Chapter 11 #2
"Why do you think he won't sleep indoors?
" Daisy looked toward the balcony. "He'd never tell you, and I shouldn't either, but he was wrapped in a shroud and dumped in a grave with a hundred corpses.
He couldn't have been more than seven. People in the Dials know the story, but they don't speak of it.
He has the right of it, Missus Fitz-Wilton.
Your boy is one of the lucky ones." She smiled and turned to go.
"Why did you tell me this?" Isadore asked in a hoarse whisper, her throat clogged with the anguish of unshed tears.
"Seemed to me you needed to know."
Isadore gathered her strength and stood. "Where are the boy and girl who came here that first night, Daisy?"
"Follow me, Missus." Daisy grinned.
Isadore supposed she was destined to provoke more hard scowls in Ban Dyer than smiles.
She'd spent time with the two children he wanted to question and had gained their trust. Thus, when he'd suggested taking them to a few taverns she'd volunteered to come along.
Volunteered might have been too gentle a word.
She'd told him there was no way in hell he was going to take them on this little pilgrimage without her.
Worse, she'd insisted they visit a few taverns not on the Four Horsemen's list of suspicious locations so that the children would feel more secure.
Which was why, late that afternoon, they now sat at a corner table in The Angel in St. Giles, their third tavern so far.
The children were eating bread and cheese, and Isadore and Ban were sipping some ale.
Ban had picked this as their third stop because the owner, Maggie Church, was a trusted ally, and her tavern was not terribly rowdy at this time of day.
Unfortunately, Maggie was not present, having gone off to run some errands, according to one of the tavern maids. Still, the atmosphere seemed calm.
"Why are you bothering with this, Isadore?" he asked whilst the children peered out the window at the horses and carriages going by. "This is not helping to find your son."
"You forget I am here to keep an eye on you, sir. Also, the sooner you find those seeking to blame you for the missing children, the sooner you can devote all of your time to finding Jeremy."
"Ah! And here I thought you'd acquired a taste for my company."
"Perish the thought," she said, giving him a slight smile.
The noise in the tavern began to increase.
Isadore studied the room. There were more men at the tables and the bar than there had been when their little group had entered The Angel.
Though that was not the reason for the growing din.
Ban's attention was on the children who had turned back to the table to finish off the bread and cheese.
Eventually, she detected the source of her concern.
Two large, rough-looking men at the far back corner appeared to be in a heated discussion.
The one with his back to her was making broad gestures with his hands.
The one facing her was wild-eyed, and the sight of him sent a shiver down her spine.
He stood abruptly. Both of their voices were raised, but his face grew more frightening with each word.
His shirt was open at the throat, and he had a horrific scar around his neck.
"Jack?" The tone of Ban's voice drew Isadore's attention back to their table. "Jack, boy, what is it?"
The young boy who had broken into her home had gone white as a sheet. His hands were locked onto the table to the point they shook. The little girl, Mary, was staring at Jack, confused and wary.
"What is it, Jack?" Ban asked the boy. Jack began to shake.
He pushed to his feet. Isadore saw immediately the poor lad had wet himself.
Ban saw as well. The voices from the back table grew louder.
Suddenly, Ban turned to stare at the two men.
Isadore had to be mistaken. For a moment, she'd thought the crime lord's expression had mirrored that of the little boy.
"Isadore," he said softly, his voice cold as ice. "Take the children and have Benny take you home."
"What? Why?" She stood and followed his black-eyed gaze to where the two men were on their feet arguing, obviously well in their cups.
"Do it now, dammit, woman. Take them and go.
" He started toward the back of the tavern.
Isadore stood and took the children by the hand.
The two men suddenly turned to face Ban.
As they watched him approach, the face of the one with the scar split in a maniacal grin.
The other man grabbed the scarred one and dragged him into the dark recesses at the back of the tavern.
Isadore ushered the children out the front door and pushed them into the carriage.
"Take them home, Benny." A pistol shot sounded from the alley behind The Angel. Isadore pulled her own pistol from her reticule and slammed the carriage door shut. "Go, Benny! Now!"
She ran down the side of the tavern and skidded to a stop as she rounded the corner.
Ban stood with a knife in each hand. The scarred man circled him wielding a knife as well.
The other man was busy reloading a pistol.
Isadore wanted to scream a warning to Ban, but she feared distracting him.
He had to know he was in danger, but it was if he didn't care.
He lunged at the scarred man who sliced Ban down the chest. The pistol wielder took aim.
Ban slashed his original opponent across the throat and the man dropped to his knees.
Ban turned to face the man with the pistol head on.
Isadore could not scream. She had no clear shot to take.
Ban stalked toward him as if he did not see the pistol.
The man pulled the trigger. The pistol clicked.
Suddenly the ruffian looked up at the back of the tavern.
He pulled the trigger one more time and then ran, fleeing down the alley as fast as he could.
Ban started to run after him, but the scarred man clutched at his legs.
Isadore did move then. She ran to where the dying man tried to drag Ban down.
Ban had him by the shoulders shaking him.
"Where is he hiding them, damn you? Where?"
The man grinned, gave one last gurgle and fell backwards, his eyes open wide in death.
"Are you out of your mind?" Isadore cried. "You could have been killed. What were you thinking?"
Ban turned slowly. He looked right through her, as if she wasn't there at all. "I told you to go."
"Stubble it." She stepped away from the pool of blood spreading around the dead man. "Who was he? And don't tell me you don't know. You and Jack both recognized him." She stuck her pistol back into her reticule.
Ban saw her do so and gave her an odd half smirk.
"Who was he, Ban?"
"A ghost," Ban said, an uncharacteristic catch in his voice as he wiped blood from his face. "I need to talk to my brothers."