Anne Perry's Christmas Vigil by Anne Perry

her how Bertha sounded, what she looked like.
    â€œAnd so you went looking for Minnie Maude?” he said when she had finished. “Where?”
    â€œI thought as she must ’ave remembered summink,” she replied, breathing in the smell of the crisp toast. “Or understood summink wot didn’t make no sense two days ago.”
    â€œI see.” He took the toast off and spread a little butter on it, then jam with big black fruit in it. He put it on a plate, cut it in half, and passed it to her.
    â€œIs that all for me?” Then she could have kicked herself for her bad manners. She wanted to push the plate away again, but that would have been rude too, and the toast was making her mouth water.
    â€œOf course it is,” he replied. “I shall be hurt ifyou don’t eat it. The tea will be ready in a minute. What did she realize, Gracie?”
    â€œWell, we knew Alf went the wrong way,” she said, picking up a piece of the toast and biting into it. It was wonderful, crisp, and the jam was sweet. She couldn’t help herself from swallowing it and taking another bite.
    â€œThe wrong way?” he prompted.
    She answered with her mouth full. “Jimmy Quick always goes round ’is streets in one way. Uncle Alf went the other way. ’E started at the end, an’ did it backward, so ’e were always everywhere at the wrong time.” She leaned forward eagerly. “That were when ’e picked up the casket, nobody were expectin’ ’im even ter be there. It were put fer someone else!”
    â€œI see.” The kettle started to whistle with steam, and Balthasar stood up and made the tea. “Do you know why he did that?”
    â€œNo.” Now she wondered why she didn’t know, and she felt stupid for not thinking of it.
    â€œI shall inquire,” he replied. “If something caused him to, such as a carriage accident blocking a road, or a dray spilling its load so he could not get past, that might be different from his deliberately choosing the other way around. Presumably this man, the toff, went to collect the casket, and found that it was gone. How did he know that the rag and bone man had taken it?” He put up his hand. “No, no need to answer that—because all the stuff for the rag and bone collection was gone. But he caught up with poor Alf—so if Alf was going the wrong way round, how did the toff know that?” He brought the teapot to the table and poured a large mug full for her. He passed the mug across, his black eyes studying her face.
    â€œI dunno,” she said unhappily. “D’yer think as ’e worked it out? I mean that Alf ’ad gone the wrong way round?”
    â€œHow did he know it was Alf, and not Jimmy Quick, as usual?” Balthasar asked. “No, I ratherthink he was waiting and watching, and he saw what happened.”
    â€œThen why di’n’t ’e go after ’im straigh’away?” Gracie asked reasonably. “In fact, if the casket were left there for ’im, why di’n’t ’e take it before Alf even got there? That don’t make no sense.”
    Balthasar frowned, biting his lip. “It would if he did not wish to be seen. Whoever left it there for him would know what was in it, and that it was both valuable and dangerous. It might be that the toff could not afford to have anyone see him with it.”
    Gracie gulped. “Wot were in it?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I imagine something like opium.”
    â€œWozzat?” she asked.
    â€œA powder that gives people insane dreams of pleasure,” he replied. “And when they wake up, it is all gone, and so they have to have more, to get the dreams back again. Sometimes they will pay a great price, even kill other people, to get it. But itis not something to be proud of, in fact very much the opposite. If the toff is an addict, which means that he can no longer do without it,