Kronberg Crimes 01 - The Devils Grin

would probably hold me back if I’d ever thought of marrying you. But there are things in my past and present life that make it impossible for me to be someone’s wife.’
    ‘Right, sure. Ya jus’ want ter fuck,’ he said coldly.
    For a moment I felt like slapping his face, but then took his hands into mine and said softly, ‘You have saved my life and you are my best friend. I am so very sorry, Garret. I do love you, too, but not how a wife should love her husband.’
    ‘So that’s it? Yer never goin’ ter tell me who you are? Why you have that thing in your doctor’s bag?’
    I grew very hot suddenly. ‘Thing?’
    ‘Ya have a cock on straps in your doctor’s bag, Anna. I wonder why ya have a doctor’s bag at all. Y’are a nurse, or that’s what ya told everyone. What are ya doing all day long, Anna?’ He had taken two steps back, extracting his hands from mine. The distance between us had instantly grown so much, it felt as though we’d never be able to overcome it.
    ‘Garret, why did you propose to me at all?’
    He exhaled loudly; it sounded like a growl. He lifted his hands, as if to speak, opened his mouth, closed it again, and I decided to answer for him. ‘You thought that after our marriage I would tell you all about myself? All my secrets?’
    All air left his lungs and he nodded.
    ‘Let’s just assume I’m a pervert,’ I noted as neutrally as possible while my intestines wrenched themselves up into my throat.
    His eyes were full of rage now, knowing that I would never reveal myself to him. Then he growled in earnest, turned, and left without a word.
    I don’t know how long I stood there, watching the passing clouds reflected in the puddle before me. Eventually the cold crept under my coat and my head began to spin again, so I made to leave, too.
    After only a few steps I almost stumbled over a pile of clothes with a wreck of a beggar inside. ‘What are you doing in the middle of the street?’ I enquired. He coughed and mumbled something like ‘M’lady.’
    ‘Come, stand up, and I’ll help you to the sidewalk.’ I bent down and offered my hand. The pile started moving reluctantly and a pair of piercing grey eyes gazed at me.
    ‘For Christ’s sake!’ I shouted, pulling hard on his tattered coat, almost ripping it in two.
    ‘My apologies,’ said Holmes, rising to his feet and looking as though nothing had happened.
    ‘You spied on me!’
    ‘Excuse me, but you sent me a telegram!’ he said indignantly.
    ‘But I did not invite you to…to… What’s the damn word again?! … eavesdrop !’ I punched his shoulder. ‘Damn it, Holmes!’ The hard shove hadn’t shown much effect.
    ‘I am sorry!’ he growled. ‘I tried to be discreet and give you some privacy. You two almost ran me over. I didn’t want to interrupt so I took cover and hoped you wouldn’t see me. And you wouldn’t have if not for your exorbitant philanthropy!’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Forget what I said. Why did you want me to come?’
    His swift change of topic didn’t go unnoticed and I made a mental note to get the rest out of him later.
    ‘Dr Gregory Stark from Cambridge Medical School is an anatomist who got bored. He invited me to take part in his so-called privately funded vaccine development project .’
    I had to bend down now, my head was spinning badly.
    ‘I need to go home,’ I muttered and turned to leave. Holmes was at my side instantly, offering me his arm. I took it with reluctance. Strangely, he walked me to my apartment without me ever having given him the address. I unlocked the door and he helped me on to my bed.
    ‘Thank you,’ I said, lying down and closing my eyes for a while. ‘Could you identify the two men already?’
    ‘I am very close. I think in two or three days’ time I will have found out all there is to know.’
    Holmes looked around my rooms. ‘May I ask why you choose to live here? You could easily reside in a better area and still come here every day to treat the poor.’
    ‘Ah, Mr Holmes, some things are so obvious and still you can’t see them.’ I looked up into his face and saw his eyes darken. ‘I live here because I like it. There is life here and real people. People who speak their minds, who quarrel openly and not behind closed doors. People who kiss on the streets and not at home after nightfall. It’s dirty, dangerous and tough to live here, but I prefer this life to the controlled boredom of the higher classes.’
    I observed his expression but