Chapter 28 #3
There was something less satisfying about unlocking a door than smashing it to splinters, but it was greatly more efficient and less damaging both to property and to his shoulder.
But the reward, when he rushed into the rooms, was lacking.
The rooms were bare. Weekes had cleared out his belongings; not a shred remained to show the man had ever slept here.
A chasm opened within Richard’s belly and he felt ill. Where was Emily?
No, he chastised himself. There must be something else. Think, man, think!
The tavern! That was a place to begin. Perhaps the proprietor there would know more; Weekes was his tenant, after all, and must bring a great deal of money into the establishment.
It was early still, long before noon, and the tavern was all but deserted. One or two men slouched in the corners, but it was too soon in the day for serious drink, even in this part of London.
“Morning, darlin’,” The blousy serving maid winked at him as she had before, but there was no glint of recognition in her jaded eyes.
She must have seen so many men pass through those doors that one blended into the other until they all looked the same.
She would be little help if he had nothing but a description to go by.
Luckily Weekes was something of a regular face here. “What can I get you?”
“Just a moment of your time, if you will.” The woman’s face fell just a bit, then lit up again as Richard pulled a coin from his pocket.
“I am seeking the man with the gaming tables—that’s Mr Potter.
” He supplied the cur’s assumed name, although the serving wench would have known him by his business.
“I must see him at once. Do you know of his whereabouts?”
The woman scowled at him through narrow eyes, her foot tapping lightly on the filthy floor. She was clearly assessing him, wondering if he was bringing trouble, if she should reply.
Tell me! The words all but burst from Richard’s throat in his desperate need for information. He clenched his jaw to keep them inside. Yelling would not be helpful at all. His hands clenched into tight balls at his sides.
No, he must remain calm, seem unconcerned, no matter how much effort that required, no matter how much the world spun around him and his heart pounded in his chest. How he wished to rave and roar, to unleash his fury into the world until Emily was deposited safely in his arms. But no.
He had to remain in control. He would never get Emily back from the monster that way, and the very thought of finding and saving her gave new strength to his will.
He would do this. He must! He managed to find a cheeky grin to offer to the serving maid, and at last, she winked back at him in return.
The grin must have been the magic he needed—or perhaps it was the dim light glinting off another coin—for the wench seemed to have decided he was harmless.
“Oh, that Mr Potter! No idea what’s happened with ‘im. ‘E was here last night, plain as regular, and then around ten o’clock ‘e walked out the door and didn’t return. Not sure where ‘e’s gone. ‘E’s usually around till at least two, three in the mornin’.
Thought ‘e’d be back, but didn’t return at all.
Perhaps ‘e was feelin’ ill and went to ‘is rooms. Sent a boy around this mornin’ to collect ‘is winnings, though. Young Kit from down the street—Mrs Smith’s boy, not that there’s a Mr Smith, if you know what I mean!
” She gave him another wink. “Ale, darlin’? ”
“No, not now, I thank you. Perhaps later, after I’ve had my chat with Potter. Where might I find young Kit?”
She gave him a description of the house, and he rushed out in search of the lad.
The boy was not as helpful as he might have been.
He was a scrawny youth of about eleven summers, and certainly bright enough if quite illiterate.
He had passed along the bag to another man at the crossroads, who had paid him with a solid coin.
The man was big and smelly, and that was all he could say of him.
Where in the world was Weekes?
“Lookin’ for Samson?”
Richard turned at the words. A man was loitering by the doorway where Kit stood.
“That’s the fellow’s name?”
“Not that I know. We just call him that because he’s a large bruiser what looks like he could pull down a temple. He came only about two, three days ago. Hard to miss, though, a man that size. Barely fits through the door, he’s so tall, and built of bricks.”
Richard reached into a pocket and withdrew a copper cartwheel penny, which he casually tossed into the air.
He had not had time to stock his pockets and hoped that he had enough small coin for his purposes here today.
He flipped the penny to Kit, who looked like he had just been named a prince, and then fished out another coin which he held between two fingers.
The man’s eyes did not waver from the silver sixpence.
“I might know where to find him too!” The man kept staring at the coin. “Seen him at the brothel that’s just taking customers now. I think he’s there to keep the girls under control.”
Under control? This did not sound like the women were there willingly. He would see to that… but later. First, he must find Emily.
Richard fought to keep his voice even. “New brothel, eh? When did it open?”
“Looking for some company? I dare say some of the girls are fresh and young, but if your tastes run to women rather than girls, he might have a new one for you. Brought her in last night, late it was too. Didn’t sound too happy though, that one.
Never knew a woman could use that sort of language.
Anyway, the place is new, just a night or two old. ”
“Take me there.” It was a command, not a request, but the man did not seem bothered by the distinction. That coin between Richard’s fingers was enticement enough.
The man led Richard through a maze of narrow lanes and alleyways to a nondescript brown brick building off a dingy courtyard. “Good luck to you, then!” The man reached for the coin, but Richard held it back.
“There’s another of these for you later if you heed me. There’ll be a redheaded Scot named Lyons looking for me, and an officer named Hastings. I’m Fitzwilliam. Lead them here safely, and when I return, that second coin is yours.”
“Your servant, sir!” The man grabbed the sixpence, tipped his non-existent hat, and scurried off through the maze, leaving Richard to face his dragon and rescue the damsel.