Chapter 17
The next three hours passed unbearably slowly.
Halfway through, Billy returned to inform them that all was in readiness in Castel-a-Mare, with everyone now in position.
When Arabella asked him if Benedict had found a suitable hiding place inside the house, Billy proudly announced that Aggie had unearthed a small under-stairs cupboard after sniffing out a dead rat.
‘is ludship reckons it’ll be a bit cosy, but they’ll manage. ’
Sticking his head inside the carriage, he went on to ask if there was anything else to eat. As Bella shook her head, he pulled a face, then declared he was off to have a bit of a confab with Evans and Albert, since he’d apparently now been ordered to stay well away from Castel-a-Mare.
‘Well, at least he’s following orders for once,’ Bella muttered.
‘It all feels terribly spur of the moment,’ Alexandra fretted. ‘I wish we’d had longer to plan.’
‘Time is a luxury we don’t have,’ countered Arabella. ‘It’s fortunate we found out about this meeting before the children were moved and quite possibly beyond any help we could give them.’
Alex nodded. ‘You’re right, I know. It’s just that I’m so worried it’s all going to go horribly wrong. There are so many uncertainties, and here we are, stuck in this carriage, unable to help in any way.’ She bit her lip before whispering, ‘and Rhys…’
Bella grasped her twin’s hand. ‘Benedict will not allow anything to happen to him or to Papa and Charlotte,’ she assured her.
‘He has no intention of confronting anyone at this meeting. But he needs to learn the identities of those pulling the strings. And we have no choice but to help him follow the breadcrumbs...’ She squeezed the hand in hers, adding, ‘I trust him, Alex. I believe he will do whatever it takes to bring these evil men to justice. If we can begin to identify the ringleaders, the evidence will follow. We’ve been chasing our own tails since Winner Street. ’
Alex gave another, more emphatic nod, visibly pulling herself together. ‘I just wish we could do something. It’s getting dark and…’ She was interrupted as the door was abruptly yanked open.
‘It’s ‘er,’ hissed Billy, jumping inside the carriage, dragging Aggie behind him. ‘It’s Muriel bloody Pemberton.’
The light had almost gone when the first sound of the front door being forced open reverberated in their small hidey-hole.
Benedict and Rhys had been crouched in the small cupboard for nearly two hours while Henry and Charlotte had concealed themselves about twenty feet from the grating covering the children’s cellar prison.
The girls had been told to stay well away from the opening and do nothing that might attract attention and risk their kidnappers realising the bars sealing them in were almost completely cut through.
Ben heard the door first, and he touched his companion’s shoulder in warning.
Moments later, the merest sliver of light shone under the bottom of the door as someone walked past their hiding place, obviously carrying a lamp.
Next came the sound of the kitchen dresser being dragged away from the wall.
A key turning in the lock and the sound of booted feet descending stone steps told them the intruder intended to visit the prisoners.
Ben muttered an expletive under his breath as they waited with bated breath to see if whoever it was began herding the children up from the cellar.
If one of the children revealed their rescuer’s presence, Benedict doubted any of them would survive the night. Rhys’s tenseness next to him revealed the Baron shared the same fear.
For the next few minutes there was a heavy silence, broken only by the two men’s harsh breathing. Then the sound of booted feet coming back up the stairs. There was just one set.
Seconds later, the door was relocked, and the dresser pushed back against the wall, but this time the footsteps didn’t return past their hideout. There was a muffled noise which sounded like something breaking, and then silence. Ben wondered if the kitchen dresser had finally bitten the dust.
It was another twenty minutes before they finally heard another set of footsteps. Ben was beginning to get cramp in his legs and suspected he wasn’t the only one. His fear for Henry and Charlotte had slowly increased during the wait, which wasn’t helping. If they should be spotted…
‘Have you checked on the guttersnipes?’ The tone of the voice indicated complete indifference to their prisoners’ well-being - just as long as they were still there.
‘I counted the chits and there were none missing.’ The answering voice was female and exhibited the same level of concern. Ben and Rhys glanced at each other in near darkness. There was only one woman involved that they were aware of. Did the voice belong to Muriel Pemberton?
The scraping of the door and another set of footsteps told them a third person had arrived. ‘Jacob,’ the newcomer greeted politely.
Both Ben and Rhys felt a surge of triumph. He was here. The man they’d been looking for. The man they were almost certain was responsible for the misery of hundreds of children.
Not to mention cold-blooded murder.
‘Where’s Thorpe?’
‘He’s not here?’ A silence, presumably filled with the other two shaking their heads.
Seconds later the door rasped for the fourth time. Hurried footsteps suggested the person knew they were late. They could only presume it was John Thorpe since he was given no greeting.
‘Report.’ The unknown voice sounded almost bored.
‘The house is almost ready. I’ve seen to it myself. We will be able to move them at first light tomorrow.’
‘And the rest?’
‘Being moved over the next two months. The auction is scheduled for the end of June. Discreet invitations will go out disguised as Easter cards.’
‘How many?’
‘I believe there will be around two hundred actually present at the event.’
As the talk went on to discuss refreshments to be served during the evening, Benedict tapped Rhys on the shoulder again.
‘We need to see,’ he whispered. Lord Tavistock nodded, carefully putting his hand onto the small knob and turning it slowly.
After a few seconds, there was a soft click as the door released.
Both men stilled, waiting to see if they’d been heard, but the conversation didn’t stop.
As Rhys eased the door open slightly, the voices immediately became clearer. ‘I wish to be plain. None of them are to have too much Poppy. Any who are addicted...’
The voice trailed off just as Rhys got to his feet in the shadows of the hall. Ben was directly behind him, still on his hands and knees. Both men froze.
‘The dose will be monitored carefully. Naturally, we don’t want to lose any.’
Benedict went cold as he quietly pushed himself to his feet.
They were talking about Opium – obviously intending to keep their victims quiet and compliant.
But not too compliant… He felt a surge of white-hot anger, followed by a savage triumph that they were about to put a bloody great rub in the way of the bastard’s plans.
Carefully he stepped past Rhys and stood in the shadow of the kitchen door – where he could clearly see a woman in the lamplight. He glanced over at Rhys who nodded, mouthing ‘Muriel Pemberton.’
Incongruously, she was still wearing black. Ben couldn’t believe she was mourning the loss of her good-for-nothing brother. But there’d been a sister too, according to Henry.
‘So, that just leaves one more loose end.’ The man they presumed was Jacob had his back to them, focused on Muriel, who stared back at him defiantly.
‘Do you have anything to say?’ The voice was impassive.
There was no anger, just curiosity. For a second, she remained still, then quick as a flash, she turned and ran for a previously jammed kitchen door - which clearly wasn’t stuck any longer.
As she hit it with her shoulder, it opened just enough for her to slip through.
A second later, she disappeared into the darkness.
The man they believed to be Jacob didn’t move, but the one standing to his right stepped forward to go in pursuit – until an arm stopped him. ‘Leave her. She won’t escape us for long.’
With a shrug, the other man retreated and turned back towards the dark hall, finally revealing his face in the light of the lamp. It was Sir Charles Drayton.
Alexandra quickly doused the lantern as the three of them looked towards Castel-a-Mare. Sure enough, they saw a shadow moving fast and alone.
‘How do you know it’s her?’ Bella asked.
‘I seen ‘er in ‘er draws - scarred me ferever it ‘as. Trust me – it’s her,’ was Billy’s shuddered response.
‘Where could she be going? Does it mean the meeting’s finished, or not yet started?’ Alexandra bit her lip as the shadow got closer, revealing itself to be a woman. She was careful to keep under the cover of the trees, and she kept looking behind her.
‘Wherever she’s going, she’s in a hurry,’ Arabella observed.
‘Could be the meeting’s not over at all,’ Billy speculated.
‘The bloke I ‘eard yesterday said she’d outlived her usefulness.
They wos ‘is exact words. I reckon they might be looking to see ‘er grinnin’ at daisy roots.
That ‘ouse ‘as got a bloody big garden – there could be a dozen stiffs buried in it.’
By now the figure was almost level with them on the other side of the road.
Alex glanced at the shadowy carriage in front of them.
Fortunately, Albert and Evans had retreated inside, and the tree foliage covered their meagre light.
‘We need to follow her,’ Alexandra decided abruptly.
‘Bella, you come with me. Billy, you stay here with Aggie.’
The boy uttered a rude noise. ‘I ain’t one fer disobeying orders,’ he huffed, ‘but Mr ‘Enry said I wos to keep an eye on things and that’s wot I’m goin’ ter do.’