Chapter 43
GAbrIEL GLANCED BACK at the Clancy carriage as he walked down the cobbled street toward the smaller, run-down buildings at the dock’s edge.
Pungent odors of fish and refuse hovered in the misty night air, and the nighttime seabird cries added a familiar backdrop to the laughter and music emanating from the public houses and taverns.
The Clancy carriage was well marked, with a cloaked driver sitting atop the bench and a footman next to him.
Ella was quite safe, yet he was on edge. For all her gumption and spirit, she was, in effect, sheltered. She would be secure with Clancy, but Gabriel would not be comfortable until she was safely delivered to Hawthorne House.
By the light of the small, controlled fires burning on the edge of the street and the gas lamps shedding a meager glow on the unsavory conditions below, Gabriel sidestepped a sleeping man and ignored a group of dockworkers clustered outside a public house as he made his way to the manifest office at the edge of the docks.
A few lights burned in the filthy window, and even though the office was likely closed, he knew with whom he needed to speak.
He knocked on the door. When no answer came, he knocked louder.
Eventually, James Prior, the office’s principal agent and a longtime friend, appeared. “What are you doing here? And at this time of night?” Prior shoved his fingers through his tangled black hair and propped his hands akimbo. “Are you aware of the hour?”
“I am, but I need help. I’m looking for a man who is departing on a passenger ship tomorrow. I need to find out which one and if he is traveling with anyone else. So, of course, I came to you.”
“Ah.” Prior scoffed and hastily motioned with a scrawny hand for Gabriel to enter. “You couldn’t think to come during the day like a person of sense? No matter. Come in. We’ll have a look.”
Gabriel joined him in the office. There was no legal requirement for the passenger ships leaving from London to maintain official passenger manifests, but sometimes they worked in his favor and he would find what he needed.
Prior stepped to a desk, flipped through a large ledger, stopped on a specific page, squinted his wide-set eyes, and then extended it toward Gabriel. “There’s one ship scheduled to depart tomorrow—the Augusta Maria. Embarking for New York.”
Gabriel angled it toward the light from the meager candle lamp and searched down the names.
“The next passenger ship headed to America is scheduled to leave Wednesday at dawn,” Prior continued. “The Obsidian. That one’s bound for Philadelphia.”
Gabriel was not surprised that he couldn’t locate Gutt’s or Grenshaw’s names. He pointed to the bottom section of the list. “Are these the most recently purchased passages?”
Prior looked over his shoulder and pointed to an entry. “Yes. The names below this name have been purchased in the last week—and those below this entry have been purchased in the last two days.”
Gabriel studied the ledger more closely. It listed not only the purchaser’s name but how many tickets were purchased. Only one group of three tickets was purchased in the last week. “What do you know about this name? A William Warner?”
Prior shook his head. “It’s difficult to remember.
All these folks look the same. One blends into the next.
If you’re not finding what you need, you can always check the cargo ships.
If you want, I’m friendly with one of the clerks, so I’ll accompany you.
They’ll expect a fee, though. They don’t have my giving nature. ”
Gabriel accepted the offer and started toward the other offices, but as they passed where he’d left Clancy’s carriage, Gabriel slowed.
The carriage was gone.
“What is it?” Prior asked, slowing his own pace to match Gabriel’s.
Gabriel shook his head, confused. “The carriage I arrived in, and the people I was with, have gone.”
He attempted to rationalize it. Perhaps Ella needed to leave this area for some reason and Clancy escorted her. He could understand her being ill at ease here, for it was an unsavory area, but she was not one to admit discomfiture.
Gabriel jogged to where the carriage had been and up and down the dark cobblestone street. There was no sign of them.
Surely something happened and Clancy thought it best to move to a safer location. The thought temporarily eased him. Still, it didn’t make sense. Ella was far too loyal. She would not leave him here without an extremely compelling reason.
He considered his options for a bit before he turned back to join Prior. “Something’s not quite right.”
“Do you want me to call for the watchman?” Prior offered.
Gabriel looked across the street toward The Lark & the Gull, a public house well known for providing rooms for passengers who intended to sail. It was also known for its tavern—a dubitable gathering place for the merchants and sailors who were docked here.
As he took notice of the sailors, tradesmen, and East India guardsmen milling about, a flash of red fabric under the gas lamp across the way caught his eye.
The same red of Gutt’s neckcloth.
This was Gutt.
And he was walking with Grenshaw.
“There!” Gabriel grabbed Prior by the shoulder and turned him. “Those are the men I’m inquiring after.”
Prior squinted in the darkness from their safe distance. “The tall one in the beaver hat bought passage for the New York ship. Two days ago, as I recall.”
Suddenly, the bits of information began to form a picture.
Gabriel had been right—Gutt had been lying about the location, undoubtedly to throw him off their scent.
Clancy had been doggedly insistent that Gutt was believable—Clancy had wanted Gabriel to leave for Liverpool.
And now he was alone with Ella.
But it was more than that. Grenshaw was here.
And Clancy knew.
The pieces, while not completely together, were lining up quickly. If he followed Gutt and Bauer, would they lead him to Ella and Clancy?
“I need your help.” Gabriel licked his lips and swiped at the perspiration beading his brow. He quickly apprised Prior of the events before asking, “Which watchmen are here tonight?”
“Not sure. I can find out, though.”
“Gather up whatever watchmen and constables are here. We’ll need as much help as we can get. I’m going to make sure I don’t lose track of them. I’ll meet you back here, perhaps inside.” After finalizing the hasty plan with Prior, the men parted.
Gabriel was angry—with himself. How had he missed it? He knew Clancy was connected and integrated into seemingly every one of London’s social classes. It had always given him the appearance of power, how he could make things happen. But something like this?
Gabriel headed toward the inn.
Then searing pain jolted through the back of his head. And everything went black.