She entered a doorway and climbed the stairs. “Gerry,” she said to the man at the top—a burly young fellow who actually dragged off his cap, his eyes gleaming.
“Miss Connie.”
“Is she in?”
“Got someone with her, but just wait in the parlor. She won’t be long.”
The large youth opened the door, his gaze unfriendly as he subjected Solomon to a thorough visual search.
The hallway was not well lit, but it seemed to be clean. Constance led Solomon left into a gloomy parlor that looked onto a stone wall. But the room itself was packed with things in apparently haphazard order. Little jeweled boxes, elegant statuettes beside others that were clearly cheap junk. Glass and porcelain, silver cutlery, jewelry, and piles of lace and linen covered every available surface.
“What is all this stuff?” he asked, amused.
“Guess,” she said dryly. “Just don’t spread your answer around.”
Stolen goods…Was her mother a fence?
It seemed likely as a shady man walked past the door counting the coins in his palm. Beside him, a short, buxom lady dressed in startling purple with improbably blonde hair said playfully, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Course I do, Mrs. Jules, else I wouldn’t have come,” said the man hastily, and vanished along the hall to the door.
Presumably the burly lad at the door had communicated their presence to their hostess, for she sailed in, smiling, shrewd eyes gleaming in her plump, still-pretty face. If he looked hard, Solomon could see where Constance got her looks, though the younger woman was much more refined and slender in appearance.
“Connie, my pet!” the vision in purple exclaimed, opening her arms wide, though it was noticeable she dropped them again well before she came in reach of her daughter.
For her part, Constance said carelessly, “Hello, Juliet.”
Brows raised, her mother raked her with her eyes. “Changed your style, Con?” She let out a cackle of laughter. “Never tell me the reformers got you after all!”
“I have merely expanded and diversified my business, as you always taught me. I dress accordingly. This is my new business partner, Mr. Grey. Solomon, my mother, Mrs. Juliet Silver.”
“Well!” Juliet Silver exclaimed, looking him up and down as though she had only just noticed him—which was not the case. She had clearly clocked him the instant she entered the room. She offered him one plump, beringed hand. Some of the diamonds were real. “You’re lovely, dear, but you don’t look much like a pimp to me.”
“I daresay you don’t look much like a raddled old whore to him, either,” Constance said pleasantly.
With an effort, Solomon refrained from blinking. He couldn’t recall Constance ever being deliberately rude before. He bowed civilly over Juliet’s hand. She hadn’t batted an eyelid over her daughter’s insult, but her gaze on his was both speculative and admiring—though he doubted he could trust the latter.
“Mr. Grey was never in that kind of business,” Constance said.
“What is your business, sir?” Juliet asked.
“Right now, investigations,” Solomon replied.
Juliet’s eyes widened, though the smile stayed on her lips. “You don’t look like a peeler, neither. And if my Connie’s gone over to that side, I’ll eat my best hat.”
“Your headgear is safe, ma’am,” Solomon said. “Our investigations are for private clients.”
“Still sounds like snooping to me,” Juliet said frankly. “Which is just what I don’t hold with. I know I told you to get out of the game, Con, but if there’s one thing worse—”
“I’m not out of the game. I have added another string to my bow. What do you know of a man called Caleb Lambert, and his wife, Angela? They live in Westminster, behind Tothill Street.”
Juliet’s eyes flickered. “Enough to keep me out of his way. I’d advise you to do the same, though since you always do the opposite, I’ll advise Mr. Grey instead.”
“He’s a villain, then?” Solomon said with interest, even while he changed plans in his head. Constance wouldnotgo into that house in any guise. “In what line?”
“Don’t know if he’s that kind of villain,” Juliet said, ambling toward a tray of decanters and glasses on the dresser. “Or not now. More what you might call a ruthless businessman. Like you, I daresay.”
Constance snorted. “Then he stays within the law?”
