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William let out a chuckle. “You truly do not think that I would knock and wait on your doorstep for you, did you? People on your street really do not like me.”
Ford raised a brow. “Does anybody like you?”
William frowned in thought for a brief moment before pursing his lips. “Touché.”
“Tell me one reason why I shouldn’t arrest you right now?”
William shrugged. “You have nothing against me.”
“You want to wager on that?”
William scoffed. “You’ll lose, Gunning. And you know it.”
Ford scrubbed his face with his hands. “What do you want, William? You are not welcome here.”
“I was hoping for a friendly chat first. Perhaps an offer of a glass of whisky?”
“William,” Gunning growled in warning.
“Perhaps not. I presume you know about the murders of the aristocrats in town?”
Gunning scoffed. “You presume right.” Then he let out a sigh, took the candle off the sconce, and tilted his head. “Come.”
They went into a small, cramped room that probably served the purpose of a study, although it reminded William of an abandoned scriptorium. Gunning placed the candle on the table and proceeded to rummage through the clutter until he took out a half-filled bottle of whisky and an empty tumbler with a satisfied look on his face. He quickly filled the glass to the brim with the amber liquid and settled in the chair.
“None for your guest?” William asked, settling across from him.
“You are not a guest. You are a trespasser,” Gunning countered, then took a long sip, grimacing as the burning liquid passed down his throat.
“Any idea who’s going around killing toffs?” William asked after Gunning slammed the glass onto the table.
The thief-taker raised a brow. “I have an idea.”
William let out a chuckle. “Let me guess, me?”
He nodded. “You.”
“I have to admit, I am quite flattered.”
“That I think you’re a murderer?”
“No. That you think I’d have the gall to come straight to you for help if I were a murderer.”
“You never lacked the gall, William,” Gunning said before resting his arms against his desk and leaning closer to William as he watched him from between his squinting eyes. “You came here to ask for help?”
“Now, now. No need to become all giddy. It’s not for me.”
Gunning leaned back and took another sip of his whisky. “For whom then?”
“It’s really in bad form to drink whisky, while I thirst away—”
“For whom, William?”
William leaned back in his chair. “Have you heard of the House of Pain and Pleasure?”
Gunning snorted. “The owner is number two on my list of suspects.”
Well, that complicated things.
