Page 50 of The Detective and the Baroness

“And your wife? Off on her appointment?”

“She is.”

“Well, let us in, Travis. As I told you, I don’t conduct business on the street.”

With a barely concealed grumble, Addington stepped aside to allow them to enter. Once in the hall, Addington pointed to the room on the left. “In there.”

Jedi glared at Travis with narrowed eyes. “This better not be a trap. If anything happens to me, I have men in place to see that you and that pretty wife of yours pay with your lives.”

“It’s not a trap. I want this transaction out of the way, and you and yours out of my life. I have decided to pay you twenty-five thousand pounds…if you sign a paper saying you relinquish all claims to the estate and will never come near me again.”

Cillian looked puzzled. “Relinquish?”

“Excuse my son. Not much of an education. It means surrender, abandon, withdraw, or retreat. Release.”

“Bugger that,” Cillian snorted.

“I’m inclined to agree with my son, but I can be reasonable on occasion. I’m genuinely hurt that you don’t want a family connection, Travis. I am deeply wounded.” Jedi gave the baron a counterfeit look of anguish.

“I doubt it.” Addington strolled into the room, and Jedi and his son followed. A fire blazed in the hearth. Bookcases lined the room’s perimeter, and an ornate desk stood at the front. A large portrait of a country setting by a lake was on the wall behind it.

“Where is the money?” Jedi snarled, growing impatient.

Addington stood behind the desk and pushed a large brown envelope toward him. “Sign this.”

“After I get the money.”

Addington opened the envelope, laid the paper on the desk, and pushed the ink set toward Jedi. “Sign first. I demand a show of trust. For this amount of money, I do not think it is too much to ask.”

Jedi cast a glance at Cillian, who gave him a questioning look. “I don’t sign anything without reading it.” Jedi sat in the chair before the desk, snatched the paper, and scanned the text. Jedi looked up from the document. “Who wrote this? Who else knows about this transaction?” Anger began to churn deep within Jedi. This was not the agreement they’d decided on. If there was one thing Jedi could not abide, it was dodgy dealings, especially with the snotty upper crust.

“My solicitor,” the baron said, sniffing arrogantly. “He knows about this meeting, so if anything happens to me, he will call the police immediately.”

This bloke was not as vacuous as Jedi had first surmised. No matter. Jedi dipped the pen into the ink bottle and scratched his name at the bottom of the document. Then he stood. “My end of the bargain is done; now do yours. And be quick about it.”

Addington turned to face the large painting, touched the bottom corner, and it opened like a door, revealing a wall safe. These toffs always had hidey holes to stash their valuables. Realizing that he’d soon land a large amount of money made Jedi slightly giddy—enough that he let down his guard for a moment.

Addington reached into the safe and twirled about, showing a revolver. Without hesitation, the baron pulled the trigger. At almost the same instant, Jedi was shoved out of the way by his son, who grabbed his side and collapsed to the ground. Addington froze, as if shocked. Every survival instinct Jedi possessed roared to the surface. He pulled out his pistol and fired twice at the dumbfounded bastard, who groaned, then crumpled to the floor.

Jedi stepped over the bleeding baron and inspected the safe. Empty, except for a small wad of pound notes. Jedi snatched them and shoved them in his coat pocket. That miserable bastard had had no intention of paying. He’d lured him here to kill him. Jedi glanced down at the man and spat on him, then shoved him hard with his boot. Dead—or close to it. Good riddance and all.

Best to escape. The neighbors had no doubt heard the commotion. Jedi grabbed the contract paper on the desk and headed toward the door. There was no use leaving any evidence around.

“Wait! Don’t leave me here!”

Speaking of evidence. His son.

Jedi came to stand before him. “Sorry, my boyo. As I told you before, it’s every man for himself. You should have remembered that. The coppers will be here soon. They will try to get you to help their investigation. No mentioning my name or anything else.” Jedi held up the paper. “And don’t mention this deal. You follow?”

Jedi didn’t wait for a reply; he was already out the door and down the hall, looking for the back entrance. Once he located it, he ran through the rear yard and onto the street. Leaving Cillian meant leaving behind a loose end. His criminal instincts said he should have put his son out of his misery and also protected his own hide, but for some strange reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Damn that baron to a fiery hell. By the looks of him, he was already halfway there. But Jedi couldn’t let this go. If the baron kicked off, there was more than one way to skin a cat. It may take careful planning, but he would get his money.

After all, there was always the pretty soon-to-be-a-widow baroness.

Chapter Nineteen

Mitchell strolled along the walkway with Corrine proudly on his arm. This would be the last time they spent alone, which filled his heart with sadness. He would miss the ease with which they conversed—and the potent attraction that grew stronger whenever they were close. There was so much Mitchell wanted to say and do, but Corrine had made it clear that as long as she was married, she could never—and he ultimately agreed.

“What do we do next?” Corrine asked, drawing closer to him. “I cannot believe Christmas is only ten days away. It does not feel like the holiday season with everything going on. I do not want to share a meal with my father or husband.”