Author: Kit Walker
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The Impounded Tiger
A security door marked the divide between the waiting room and the staff-only areas of the building; beyond it lay a maze of white-painted cinder block hallways, lined with animal pens. There was a dedicated wing for cats, another for dogs, and so on—but what drew Sebastian’s attention was the one marked “Dangerous Animals.”
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You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man
Derek Chapman was having an awful evening. He’d won a few seconds of the host’s time upon his arrival, but that had ended quickly as Clarke turned his attention toward the next guest to arrive. Now Chapman wandered the parlour, wine glass in hand, hovering at the edge of one conversation for a few minutes before moving on to the next. The other guests barely noticed him.
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Breaking and Entering
Instinct jolted him to full awareness, while years of military training had him reaching for the knife he’d stashed beneath the mattress—a nine-inch Bowie knife which was fantastically illegal to carry on the streets and therefore had to be kept in the house. Creeping silently through the flat to his front door, knife tucked close to his forearm in a reverse grip, he put his eye to the peephole.
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Six Weeks Later
The producers of Midnight Force: Sunset on the Sands had booked the Marigold Cinema for the film’s UK debut. It was a small, independent movie theatre in Soho that’d been around since the turn of the last century, its facade an eclectic mix of classical architecture and gaudy neon.
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Where We Left Off
Jay clutched Sebastian’s hand, fingers laced tightly together, as he all but dragged the man back to his flat. Sebastian was more than happy to comply; the moment they were inside, he pulled Jay in for another long, heated kiss.
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The Blow-Off
A cab dropped Sir James Walter off at Heathrow’s charter terminal. A private jet waited for him on the tarmac, ready to fly him to Tenerife. His brisk walk to the plane was interrupted by the sound of someone shouting.
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The Hook
Walter fumbled for the door handle and staggered from the car. The front tire was a shredded mess of rubber, the grille dented from the car’s collision with a streetlamp. Sunlight glinted off something above. In a window overlooking the street, just barely visible between the curtains, was the sleek, dark shape of a rifle.
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The Set-Up
Jay glared up at him, and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. He’d held a knife to this man’s throat not half an hour ago, and yet he had the brass not only to order Sebastian around, but to sass him in the process.
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Moriarty
Arthur Cadogan West, executive assistant, was accustomed to running errands with his employers after-hours. But Arthur Cadogan West was an identity that had been constructed only two weeks ago. Jay Moriarty, the man who’d constructed it, was about ready to stab his temporary “boss.”
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Moran
Sir James Walter, CEO of Bruce-Partington Aerospace, arrived at the Bagatelle Club around 8:30 in the evening—half an hour late. In that half-hour, Sebastian Moran had successfully cheated the Bagatelle’s poker group out of nearly £600.