The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) by Brad Magnarella (best business books of all time txt) 📕

“And just when I’d begun to forget about our unpleasant encounter last fall,” Arnaud said. “You were very nearly in the clear, my boy.”

Though he spoke with an edge of menace, he wasn’t trying to incite fear. Not like the last time. On the contrary, he was layering the atmosphere with an opiate mist. Whether as insurance against me trying to use the ring or as a simple demonstration of his power, I couldn’t say.

“What do you want?” I asked, correcting my sagging posture.

He chuckled. “I’m not the one who came seeking you, Mr. Croft.”

“Would’ve made things easier,” I grumbled, rubbing my swollen jaw.

“Would that have been your preference? To sit and talk at your place? Next time, perhaps.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, waving a hand. Before my weakening legs could give out, I made my way to his arrangement of oxblood leather chairs and sat. “Do you mind?”

I caught a subtle tensing in Arnaud. I was being a poor guest.

“Zarko,” he called. “Be a dear and prepare Mr. Croft and me a couple of Scotch on the rocks. The vintage ’32 would be nice.”

“Depression-era?” I said. “Wow, that makes me all warm inside.”

“This is an eighteen thirty-two,” Arnaud corrected me.

“Oh.”

The vampire took a seat opposite me. He folded his legs neatly and studied me for a long moment before opening a hand of slender fingers. “Well?”

“Fine, we’ll start with why I came, and then you can tell me why you agreed to meet.” I blinked against the blearing effect of the opiate and cleared my throat. “I received a visit from three of yours last night. Why?”

“Oh, were they not clear? I shall have to speak to them about that.”

“Cut the crap,” I said. “You know what I’m talking about. Why warn me away from Ferguson Towers?”

With the ring to protect me, I felt I could be a little more forward. Especially since I didn’t know how long I could hold out.

Seeming to understand time was on his side, Arnaud accepted his drink from Zarko, sniffed it, and then swirled it several times. At last he took a small sip and sat back, pale tongue slipping across his lips. “You cannot beat a good Scotch,” he said. “Distilled right here in New York, in fact, shortly before the Great Fire of ’35. Very tragic. So many fine buildings lost. Well, go on.” He nodded toward the glass Zarko had set on my end table. “That’s a small fortune you’re neglecting.”

“I didn’t come here for the spirits,” I said. “What’s your interest in Ferguson Towers?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “As an investor, I have interests throughout the city.”

“A housing project? Please. Let’s walk through it, shall we? Two junkies are found murdered in a boiler room yesterday, their throats ripped open. Someone pours salt around the site to prevent magic from connecting the evidence to the murderer. And shortly after a wizard leaves the crime scene, three more someones shove him around and tell him to get off the case. Seems like an awful lot of trouble to protect a killer. One of yours, I assume?”

“Oh, assumptions are such dangerous things.”

“If you’re willing to spell out an alternate theory, I’m all ears.”

“Mr. Croft,” he said, swirling his glass lightly. “Do you know how many people I employ here?”

“Oh, they’re people now?”

“Hundreds. And of those, do you know how many have resigned without my consent?” He leaned toward me. “Exactly none.”

I struggled to hold his blurring face in focus. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Not in this case, Mr. Croft.”

“Then the creature belongs to one of your banking buddies, and you’re trying to corral it before it can draw a spotlight on what you really are.”

Arnaud sat back with a chuckle. “There you go again, Mr. Croft. Assumptions, assumptions. What makes you think the killer is one of ours?”

“Oh, I don’t know—that the victims are all blood drained.”

“Ours isn’t the only kind with a taste for blood, you know. And was it merely blood the creature, as you call it, was after?”

My head dipped, and I jerked it upright. I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer. “Look, whatever we’re dealing with, do I at least have your assurance that you’re going to take care of it? I get that this has to be an embarrassment for you.”

“How I choose to act is none of your concern.”

“Well, maybe it concerns the six thousand people living in those towers.” In my drug-hazed state, the silhouetted faces I’d seen in the windows seemed to be moving around me.

“Ah, you humans and your sentimentalities,” Arnaud said. “You could accomplish so much more without them.”

I nearly swooned again. When I righted myself and blinked, it felt as though the skin around my eyes had puckered. And what had I accomplished here? Denials from Arnaud that the killer was one of his. Another warning to stay away from the case. Vega wasn’t going to be happy.

“You brought me up here to tell me something,” I managed. “So tell me.”

He drained the rest of his glass and set it on his oiled end table. “I can keep eyes on you, Mr. Croft, but not at all hours. It seems your domicile is rather well protected, and you have that exquisite feline watching the street. After observing the dramatic lengths you and your partner just undertook in attempting to bypass the Wall, it occurred to me that you might agree to stay away from Ferguson Towers but still advise the detective from afar. And with that bit of insight, a more superior solution came to my mind.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

“Put my last warning out of your head. You’re back on the case.”

“Huh?”

“However.” Arnaud held up a finger. “Your instructions are now to mislead the detective.” I was already shaking my head when he added, “Send her on a wild goose chase.”

“Forget it.”

“The alternative is to have her removed from the investigation. And though I suppose I