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A Venomous Love: The Bloodstone Series, #3
A Venomous Love: The Bloodstone Series, #3
A Venomous Love: The Bloodstone Series, #3
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A Venomous Love: The Bloodstone Series, #3

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A veteran, Detective Rudyard Bloodstone has fought a brutal battle and witnessed war horrors that haunt his nightmares. Now one of those horrors has followed him home from Africa.


A vicious predator, the Cape cobra, can kill a man in thirty minutes. A suspect using the snake as a weapon in robberies is terrorizing London. When the crimes escalate into murder, a victim's daughter,
Honoria Underhill, becomes the focus of the killer. After several attempts on her life, Scotland Yard threatens to take
over the high profile case. With few leads to follow, Bloodstone and his partner must now fight department politics and catch the killer before Underhill becomes another murder victim.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 9, 2020
ISBN9781393404859
A Venomous Love: The Bloodstone Series, #3
Author

Chris Karlsen

Chris Karlsen is a retired police detective. She spent twenty-five years in law enforcement with two different agencies. The daughter of a history professor and a voracious reader, she grew up with a love of hisotry and books. An internationally published author, Chris has traveled extensively throughout Europe, the Near East, and North Africa satisfying her need to visit the places she read about. Having spent a great deal of time in England and Turkey, she has used her love of both places as settings for her books. "Heroes Live Forever," which is her debut book, is set in England as is the sequel, "Journey in Time," the third is "Knight Blindness." They are part of her Knights in Time series. All three are available as a boxed set on Kindle. She is currently working on the fourth in the "Knights in Time," series. "Golden Chariot," is set in Turkey and the sequel, "Byzantine Gold" is set Turkey, Paris and Cyprus. They are part of her Dangerous Waters series. Her most recent release is called, "Silk" and is book one of a new series, The Bloodstone Series. It is a suspense set in Victorian London. Published by Books to Go Now, her novels are available in digital, ebook, and Android App. and in paperback. "Heroes Live Forever" is also in audio format. A Chicago native, Chris has lived in Paris and Los Angeles and now resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and four rescue dogs. A city girl all her life, living in a small village on a bay was a interesting adjustment. She'd never lived anywhere so quiet at night and traffic wasn't bumper to bumper 24/7. Some of Chris's favorite authors are: Michael Connolly, John Sandford, Joseph Wambaugh, Stephen Coonts, Bernard Cornwell, Julia Quinn, Julie Anne Long, Deanna Raybourne and Steve Berry.

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    A Venomous Love - Chris Karlsen

    Excerpt from A Venomous Love

    Puzzled, Ruddy asked , You say the body is still in the chapel? Couldn’t the nurse bring an exam table to put him on and start treatment?

    She did. Young and I attempted to help but he suffered violent convulsions. Because the hospital is for children, they don’t have restraints. The head nurse instructed us to leave him back on the floor. She was afraid he’d fall off the table.

    Makes sense. The timeframe of Underhill’s death didn’t make sense. At minimum it usually took an hour and more often, hours for the venom to kill. A horrible thought occurred to Ruddy. What if it was a different suspect with a different lethal snake? But he died while you were still here?

    Yes. He convulsed brutally hard a few more times and an excessive amount of drool came out his mouth. Then he lost consciousness. A nurse put a blanket over him and a pillow under his head. He died as she was making him comfortable.

    Strange. This is abnormally fast even for cobra venom. Flanders stepped up on Ruddy’s right. What is it, constable?

    Shall I leave you to start my search? Flanders asked.

    Yes. Collect anything, and I mean anything, you find that looks out of the ordinary, Archie told him. This case is so unusual we can’t be sure what is important and what isn’t.

    The nurse led them to the curtained-off bed. Honoria Underhill lay on her side softly sobbing. Her legs were curled up so she fit on the short bed meant for a child. The nurses had covered her with a blanket. When she saw Ruddy and Archie, she sat up and swung her legs down to the side of the bed.

    Yes. We know this is traumatic for you but we need to ask you to repeat what happened with as much detail as you can recall, Ruddy told her.

    I understand. Her shoulders trembled. She buried her fists in her skirt and kept her head down as she fought to control her emotions.

    Ruddy brought the conversation back to the crime. Did the suspect say anything when he attacked?

    ’A pretty little damsel, worth a pretty risk,’ he said as he rushed toward us. Then he leapt at me with the snake in hand inches from my face. Father pushed me out of the man’s reach and stepped between us. My father tried to knock the man’s hand away and swatted at the animal.

    She dabbed at her nose again and then offered the handkerchief back to Archie who waved off the return. It happened so fast, Honoria continued. In the time it took me to blink, the snake’s throat blew outward, like a fan opening. She demonstrated the action with her hands. A second later it lunged and struck.

    .

    Copyright

    A Venomous Love

    Copyright © Chris Karlsen

    Books to Go Now

    http://www.bookstogonow.com

    Cover Design by Romance Novel Covers Now

    http://www.romancenovelcoversnow.com/

    For information on the cover illustration and design, contact bookstogonow@gmail.com

    First eBook Edition January 2020

    Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

    This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

    If you are interested in purchasing more works of this nature, please stop by

    www.bookstogonow.com

    Other Books by Chris Karlsen

    The Bloodstone Series

    Snifter of Death

    Silk

    Choosing Heart or Home

    Knights in Time Series

    Heroes Live Forever

    Journey in Time

    Knight Blindness

    In Time for You

    Dangerous Waters Series

    Golden Chariot

    Byzantine Gold

    Visit Chris at her website

    www.chriskarlsen.com

    BOOKS AVAILABLE IN EBOOK, PAPERBACK, AUDIOBOOK, and FOREIGN LANGUAGE EDITIONS

    Chapter One

    London, April 1890

    Hello, lovey. Kip Idrizi set the burlap bag on the floor of his one-room flat. He passed a hand over the bottom of the room’s only window checking for a draught. He’d lined the sill where it met the frame with rolled socks to keep the cold out but it still seeped in through the ill-fitting glass.

    I do this for you. Our harsh winters are not what you are used to in your African homeland. Satisfied the socks had stopped most of the draught he knelt near Delilah. Did you miss me? he asked, stroking back of her neck. I know. I don’t like leaving you behind in this dreary room but I had to fetch your dinner.

    He rose and pulled a mackerel wrapped in paper from a small bag and a street vendor’s roasted potato from another bag. He wished he had a bit of extra butter for the potato. The smidge he had he needed for frying his fish.

    Some of the cafes cut taties down the middle and fill them with cheese or even bacon. They give them a fancy name like jacket potatoes. They’re meals unto themselves. Not that you’d care for such fare. He winked at Delilah who stared back at him with her lidless eyes.

    I get the message. Enough delay, time for your meal. Kip lifted the wire mesh lid he kept on the old aquarium. He opened the thrashing bag and dumped the rat into the tank.

    The terrified rodent immediately ran to the corner where it trembled, its light grey nose wiggling rapidly recognizing danger. Slowly Delilah stirred from her straw bedding, rising up on her golden brown fore-body, tongue flicking out, tasting the air. A nice fat wharf rat for you today, the river is a never ending source.

    When we’ve both finished eating, we’ll go a-hunting for a toff with a fat wallet. Our rent is due. I think we should survey potential sources of income from the crowd at the museum. It’s not good to hunt too close to home, he said and lowered the lid on the cobra’s tank so the rat couldn’t escape.

    I DEMAND TO SEE A DETECTIVE. Immediately! The demand punctuated by the thump of a cane.

    Ruddy, and his partner, Archie, looked up from their paperwork toward the station lobby. The man making the demand wore a top hat and well-cut frock coat. Dennis Strong, the desk sergeant, came from behind the raised lobby desk to speak with the man. Their rapid exchange of words swiftly degenerated into a heated discussion. Vigorous gestures from the man’s free hand were accompanied by the usual narrowing eyes citizens employ to emphasize displeasure.

    That turned to shit fast, Ruddy said. 

    Top Hat, as Ruddy dubbed him, banged his shiny black cane on the floor several times, stressing his point. Both men leaned in as they made their points. Sergeant Strong held his ground. Broad-chested with thighs like ham hocks and biceps like a normal man’s thighs, he had the civilian inching back.

    How long do you give before Strong snaps that cane in two? Ruddy asked.

    Forgive the pun, but I’ve no idea what possesses people to give him stick. The man is solid as a pillar postbox. Archie gave a small shake of his head.

    A chubby-cheeked, thin-lipped woman in her forties swayed as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She had stood behind and to the side of Top Hat as he argued with Strong.

    Ruddy read the sergeant’s lips as he told the man no. The woman stepped forward and started to speak but Top Hat grabbed her by the elbow and forced her behind him. She yanked her arm from his grasp and gave him a glacier-melting glare.

    Top Hat banged his cane, again. Whatever Sgt. Strong said, the woman’s brows shot up and her chest rose with a deep intake of breath. She closed her eyes for a long moment then opened them again. 

    Any minute now the woman will intercede and Top Hat will stand down, Ruddy said.

    What makes you think so? Archie sat back and eyed her, looking unconvinced.

    She’s one of those women with a permanent just sucked-a-lemon expression. It’s as though she’s in a constant state of annoyance, I suspect with Top Hat. Ruddy’s early ability to read people and acuity at measuring their nature had sharpened as a detective.

    Understandable. Archie continued his scrutiny.

    Keep watching her. She’s desperate to have a say in this kerfuffle. If she fixes on Top Hat harder, he’ll catch fire.

    The argument wore on and Top Hat loudly declared, You are public servants. Your job is to protect the public, a job—which you’ve failed miserably as my wife and I were robbed. We were preyed upon by a vicious thug, mere blocks from here—terrorized while you lot swill tea in this grubby station house.

    We’re not here to take your abuse, Strong countered.

    Are you listening to that dunderhead? Archie asked.

    What a wanker, Ruddy muttered

    Talking to you is useless, Top Hat said. He spun and strode toward Archie and Ruddy. The woman trailed behind, her thin lips in a tight downward turn. 

    Strong broke into a rarely seen sprint, cutting the man off. Steady on. I’ll decide if you can speak to a detective.

    It’s all right, Sergeant. We’ll meet with him, Ruddy interjected before the situation escalated.

    Ruddy stood and gestured to the empty chair at the side of his desk. Would you care to have a seat? he asked the woman.

    Thank you. She adjusted her skirts and coat so she could sit comfortably.

    Ruddy was taken by surprise for a split second by her accent. He wasn’t certain he heard her right.

    Uma, how could you? You’ve no idea what sort of filthy being sat in that chair before, Top Hat snapped.

    For pity’s sake, there are layers of cloth between me and the chair. It’s not like I’m sitting on it in my bloomers.

    Uma, language!

    Ruddy had heard right. Where she placed the emphasis on her words and the soft a’s of her accent took him back. It’d been many years since he’d heard anyone speak with it. You’re a Boer?

    The woman nodded. I am. My family has a farm outside Durban. Not many folks here recognize my accent. Were you in the war there?

    Not the conflict between the Boers and England, I fought the Zulus.

    They’re crafty and menacing, the Zulus. Over the years, my family has dealt with a few chieftains over land issues.

    They gave us a tough time. Memories of the intense battle at Rorke’s Drift sprung to life but quickly died. Horrid as it was, Ruddy had to give the devils their due. They’re excellent warriors. 

    Archie had started to bring another chair over but set it down, hearing the man’s objection to sitting in a station chair. I take it you prefer to stand? he asked the man.

    Put it down next to my wife’s. I might as well sit. He pulled a snowy white handkerchief from inside his coat pocket and wiped the seat off. Holding a corner with two fingers, he threw it in Ruddy’s trash can and sat.

    Archie brought his chair around the other side of Ruddy’s desk so he also faced the couple.

    Ruddy took out a notepad and an expensive Waterman fountain pen. He’d ordered three of the pens from the company in New York, and kept them in a locked drawer when he wasn’t at his desk. He trusted the men he worked with not to steal but feared one would get borrowed and forgotten to be returned. 

    We heard you say you were robbed, Ruddy said. First we’ll need to know your names and address before we get into the details of the crime.

    I’m Greville Warburton and this is my wife, Uma. We live at 79 Portman Street, here in London.

    Do you work, Mr. Warburton?

    Unlike yourselves, I don’t laze about getting paid on the public dole. I’m an underwriter for merchant loans at Bank of England. Is that really necessary for you to know?

    Always more patient with annoying people, Archie answered before Ruddy. Yes. If we get a lead we need to discuss with you or a subject in custody, we’d want to contact you right away. It might be while you’re at your place of business.

    The explanation was met with a grunt.

    Tell us what happened with as many of the details you can remember. They may have importance you aren’t aware of, Ruddy told Warburton.

    Uma and I had just left the museum tea shop and thought we’d take the path through their gardens. We planned on finding a hansom on Tottenham Court Road.

    What time was this? Ruddy asked.

    Half-one.

    Had you gone to the museum proper or just to the tea shop? Archie asked.

    We went to the museum. Uma wanted to see the Parthenon Sculptures. My wife, like most women, has an overly romantic soul. She’s been reading Lord Byron and is captivated by her vision of Greece and his time there. That said, it’s beyond me why that should matter. You should be asking me what the hooligan looked like and go out there and find him. Do your jobs.

    From his first days on the police department, civilians telling Ruddy how to do his job never failed to get his back up. What time do you start work?

    "Nine o’clock. What difference does that make? These questions are ridiculous." Warburton banged his cane on the floor hard, once.

    Ruddy said in his flat matter-of-fact manner, I was thinking Detective Holbrook and I can drop by tomorrow and tell you how to do your job.

    In Ruddy’s peripheral vision, Archie shook his head. Next, Warburton would demand to speak to Ruddy’s boss. Superintendent Jameson would come out and placate the obnoxious buffoon and give Ruddy a dressing down later.  The satisfaction of peeving Warburton was worth the reprimand.

    Your surliness is out of order. I insist on speaking to your supervisor. Warburton narrowed his eyes and locked on Ruddy with an expression the man must’ve thought was intimidating. At the same time, he straightened and stiffened his shoulders—actions which failed to make him appear tough or stern.

    Ruddy made certain Warburton saw his smirk. The man had responded as expected.

    "I asked to speak with your supervisor.

    I’ll get him, Archie said.

    Don’t make a scene, Greville. Let’s just tell them what happened and we’ll go, his wife urged.

    I won’t tolerate being spoken to in that manner by a civil servant.

    Archie returned with their scowling boss who had a napkin tucked into his collar.

    This is Superintendent Jameson, Archie told Warburton who stood as the two came over. "Superintendent, this is Greville Warburton, a robbery victim.

    What’s the trouble? I hadn’t a morsel for breakfast and finally had a bowl of oxtail soup brought to me. Now it’s growing cold, Jameson said.

    Your detective, Warburton gestured to Ruddy, Is disrespectful and sarcastic. It’s intolerable.

    Jameson picked at a peppercorn stuck between his teeth with his fingernail. Is that all?

    I should think that sufficient for discipline, Warburton said with a look of disgust that Jameson ignored. Jamming his finger in the air Warburton added. And, I believe at the least I am owed an apology.

    Did he insult your person?

    Yes.

    Really Greville, must you fabricate? his wife said. No, he did not, Superintendent.

    Warburton continued to wave his finger as he spoke. He did threaten to come to my office and tell me how to do my job.

    Jameson got the peppercorn unstuck, examined the black kernel before flicking it away. I wouldn’t take the threat to heart. Nor do I find it worthy of an apology, Mr. Warburton. In Detective Bloodstone’s defense he is very egalitarian in his sarcasm. He’s been impertinent with most of us at one time or another. You’re not special. I’ll have a word with him later—after I finish my soup while it’s still warm. Jameson walked away toward his office before Warburton could respond.

    Uma Warburton pulled on her husband’s coat sleeve. Greville, sit down. Let’s get this report made.

    Unruffled by the complaint, Ruddy had kept his expression inscrutable during the exchange. The fact Jameson didn’t order him to apologize was no surprise. A stickler for treating victims with courtesy, unfounded complaints and lies didn’t set well with him. Warburton’s embellishment to Ruddy’s threat killed any possibility of an apology being ordered. 

    Beside the Elgin Marbles, what other exhibits did you stop to admire? Ruddy asked her.

    Only the Oriental art. But like my husband, I’m curious why that’s important.

    Along with the report, I’m going to sketch the suspect from your description.  Archie and I will show the staff the drawing. Maybe they can offer additional useful information.

    Mrs. Warburton nodded. I see.

    You said you walked through the museum gardens. Where did the suspect approach you and what did he say exactly? Archie addressed his question to Mr. Warburton.

    We were past the fountain and nearing the edge of the gardens when the man stepped from behind a large oak, blocking our path. He wore a cape like the kind coachmen wear. He flung the cloth covering one arm back and coiled around his forearm was a snake.

    A snake? Both detectives repeated in unison.

    A snake, Warburton confirmed.

    A snake...as a robbery weapon—. Huh. That’s a first for me, Archie said, looking over at Ruddy.

    Same here.

    Freddie Coopersmith and his partner, Ben Hamblet, whose desks were close enough to overhear almost everything came over. What’s this about a robbery by snake? Did we hear right? Freddie asked.

    Yes, Ruddy said.

    Freddie gave Ruddy’s shoulder a shove. Bloody hell, Bloodstone, you do get the peculiar cases.

    Leave off the commentary, Freddie.

    Did the robber demand money and threaten you with the snake? Archie asked Mr. Warburton.

    Warburton nodded. He lifted his arm. When he did the snake raised part way, from his chest, if that’s what you call that portion of a snake’s body. The thug moved the animal closer to my face and the thing began to waver side to side. The man said, ‘your money, old man.’ Warburton reached over and took his wife’s hand. Then he held the snake in front of Uma’s face and said, Your reticule."

    Do you have any idea what kind of snake it was? Ruddy asked. He’d inquire if the Regent’s Park Zoo had a missing snake of that kind. The robber may have stolen the animal.

    Warburton got as far as, I don’t— when his wife interrupted him.

    It was a koperkapet.

    Ruddy expected a European species, not anything close to what she claimed. A Cape Cobra? Are you sure? He put his hand up for her to disregard the question. Of course you are.

    Absolutely, she replied anyway. We often found them in our barn. She gave a small laugh and smiled at Ruddy. My native language for the snake popped into my mind with your question. I haven’t heard Afrikaans spoken since coming to England. You knew the word. Did you learn Afrikaans during your time in Zululand? 

    I learned a little from the Boer farmers we worked with on occasion.

    Can we get back to the telling of the crime? Warburton barked.

    Of course, continue, Ruddy said.

    I guess we didn’t move fast enough for the devil because he then did something to irritate the snake so the animal hissed and fanned out its hood, Warburton continued. "I can’t be certain but I think he stuck the snake with a hat pin.

    We gave him what he asked. He shoved Uma’s reticule into  the back of his trousers and my money into his trouser pocket. Then he pulled his cape closed, covering the arm with the snake coiled around it and ran off toward Southampton Row and out of sight.

    How much money did you lose? Archie asked as Ruddy jotted notes.

    Three pounds and also a gold money clip with a crescent moon surrounded by stars etched on it. Uma only had a few shillings in her reticule.

    Archie held his thumb and forefinger up approximately an inch apart. The bar on the clip was straight and of common width, like this?

    Yes.

    Archie dropped his hand and returned to taking notes. Was he a white man?

    The Warburtons nodded.

    Did he have an accent? Could he have been Dutch or German? Based on his comfort with such a dangerous snake I wonder if he’s from the Natal or Cape Colony region, Ruddy said.

    Uma Warburton leaned in toward Ruddy. You mean you want to know if he’s a Boer. You can just ask outright. I won’t be offended. The war between us is long over. The answer is no to all three.

    His accent was English—East End, if I had to put a fine point on it, Mr. Warburton said.

    Archie folded his arms and stared at a spot over Warburton’s shoulder. Whenever something deeply baffled him, he stared off in the distance lost in his thoughts. Where would an Englishman get such a snake, if not stolen from the zoo?

    The question wasn’t directed at anyone but all six who heard shook their heads puzzling the same.

    It’s poisonous, I take it? Ben Hamblet asked.

    Among the most venomous on the African continent. Ruddy brought out his sketch pad and a soft leaded pencil. Describe the robber for us.

    He had brown hair and mutton chops that came up to form a mustache. Warburton ran the back of his fingers along his jaw. On the sides, where the chops covered his cheeks, the hair had flecks of grey. I couldn’t tell if the hair on his head did. He wore a flat cap like the newsboys wear. I didn’t see grey on what showed. He had brown eyes, a bulbous nose, and long face.

    How old would you say he was? Ruddy shaded in the beard and mustache to indicate the dark with grey patches.

    Warburton turned to his wife. What do you think, Uma, forty, forty-five?

    Yes.

    Is there anything else you can add regarding his appearance? Ruddy asked, still sketching.

    Suddenly remembering, Mr. Warburton said, Yes! He had old pockmarks on the skin by around his nose and on his forehead. It looked like his face had been ravaged by disease, perhaps smallpox.

    Ruddy added skin craters to the upper cheeks. Like this? He turned the sketch for Warburton to see.

    Did either of your notice his clothing? Archie asked as Ruddy filled in more of the suspect’s sketch.

    Yes, Mrs. Warburton said. He had black and brown tweed trousers that were too large as he was very thin. He wore a tattered leather belt and striped braces to keep them from falling. He also wore a green sweater that had holes by the left shoulder, which was the arm he had the snake wrapped around.

    Any more you can add? Ruddy asked, looking up from his drawing.

    Both Warburtons shook their head no.

    That’s all we need for our report. We’ll let you know if we get a suspect in custody, Archie told them and stood to escort them out.

    Ruddy continued filling in the drawing, standing when Mrs. Warburton did. Good day to you. As Detective Holbrook said, you’ll know when we make an arrest.

    After they left, Freddie Coopersmith and Ben Hamblet sat in the chairs the Warburtons vacated.

    That’s some bizarre crime on your hands. Where do you start with a snake case? Freddie asked.

    We’ll check with the zoo to see if they currently have or ever have had a cape cobra. Or, if they know of anyone who trades in exotic animals. If the answers are no, then we’ll make the rounds of merchant ship companies, specifically those who have routes to Africa.

    "There’s probably a fair number that

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