A Study in Revenge by Kieran Shields

high piece of ground to be secured. Being by his side through his final breaths, she’d held the flank until her uncle could come to the rescue and bring his artillery to bear, save the day, and move on to the next conflict. She wanted to scream at him, shock him out of his ignorance, but she held back. Not now, not at this moment. This was to be a time of gratitude and treasuring the memory of her grandfather. She would not let Euripides’ narrow feelings and careless tongue mar this moment forever.
    “It was not my duty, Uncle,” Phebe said calmly.
    “What now?” Euripides turned back from where he’d just stepped out into the hallway.
    “It was my honor, my deepest pleasure—not a duty.”
    “Ahh,” was all that Euripides could be troubled to offer in return before he moved away down the hall.
    “Oh, don’t waste your thoughts on him,” Jason said. “This is one of the few times we can look on his rigid and methodical nature as a blessing. You can set your mind at ease and dwell on whatever brings you solace now. He’ll manage all the morbid details and see to it that the funeral goes off without a bump, in an efficient and proper manner.”
    “Is that supposed to bring me solace? A true and fitting farewell for someone you love ought to be more than efficient and proper. A hell of a lot more, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
    Jason nodded. “I don’t think I mind one bit.”

[  Chapter 11  ]
    A FTER CROSSING BACK INTO B OSTON, THE DETECTIVES paused for a light snack at a café near the Public Gardens. Grey explained that they were not scheduled to arrive at their stop, the intersection of Commonwealth Avenue and West Chester Park, for another hour yet. During the leisurely break, the three men discussed a plan of action to investigate the possible presence of Chester Sears at the Tremont House either today or in the recent past. All three of them would monitor the hotel lobby and rear entrances that evening. McCutcheon, who would be in charge of procuring whatever information could be purchased from the desk clerks or bellhops, was eager to begin his efforts.
    “Shouldn’t at least one of us monitor the Horsford residence?” Lean asked. “That address was on the note along with today’s date.”
    Grey shook his head. “Those two items of information were written in different hands. It would be a mistake to read them in unison. Besides, the window to Professor Horsford’s study had been forced. I suspect that Sears has already been there. It’s just not clear what he was searching for and whether he found it. No, our best chance of catching the man is at the Tremont House.”
    Upon stuffing one final morsel into his mouth, thus completing his successful conquest of the lion’s share of the food at the table, McCutcheon bade them adieu and good hunting. Grey entered into a contemplative mood, which only amplified Lean’s restlessness. He suspected that Grey was secretly enjoying the impatience he caused by not revealing who or what awaited them at their next appointment. Rather than give him any further enjoyment in the matter, Lean turned his attention to the picturesque view of the gardens’ ornamental flower beds.
    As the time neared, the two men made their way to the western edgeof the gardens, where the central pathway met the Arlington Street entrance. At the eastern terminus of Commonwealth Avenue, they engaged a four-wheeler to transport them the mile length to their destination at the Back Bay Park. The driver of the carriage, an older fellow with rosy cheeks and a glint in his eye that hinted at an affection for a midday nip or two, welcomed them aboard.
    “Down to the fens, is it? You know for just a slight bit on top, I’d gladly brighten your trip with a mention of all the wonderful points of interest along the route.”
    Just as Grey was preparing to decline the offer, Lean handed over twenty-five cents, garnering a somewhat toothless smile from the driver.
    “Small price