Read Die I Will Not for Free Online

sir.”
    â€œYou have recovered my property?” The linen-draper Scoldwell wore a neat, black suit and an unhappy expression, clearly knowing himself to be out of place in the taproom’s low company. Old age had rounded his shoulders and carved lines of weariness around his mouth. He moved with hesitant steps, leaning for support on a cane decorated with a roaring lion’s head.
    Farley spread the wares on the table for him. “Yours?”
    Scoldwell ran one finger down the material. “Yes, this is my property. Where is the thief?”
    With a quelling glance at the ever-helpful boy who looked about eagerly, Chase said, “Have a look, sir, and see if you spot him.”
    The linen-draper’s eyes traveled around the crowded taproom. Voices clamored, glasses jingled, and loud laughter rang out as he made his careful inspection. After a moment he lifted one bony finger. “There, sitting at that table.”
    â€œThat’s it then. I’m off to play nursemaid at the Theatre Royal,” said Farley. He motioned to the landlord, who was watching with a complacent eye as the drama unfolded. The Runners were his regular customers. Though plans were afoot to expand Bow Street’s premises across the way, the public office had long suffered from a lack of space. As a result, the Runners often used the tavern to conduct their business, stow stolen goods, and hold prisoners temporarily. This thief would remain in lockup at the Brown Bear until he could be brought before a magistrate.
    After dismissing the prosecutor with instructions to appear in court the next day, and seeing the prisoner disposed in his cell, Chase and Farley were ready to depart.
    Farley pointed across the room. “Gander’s waving at you. You mean to speak to him?”
    â€œNot if I can help it. I’m going home.”
    The journalist cut him off at the door. “A word with you, Mr. Chase? I wouldn’t be so hasty. I might have something to say for your profit, a private matter.”
    â€œYou mean a private matter between me, you, and your legion of readers.”
    â€œNo, no. Let me buy you a drink, Chase. You’ll want to hear the news of your friend Mrs. Wolfe.”
    Chase lifted the journalist by the shoulders and propped him against the wall. “Mrs. Wolfe had better not appear in one of your paragraphs, Gander. Do you understand me?”
    Gander blinked back, alarm making his body go rigid and his booted feet twitch against the wainscoting. “No need to take me up like that, sir. I thought you’d want to know she might be in a bit of a fret. Friendly intentions, I assure you.”
    â€œYou will explain yourself.” Chase set Gander down, gently, and strode to his corner table without looking to see whether the journalist followed. A man who had appropriated Chase’s seat took one look at him and scurried away.
    Joining him, Gander made eye contact with the barmaid, held up two fingers, and contemplated Chase, his good humor restored. “Perhaps I can sweeten your temper, sir. What would you say to a job? For the usual fee, of course.”
    Chase just looked at him and waited. After reflectively smoothing his collar and taking several long pulls from the tankard the barmaid set in front of him, Gander said, “I want you to look into a bit of havey-cavey business I chanced upon just before the curtain descended on an interesting scene. I’m sure you’ve noted, and given due honor, to my humble contributions in the London Daily Intelligencer ? Last night I stopped to have a word with an editor fellow there by the name of Leach, but he was suddenly taken ill. Bundled off home, no questions asked. Deuced odd, all the way around.”
    â€œWhy odd?”
    â€œHe’d run out of the building before he swooned. I arrived to see our porter practically carrying the poor fellow to a hack, and there was Leach waving his arms to keep everyone at bay. I