Chapter Twenty-NineI sensed Mr Verne’s rich vest before I saw him. My stomach turned at the thought of likely bloodshed in the next short hour. The gilt paint on the Eureka Hotel glimmered in the faint light and I wondered how far away Mr Scobie’s body was buried. Meanwhile, Mr Bentley slept soundly inside. I hoped he had an inkling that his supposed witness might just turn on him. It was galling to think he was at peace after shattering so many lives.
Mr Verne stood in the street, his arms tense at his sides. This time, he was completely sober. He glanced at us and I saw his shoulders droop. If he’d imagined Patrick was all bluster, he truly was an i***t. I was a little surprised he didn’t run away, but I supposed he needed to stand for something after his cowardice at court. It said a g
