دانلود رمان انگلیسی “وارث مخفی براکتون”

Henrietta Maxwell shoved her spectacles higher on the bridge of her nose and summoned her courage as she stared at the giant silver maple towering above her. She could do this. After all, she’d climbed trees in her grandfather’s garden on numerous occasions, much to her grandmother’s consternation. At five feet eleven inches, climbing trees was the only advantage she’d discovered for her unusual height. She tugged the men’s leather riding gloves snug to her fingers. Grasping the lower bough, she pulled herself onto the sturdy limb and scaled the maple. The absence of leaves this early in spring aided her ascent but provided scant refuge from discovery. She hoped the tree’s location behind Bonner Insurance would assist her efforts in evading detection. Finding a secure spot in the fork of the branches beneath the second-floor window, she sank low into the split and scratched the factitious mustache she sported above her lip. She smoothed her fingers over her bushy false eyebrows, thankful her fellow boarder, Milton Rhoades, was a retired vaudeville actor who could fashion her a top-notch disguise. Etta glanced at the gold watch dangling from a chain attached to the band of her knickers. While men’s clothing may lack style and sophistication, they cornered the market on comfort and functionality. She plucked her notepad and pencil from the shirt pocket beneath her vest. Her informant, a fireman from Engine Company No. 3, had told her about a possible meeting between members of the Bonner crime family and the deputy fire commissioner, John Nilsson. After three fires in as many months, the business community was on edge. Reports in the rival Brockton Times indicated the fires were random flukes, but scuttlebutt on the street indicated someone wanted downtown businessmen to purchase fire insurance from the Bonner Insurance Company, owned and operated by Lars Bonner, the younger brother of Karl Bonner, a known racketeer. If her informant was correct, this would be the scoop of the decade—the big story Etta needed to convince her boss at the city desk that she deserved her own byline. She was as good, if not better than, any male journalist at the Brockton Enterprise, but a condition of her employment required her to conceal her identity behind the moniker Henry Mason or face termination. Only one thing rankled Etta more than concealing her true identity— unethical government officials who took advantage of the public trust. The low rumble of voices in the office above triggered Etta’s curiosity. Carefully, she raised her head until her eyes were flush with the window sash. Heart racing, she squinted through her glasses and jotted down the names of every man she recognized. The Bonner brothers were the first to enter, followed by Nilsson and a stocky man with blond hair who guarded the door. The latter’s left hand sported a white bandage. From what she could tell, her informant had been spot-on. Seeing Nilsson with the Bonner brothers was suspicious, but it didn’t prove anything. The deputy fire commissioner could claim he was purchasing insurance for his private residence. If only she could hear what they were saying. She stuck the pencil behind her ear, closed the notepad, and wedged it in the pocket of her breeches. Although the branch thinned closer to the building, she ducked low and scooted toward the window. Just when the assembly looked promising, Nilsson rose and abruptly left the office. Etta tapped her finger against her lips. Now what? The Bonner brothers by themselves didn’t make a story, let alone a conspiracy. While she pondered whether or not her informant may have sent her chasing a wild hair, the guard stepped aside, and another gentleman, dressed in a fine suit, entered. Slack-jawed, she stared through the glass. Anders Bergstrom, the ward boss for the Campello District, joined the meeting—and Etta sensed her byline getting closer by the minute.