The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [58]
“Yes, well, it has been for most of this last year, and I hope it will be again soon.”
“You do not need my help?”
“No, thank you, sir. You are kind to offer it. But I think Mr. Chase can handle this miscreant. Indeed, it appears he already has.”
With a cautious nod, Mr. Florencio closed the door.
“Are you hurt, Mr, Chase?” Her voice was anxious. “It’s so dark. Come inside and let me see.”
Chase shook his head, even though he could feel where the bone was broken.
Holding his arm against his chest and doing his best to ignore the throbbing pain, Chase stepped away from her and nudged Nesbitt with his boot. The man groaned but did not open his eyes.
“Mr. Chase, please leave him unconscious. Your needs come first, and we must send someone for the magistrate.”
“No, Mrs. Chernov, go inside if you do not have the stomach for this. I want answers and I want them now.” He looked at her over his shoulder and read shock in her eyes. “I promise you that after this conversation, Nesbitt will not bother you again.”
“That is what I’m afraid of,” she said, clutching the chain at her neck.
“Yes, I am angry enough to run him through, but I have learned control, I assure you.” As he spoke he gathered up his sword stick.
“Thank you.” She let go of her necklace and stepped back but did not go inside.
So be it, Chase thought. He nudged Nesbitt harder this time, and when the man opened bleary eyes, Chase swung his sword dramatically and stopped it just before it sliced Nesbitt’s throat.
“I want to know two things, Nesbitt, and I want the answers now. Do you understand?”
Nesbitt didn’t answer, and Chase pressed sword to skin so that a thin trickle of blood appeared.
“Yes, yes, move that sword away from my throat and I’ll tell you whatever you want.”
Chase could have sworn he saw tears in Nesbitt’s eyes, but they drew no mercy from him. Chase’s arm hurt like hell, as if he needed a reminder of the kind of trouble this man could cause.
He moved his sword and Nesbitt drew a breath, but when Chase let the point rest over Nesbitt’s heart, the sneak thief tensed again.
“Tell me who hired you and what they want.”
“I don’t know. I swear on the Bible I don’t know the man’s name. He was wearing a hood when we met. All I know is he had a foreign accent.”
“What kind of accent?”
“A Russian accent. I think that’s what it was because that woman’s name is Chernov and that’s a Russian name, isn’t it?”
If Lydia had not been standing nearby he would have used language that would surely impress Nesbitt. Dealing with a stupid thief had its advantages. But drawing out accurate information was not one of them. “So you actually aren’t sure what kind of foreign accent it was?”
“No, but there aren’t that many foreigners in Birmingham.”
Chase tried to imagine stopping everyone who spoke with an accent and questioning them. “And what did this person with an accent want?”
“He told me to tell the woman that he wanted what she valued most. A necklace.”
“What?”
Chase had to agree with Mrs. Chernov’s single word. That made no sense. All of this for a necklace?
“He said it was her greatest treasure, and she would know what he meant, and he would have it from her by any means necessary.”
Chase glanced back at Lydia. She was holding the chain she seemed to wear all the time. She shook her head, looking intent and determined. “I have only one necklace and it has no value beyond sentiment.”
“You may or may not be telling the truth, Nesbitt.” Chase pressed the sword to his cheek and drew blood. “I am tempted to brand you here and now.”
Lydia gasped and Chase nodded. “But since it would upset Mrs. Chernov, I will allow you this. Listen to me. You make the circuit to your work, your home, and your favorite coffeehouse. You go nowhere else. I will know with whom you meet or if you go anywhere other than those three places. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Nesbitt whispered, finally cowed.
“If you violate this order, I will find you and brand you a thief in a way that