Shanghai Sparrow Read Online Free Page A

that would have risked the device being destroyed, and he could not have that.
    Lathrop must have had other family, close relatives... someone must have the ability, and he would find them.
    He would have to be careful. There could be no missteps. He would keep his thoughts and the possibilities to himself for now, and use his own resources, rather than those of the Department. He had the Empire’s best interests at heart, after all. Why should he risk someone else taking the credit? It had happened more than once, in the course of his career. He was determined it should not happen again.

 
    London
     
     
    B IRDS WERE SINGING and the deep red wallflowers in the little private park smelled like warm cake. Eveline hung over the railing for a moment, sniffing, and caught something out of the corner of her eye.
    It was him. The cove in the grey coat. She was sure of it. Carefully, keeping her head still as though admiring a flowering tree just ahead of her, she peered from the corner of her eye until her sockets ached.
    There he was. Watching her. He hadn’t been around while she was scoping the house, she was sure of it... but he was there now.
    If she hadn’t seen him before, she wouldn’t have made much of it. But she had, a day or so back. A good-looking cove with neat small features and unusual, pale gold skin; a few shades paler than the Indian man with the splendid embroidered coats, who sometimes came to see Ma and always smelled so deliciously of spices Evvie was near tempted to take a bite out of him. There was something faintly reminiscent about his colouring, too, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
    It was definitely him, the same man she’d seen last time she was down on the docks. She called up every swear-word she knew – an impressive number – under her breath.
    A peeler? If he was, why hadn’t he arrested her already? Though what for, she didn’t know, she hadn’t so much as dipped a pocket all morning. Maybe he was one of those detective sorts, like that Whicher, that everyone spoke of under their breath as though they were wizards or ghosts, hovering there waiting for her to make a step wrong?
    Could he be someone Ma Pether had sent, to keep an eye on her, see she was doing as she was told? In that case she’d be in for it, if he’d seen her come out of the house. Did Ma still trust her that little? She felt a jab of irritation. All right, so she’d gone against Ma’s instructions, but she’d got to know far more than she would have otherwise! She even knew which cupboard the silver was kept in and where the key was, which would save a deal of time and noise!
    Well, either way there was one thing for it, she’d have to give him the slip, and she could decide what to do once she was back at Ma’s.
     
     
    H OLMFORTH WATCHED THE girl. Nothing but a skinny urchin. A shuffle to her step and a lack of proportion between feet and legs suggested her shoes were too big. The only thing about her that was even slightly remarkable was the unmistakable sharpness with which she scanned her surroundings, wary as a bird in a garden full of cats. A plain, nervy little Cockney sparrow.
    He felt a moment’s black, swamping doubt. What if he was wrong? What if the talent had died with Lathrop? None of his enquiries about the younger sister had been in the least successful; it had to be presumed that she, too, was dead.
    As her glance moved his way, Holmforth withdrew behind the wall. He was sure, now, that it was her: he had obtained an old portrait from Lathrop’s former household, and the girl was growing into a likeness of the mother. Finding her had taken months; months in which he had spent an inordinate amount of silver, both in London and in Shanghai, trying to move things forward in the one and hold them back in the other.
    He had visited Lathrop’s home, and there he had had his first stroke of luck. The former servants were still in place, awaiting the confirmation of a male heir. The