The Bughouse Affair: A Carpenter and Quincannon Mystery (27 page)

Not that having dinner with him tonight meant she’d changed her mind about their relationship. But there was no harm in giving in to a minor temptation. But it was there that she drew the line and would continue to draw it. Still … she was young and healthy, and while she could never love any man except Stephen, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if she succumbed, just once, to John’s advances.…

She felt herself starting to blush and quickly put the thought out of her mind.

If only John weren’t so persistent in his designs on her virtue. And so jealous of his prowess as a detective. His self-esteem was justified up to a point—he was almost as good as he believed he was—but it sometimes blinded him to the long view of things. Their recent investigations, for instance. It didn’t matter a whit that he’d had to share the limelight with her and a daft poseur. All that mattered was that a cold-blooded double murderess had been apprehended, all the stolen property had been recovered, Jackson Pollard was pleased that his company was not liable for any of the insurance claims, and Carpenter and Quincannon, Professional Detective Services, had been well compensated and were assured of Great Western Insurance’s continued patronage. But there was no use in trying to tell John any of this, at least not tonight, his feelings toward the Englishman running as hot as they were. She had no doubt that he would indulge in more grumbling before the evening came to an end.

And of course he did.

He was a jovial companion until they were finishing an excellent rum cake dessert. Then, after a short interval during which his face turned cloudy again, he muttered, “He wouldn’t tell me when he plans to leave San Francisco.”

Sabina sighed. “I don’t suppose I need to ask who you mean.”

“The crackbrain, of course. He likes it here, he said. Finds the city stimulating. Might stay on awhile.”

“Well? That’s his privilege, isn’t it?”

“It is as long as he doesn’t bother me again with his infernal presence. Why doesn’t he go back to England? That’s where he belongs—an asylum in England.”

The imp in Sabina made her say, “Does he really? We could be wrong about him, you know.”

“What do you mean, wrong?”

“Suppose he isn’t an impostor. Suppose he really is Sherlock Holmes, the world-famous detective.”

John stared at her as if a fiddler crab had suddenly crawled out of the collar of her dress. “You’re not serious?”

“It’s possible, isn’t it?”

“No! The real Holmes is dead. It’s folly to think that scrawny, gibbering imitation presuming on Dr. Axminster’s hospitality is the genuine article. You know that as well as I do.”

“Perhaps. But I have a feeling that whoever he is, neither of us has seen the last of him—personally or professionally.”

“We’d better have,” John said in ominous tones. “If he tries to interfere in any more of our investigations, I may not be able to restrain myself from strangling, bludgeoning, stabbing, or shooting him.”

Sabina rolled her eyes and maintained an eloquent silence.

Authors’ Note

While we have taken some slight liberties with dates and geographical locations, the detailed historical background in these pages is as accurate as diligent research can make it. Similarly, the character of the man who would be Sherlock Holmes is as true to Conan Doyle’s depiction of the original Holmes as the nature and dictates of the story permitted.

Among the many research tools we consulted, four books were particularly informative and entertaining:
You Can’t Win
by Jack Black (Macmillan, 1926), the extraordinary autobiography of one of the era’s career criminals;
The Barbary Coast: An Informal History of the San Francisco Underworld
by Herbert Asbury (Knopf, 1933);
Champagne Days of San Francisco
by Evelyn Wells (Doubleday, 1939); and
The Complete Sherlock Holmes
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ed. by Christopher Morley (Doubleday, 1927).

M.M. / B.P.

B
Y
M
ARCIA
M
ULLER AND
B
ILL
P
RONZINI

NOVELS

Double

Beyond the Grave

The Lighthouse

SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS

Duo

Crucifixion River

NONFICTION

1001 Midnights

About the Authors

Marcia Muller is the creator of Sharon McCone and one of the key figures in the development of the contemporary female private investigator. The author of more than thirty-five novels, three in collaboration with her husband, Bill Pronzini, Marcia received the MWA’s Grand Master Award in 2005.

Bill Pronzini, creator of the Nameless Detective, is a highly praised novelist, short story writer, and anthologist. He received the Grand Master Award from MWA in 2008, making Marcia and Bill the only living couple to share the award (the other couple being Margaret Millar and Rose Macdonald).

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously.

THE BUGHOUSE AFFAIR

Copyright © 2012 by the Pronzini-Muller Family Trust

All rights reserved.

Cover art by Gordon Crabb

A Forge Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

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New York, NY 10010

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is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

Muller, Marcia.

    The Bughouse affair / Marcia Muller and Bill Pronzini. — 1st ed.

            p. cm.

    “A Tom Doherty Associates book.”

    ISBN 978-0-7653-3174-8 (hardcover)

    ISBN 978-1-4299-9721-8 (e-book)

  1.  Private investigators—California—San Francisco—Fiction.   2.  Women detectives—California—San Francisco—Fiction.   3.  San Francisco (Calif.)—History—19th century—Fiction.   I.  Pronzini, Bill.   II.  Title.

    PS3563.U397B84 2013

    813'.54—dc23

2012024910

e-ISBN 9781429997218

First Edition: January 2013