One: A Most Intriguing Case

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724 DRURY LANE, LONDON

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724 DRURY LANE, LONDON


"Besh! Besh! Kappi, besh!"

St. George sighed to himself as he walked up the stairs to his closest friend's quarters, the thick Romani accent shouting in that spellbinding language.

A pretty woman appeared with blond hair pinned neatly under her bonnet. She walked briskly out of the flat as her rich lavender skirts swayed along with her haste. Her sharp-featured face was red, flustered, and pulled tight in distraught.

St. George put on his charming smile and the woman stopped abruptly before him. Her big brown eyes widened, recognition flashing in them. Her face reddened even more as she put her gloved hand over her chest. Her narrowed, sloping shoulders stiffened and she gave a harsh swallow.

"I beg your pardon, My Lord." She curtsied, and St. George bowed.

"Why in such a hurry, Miss?"

"Daviess, My Lord." She replied shyly. "Kathleen Daviess."

He stepped up the stairs until he was at eye level with her. "What is the problem, Miss Daviess?"

She fidgeted with her covered fingers and jumped when a loud crash was heard along with broken glass, followed by boisterous Romani curses.

St. George didn't even flinch. "I take it you are here to gather assistance on a matter."

She nodded.

He gave her a flirtatious wink. "Mind coming back up with me?" He stretched out his arm and she gladly took it, looking up at him with shining eyes. He had an effect on women and this one was no different. She easily melted and relaxed as he guided her back up the steps. "Now, stay put while I go take care of this mess. I'll be back as soon as I'm able."

He gripped her hand and kissed it, causing her to flush and her pretty mouth to slacken. So innocent, he thought to himself. He was a known rake, and she was easy prey but before that...

She was Nicu's client.

He parted with her and entered the chaotic quarters, closing the door behind him. The usually somewhat organized place was an atrocious mess with papers everywhere, broken shards, and torn furniture. The cause was a grey and black blur of fur that now was scampering around in glee.

For a minute, St. George swore he saw something shine in the little vermin's front paws, but he was unable to examine it further because the little beast darted away.

"Kappi! I'm going to gut you and make coon stew out of you." St. George turned at the sound of a very agitated Roma. Nothing was worse than dealing with Nicu's eccentricity... except that of his temper. His longtime friend popped out from behind a large settee as the imported raccoon from the States, sat on it.

If there was any man in the world that could catch nature's most elusive bandit off guard, it would be Nicu. The raccoon had been outmatched as its owner wrapped his big weather-beaten hands around the rodent.

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