is no point turning the case over to the authorities until I find the bastard and some evidence of his crimes,” Caleb said. “But even when I do track him down, it may not be possible to secure the sort of proof that will stand up in a court of law.”
    “In that case, what on earth will you do?” she asked, bewildered.
    Caleb looked at her with no trace of emotion. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
    Another shiver went through her. This time the sensation had nothing whatsoever to do with passion. She decided it would be best not to press Caleb on the subject of his plans for dealing with Hulsey. That was Arcane Society business. She had her own problems. Probably best to change the subject.
    “Why would this Dr. Hulsey steal my fern?” she asked.
    “It is just the sort of specimen that would interest him. Hulsey’s expertise is dream research. Some time ago he concocted a potion that induced lethal nightmares. Most of his victims died.”
    She shuddered. “How dreadful.”
    “After Hulsey vanished, I discovered some of his notebooks. It is clear that he has been fascinated with dreams for some time. He is convinced that in the dream state the veil between the normal and the