Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

My grin widened, and I held the letter closer to my face, just in case the grin was so broad it peeked out at either end. ‘Why what, Sir?’

‘Don’t play dumb with me! Why were you arrested?’

‘Oh…’ I tugged at my ear thoughtfully. ‘I don’t remember, exactly…’

‘Theft? Manslaughter?’

‘My, my, you do think rather highly of me, don’t you, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’

‘Answer the question, Mr Linton!’

‘Well, as I said, I don’t remember exactly, but one of the accusations was disturbing the Queen’s peace, I believe.’

I heard a sigh from beyond the letter. ‘Oh. Well, that is not so ba-’

‘Oh, and yes!’ I snapped my fingers. ‘The other was indecent exposure.’

From beyond the letter, I heard a gagging noise. ‘Indecent…. Mr Linton?’

‘Yes, Sir?’ I managed to say without keeling over from silent laughter. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘What did you do?’

‘Why, I just took these letters out of the desk, and now I’m looking through them, just like every morning. There’s one from the Bank of England, and one from-’

‘Mr Linton!’

‘Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’

‘Are you toying with me?’

‘I wouldn’t dare, Sir.’

‘Then tell me: What did you do to get arrested? What did you do to get accused of…something like that?’

I shrugged. ‘Nothing really special. I just climbed up the stairs of St Paul’s Cathedral and showed my naked butt to passers-by, that’s all.’

The noise that now came from the direction of Mr Ambrose could definitely not be described as gagging. Oh no. Not unless you’d want to apply the adjective ‘gagging’ to the growl of a lion.

‘Mr Linton?’

‘Yes, Sir, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’

‘Are you trying to make fun of me?’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.’

‘But reality is another matter, I presume.’

‘I don’t know what you could possibly mean, Mr Ambrose, Sir.’

‘Of course not, Mr Linton.’

There was another moment of Silence - Mr Ambrose’s silence. Then, his footsteps started to move away. I peeked out from behind my letter and saw him pulling open the door to his office. Just before he vanished into his hermitage, he paused. The sight of his tall, lean black figure against the fiery morning light streaming in through the window did things to me, deep inside.

‘When you are done with those letters, Mr Linton, come into my office. I have work for you.’

The door slammed shut behind him.