Chapter 18
Con's wife, Marianne had turned his study into such a lady's parlor, Ban hardly recognized the room these days.
Each of his brothers had made changes for the ones they loved in the last months.
Con and Marianne, Fam and Ethan, Warrick and Beatrice had all managed to fall in love and make their lives together work.
Oh, they had their fights. Ban had heard about them from his own men and from his brother's men.
But Con, Fam, and War were happy, and that was all Ban had ever wanted for them.
Well, happiness, and criminal enterprises that helped them amass a fortune and avoid prison or the noose.
Speaking of prison and the noose, he was ready to leave and head back to the Devil's Den if Archer Colwyn, who had called this meeting, didn't show up soon.
Not that his lair was particularly welcoming these days.
His rooms were so quiet, they echoed without Isadore's constant lectures.
The men and the women who shared his lair had grown quiet and sullen around him.
He wanted to remind them that she was the one who left, but that would be a certain sign of weakness and he had even less use for weakness now.
"Where the hell is he?" Ban finally asked. "What news could he possibly have that is so fucking important that--"
"John Dyer is dead," Dickie Jones announced as he ambled into Con's study, a string-wrapped bakery box in his hand.
"Watch yourself, Fam Dyer. Those aren't for you.
" He snatched the box out of Fam's greedy hands and presented it to Ban.
"From Nathaniel Charpentier with his compliments.
Although I think he meant sympathies. That Missus Fitz-Wilton is one fine woman. "
"I'd kill you, you gutter rat, but Carrington-Bowles would let me bleed to death the next time I'm shot.' Ban opened the box to find it stuffed full of Charpentier's famous macarons. He plucked a raspberry macaron from the top and handed the box back to Fam.
"He's right about two things," Archer Colwyn said. He marched into the study and took his customary chair in front of Con's desk. He glanced about the room and shook his head. "Is your wife ever going to stop decorating your headquarters?"
"If she does, she'll become your problem, won't she Bow Street?" Con said, and filched a macaron from the box before dropping into his own chair. "What else is Dickie right about?"
"John Dyer is dead, and the case of the missing and dead children is all but solved thanks to that fine woman, Missus Fitz-Wilton." Ban did sit up at that piece of information. He was absolutely pitiful when it came to even the slightest word about Isadore.
"Explain yourself," Ban demanded.
"She's the one who put me onto The Angel, or at least onto John taking orders from someone looking down on the courtyard the night someone put Jack Dyer down. I started asking questions. I sent Dickie into Bedlam to find out about Ma Dyer."
"You mean they didn't keep him?" Fam asked.
"Fuck you, Dyer," Dickie replied.
"I would," Fam replied. "But I don't do children, and Ethan would kill you."
"I would," Ethan said from his customary seat in the corner. "I don't get shot enough to worry about Carrington-Bowles."
"Will you lot please stubble it," Con demanded. "Go on, Bow Street."
"Someone broke Ma out of Bedlam about ten months ago." Colwyn raised his hands when Ban and his brothers began peppering him with questions. "Can I please finish?"
"Where is she now?" Warrick asked.
"Now? She is at Bow Street, locked in a cell, completely attics-to-let and dying of consumption.
Carrington-Bowles says she won't make it to Christmas.
" He drew his notebook from his pocket and flipped through several pages.
"I found her in the cellar of The Angel along with half a dozen starved, beaten, and ailing children.
They are all at the Rose Street dispensary being treated.
Two of them have parents who have been searching for them for months.
Your Missus Kamish is making arrangements to take the other four into the Bevis Marks community as soon as CB says they can travel. '
"The old witch," Ban muttered, referring to Ma Dyer. "The two children I caught said something about an old witch."
"Ma is that and more," Fam agreed.
"How was this going on at The Angel without Maggie Church knowing about it? We asked her several times. She said she knew nothing about missing children," Con mused.
"There is no Maggie Church," Colwyn said.
"Maggie Church is actually Elizabeth Dyer, Ma Dyer's daughter.
She and her brothers have been behind this operation the entire time.
Even before they broke their mother out of Bedlam.
When they broke her out and discovered she was dying, they decided to use their business to land you four in prison, or better, at the end of a rope. "
"All these years," Warrick said, shaking his head. "We thought she was a friend."
"Sullivan will be heartbroken," Fam added.
"Sullivan helped us catch her," Colwyn replied. "She thought he was going to help her leave the country. I guess in a way he did. She's going to hang for the murder of John Dyer."
"Her brother?" Ethan exclaimed.
"Says the man whose brother is alive only because he made our brother promise not to kill him," Warrick interjected dryly.
"I do not need to hear that," Colwyn said. "Apparently, when he and Jack drew your attention, Ban, she was afraid you'd caught onto their scheme. She shot John and hid his body in the ice house behind The Angel along with Jack's body, which she cleaned up after someone cut his throat."
"How did you figure out Maggie was actually Elizabeth?" Con asked.
"He had some help from another member of the Dyer family," Marianne announced as she came in carrying a tea tray propped on her pregnant belly. Dickie jumped up to take the tray and placed it on the table in the middle of the room.
"What member of the Dyer family?" Con asked, whilst reaching for the cup of tea she'd prepared. She walked past him and handed the tea to Ban. Then bent down and kissed Ban on the top of his head.
"She likes me best," Ban said, and took a long sip of the tea.
"Your sister Nell," Colwyn said. The room went silent as a country church in February. "Lady Camilla and Captain El let me know where Nell is working. I went to see her, and she remembered who Elizabeth married. She saw her just recently in a shop in Camden, but the man with her called her Maggie."
"How is Nell?" Con asked the question they all wanted to know.
"She's fine. She works for an elderly earl who thinks she is the finest woman he knows." Colwyn gazed over his teacup at them. "I told her I would not divulge where she is. She asked after the health of all of you lot as well."
The room grew quiet again. "Men," Marianne finally said with a huff. "You're all such stubborn, arrogant loobies." She stopped next to Ban on the way out. "Especially you, Ban Dyer." She squeezed his shoulder and left the room.
"By the way," Colwyn added, as he finished his tea and closed his notebook. "John Dyer was working at Lord Whitcombe's print shop all this time. He made certain the stories about the dead children being found on your doorsteps made it into all of the news sheets."
"Bloody hell," Con groaned. "Is that all?"
"Actually no," the runner replied. "I supposed you've heard that George Fitz-Wilton had a terrible accident. Fell down the stairs and broke his neck."
"Pity," Ban murmured and took another sip of his tea. His brothers looked anywhere but at Archer Colwyn.
"Apparently, he was seen meeting with Maggie Church at The Angel a few days before he was discovered at the bottom of the stairs in his townhouse."
"Is that significant?" Warrick asked. Ban kicked him.
"Not particularly. Oh, and Horace Sutton is being forced to leave the country ahead of his creditors. Apparently, the Stringfellow Bank held several mortgages on his properties. Your Missus Fitz-Wilton foreclosed on him yesterday."
"Oh, brava," Ethan murmured.
"Told you I liked that woman," Fam felt the need to say.
"That's all for now," Colwyn said. "Come along, Dickie. I promised CB I wouldn't leave you with these bad influences."
"Right, guv'." Dickie snatched another macaron from the box and stopped to hand Ban a note. "Stopped by Grosvenor Street. Was told to give this to yer. Try not to be a nodcock."
Ban stood and brushed the macaron crumbs from his breeches.
"Sit down," Con ordered, as the door closed behind Colwyn and Dickie.
"Fuck you," Ban snapped. He had no patience for his brother's interference. He hadn't slept in days. He was tired and hungry and for some reason his whole body hurt like he'd taken a beating. A few more words from any one of his brothers, and he'd end up punching someone.
"Its over, Ban. Ma's all but dead. The twins, even Beth Dyer, they're all done for," Fam said.
"What has that got to do with anything?"
"We're free, Ban. It's time we all started living like free men," Warrick said. "That's what Beatrice has taught me."
"Rubbish. We've been free men since Fam and Con killed Bill Green. We're the most free men in London. We're beholden to no one. We have wealth. We live as we want. What more is there?"
"Life, Ban, dammit." Con wasn't making any sense in Ban's mind. "When are you going to climb out of that fucking grave, little brother? When are you going to cast death out of your life and find something worth living for?"
"Death is out of my life. Death can't touch me." He struggled to breathe. He didn't want to hear this.