Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence 1)

‘Do I look afraid to you?’

‘No,’ he admitted. ‘You look superfluous. Leave the room. I and my men have a thief to catch.’ He nodded to the door and returned to his work of rifling through the desk, as if I had already left, or as if I had ceased to exist entirely. That, I was sure, was how he would have preferred things.

Crossing my arms, I planted myself in front of him.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘I give you the rest of the day off,’ he said, not looking at me. ‘Go and enjoy your holiday. Trust me when I say I do not give holidays often.’

‘With me it seems that is almost the only thing you do! I did not come here to juggle meaningless pieces of paper like a monkey trained for some circus and then be chucked out after half a day. I came here to work! And if you have a thief to catch, I will come with you!’

‘Just for your information,’ he said, ‘the pieces of paper that you have “juggled” as you put it have most certainly not been meaningless.’

He still didn’t bother to turn around and look at me. All I could do was send my furious glares at his broad, hard back, and that did nothing to calm me down.

‘They all pertain to my business in a very real way,’ he continued. ‘And you are nothing whatsoever like a circus monkey. A monkey wouldn’t talk back at me.’

‘But it might bite!’

‘I’m not sure I wouldn’t prefer that.’

‘Is that so?’ I took an involuntary step towards him. ‘Well, I could try if you wished.’

His neck muscles tensed. ‘No need to put yourself to trouble. Go home. That is an order.’

‘No!’ I stamped my foot. I didn’t care if I made a spectacle of myself. He was going to accept me whether he wanted to or not.

‘You cannot refuse to go home if I send you away.’ I wouldn’t have believed his voice could grow colder than it already was. But he was reaching new heights of vocal deep-freezing. ‘You work for me.’

‘Exactly.’ I nodded. ‘I work for you. And just as I could protest if you were to keep me at work longer than the normal hours, I have the right to protest if you send me away early. You accepted my work in exchange for a salary, Mr Ambrose, and I intend to earn that salary. I will not accept charity from anyone, and most certainly not from you.’

He looked up then and met my gaze again. Had something in my little speech actually managed to capture his attention?

There was something in his eyes as he looked at me… Something different from before. It was intense - but I had no idea what it was.

‘You are wasting my time,’ he said. But his voice wasn’t quite as hard and immovable as just a second ago. ‘I need to catch Simmons.’

‘Then let me help,’ I pleaded.

Instead of answering, he returned to rummaging through the last drawer. Slamming it shut, he turned to Karim, who stood waiting at the entrance to the safe.

‘Nothing here. Get the men here. The entire team. Tell Warren to go over this place with a fine-tooth comb. Anything he finds, and I mean anything, is to be brought to me immediately, understood?’

‘Yes, Sahib.’

‘Why not just tell the police about this?’ I dared to interject.

‘Because I do not want this business in tomorrow’s newspapers,’ was the curt reply. ‘And because if we find the thief, they will get in my way.’

I had to swallow. Taking into account his recent threats towards yours truly, I could only imagine too well what he meant by that.

‘So what now?’ I asked.

‘Now you will go home.’

‘No. I will not!’

Karim, who had been striding towards the door to embark on his errand, hesitated there. ‘Do you truly wish me to leave you alone with her, Sahib?’