Ripping Time by Robert Asprin & Linda Evans

“Of course, sir.”

“Move her to the guest room as soon as the medicine takes hold. I’ll check on her again after I’ve seen Mr. Maybrick.”

Charles nodded and stepped aside to let him pass. Lachley stormed past, vowing to take a suitable vengeance for the interruption. Then he drew multiple calming breaths, fixed in place a freezing smile, and steeled himself to suffer the slings and arrows of a fortune so outrageous, even the bloody Bard would’ve been driven to murder, taking up arms against it. One day, he promised himself, I shall laugh about this.

Preferably, on the day James Maybrick dropped off a gallows.

Meanwhile . . .

He opened the door briskly and greeted the madman waiting beyond. “My dear Mr. Maybrick! So delighted to see you, sir! Now, then, what seems to be the trouble this evening . . .”

Beyond James Maybrick’s pasty features, beyond the windows and their heavy drapes and thick panes of wavy glass, lightning flickered, promising another storm to match the one in Lachley’s infuriated soul.

* * *

Kit Carson knew he was a hopelessly doting grandfather when, twenty-four hours after Margo’s departure for London, he was seriously considering going through the Britannia the next time it opened, just to be near her. He missed the exasperating little minx more than he’d have believed possible. The apartment they shared was echoingly empty. Dinner was a depressingly silent affair. And not even the endless paperwork waiting for him at the Neo Edo’s office could distract him from his gloom. Worse, they’d found no trace of Ianira Cassondra, her husband Marcus, or the cassondra’s beautiful children, despite the largest manhunt in station history. Station security hadn’t been any more successful finding the two people who’d shot three men on station, either, despite their being described in detail by a full two-dozen eyewitnesses.