Chapter 11 #2
By the time Augustus Shackleford turned onto the main quayside, he could see no trace of either Percy or Finn. ‘Thunder and turf,’ he puffed, sitting down on a convenient lobster pot to get his breath back. A couple of minutes later, he caught sight of Percy coming towards him.
‘Finn’s vanished,’ the curate reported, his face white.
The Reverend felt panic grip him the like of which he’d not felt since the incident with old Queen Charlotte and the duck-pond. ‘He can’t just have disappeared into thin air. Which way did he go?’
Percy shook his head, sitting down next to his superior.
‘There are several small warehouses just before the end of the quay. I think he might have gone into one of ‘em, but I daren’t go in and look. If the lad’s hiding, my arrival could give him away.
’ The curate looked as though he was about to cry, and for a second Augustus Shackleford felt like joining him.
‘Did you see Flossy?’ Percy shook his head. ‘Well, in that case, it stands to sense they’re both in hiding. It’s what Finn and Flossy do best. If they’d been found, you’d have heard the deuced commotion from here.’
The Reverend laid his hands on his knees, thinking for a second.
‘I think our best option is to get as close as we can to the warehouses without being seen,’ he went on, his voice growing more decisive.
‘The lad’ll send Flossy for help if he needs it, so it’s our job to be as close as possible, just in case.
’ He clambered to his feet. ‘Come along, Percy, my man, there’s no time to lose. ’
Finn was undeniably proud of his ability to blend in with his surroundings whenever he needed to. It was a skill he’d learned as an orphan on the streets of Banalan, though he hadn’t had cause to use it so much since Percy and Lizzie Noon had become his parents.
He slowed down as he got closer to his quarry, calling Flossy to him and strolling casually, while making sure to keep his distance. At the end of the main quay, the sailor turned to the left and was abruptly out of sight.
Picking Flossy up, he hurried towards the place he’d seen the deckhand disappear and peered cautiously round the corner. In front of him were three warehouses – or at least that’s what they’d been in the beginning. Finn doubted they’d housed anything more than rats in a long time.
‘What do you think, Floss?’ he whispered. He cast his eyes slowly over the dilapidated buildings. Initially, he could see no sign of the man he’d been following until all of a sudden he spotted movement. A door opening and closing.
Finn felt his heart slam against his chest and wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction.
But what good would that do? If he was going to discover anything useful, he had to get closer.
Unfortunately, that meant crossing the very empty distance to the warehouses.
After a moment’s hesitation, he buried his head in Flossy’s soft fur, gaining comfort from the little dog’s warmth.
Then, straightening his shoulders, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the open.
Whistling softly, he sauntered across the empty piece of ground, looking for all the world as if he was enjoying a morning stroll.
With every step, he expected a sudden shout ordering him to stop, and by the time he reached the shadow of the first warehouse, he was trembling almost uncontrollably. Leaning against the sagging wall, he stayed put, allowing his quaking to subside while Flossy licked his ear.
Finally, after about five minutes, his shaking stopped, and he took a step away from the wall and crept towards the far warehouse where he could hear the sound of voices.
All too soon, he reached the same door the sailor had vanished through, and tucking Flossy under his arm, he eased the door open.
At the sudden sound of footsteps, the little dog started growling under her breath.
Hushing her urgently, Finn tucked her small body inside his vest, freeing up both of his hands.
‘We have to be quiet, Floss,’ he murmured to the top of her head, ‘but you need to be ready to run when I tell you.’
Carefully, he stepped into the gap made by the open door and peered into the gloom. He could just make out the back of the sailor standing at the other end of the room. He was facing another closed door, obviously waiting for something - or someone.
To Finn’s right was a pile of old lobster pots, and as he heard the sudden echoing of footsteps, he quickly crouched behind them and peeped over the top.
Seconds later, the door opened, and a man stepped through.
To Finn’s surprise, he looked like a toff.
He was even wearing a top hat. The boy held his breath, straining to hear the conversation.
After a few seconds of mumbling, the deckhand raised his voice. ‘I’m tellin’ you, Sir, they’re anchorin’ at Solidor Bay outside St. Malo. The Captain told us, plain as day.’
‘Did he say why?’ For some reason, the cultured voice turned Finn cold. Helplessly, his stomach churned.
‘I dunno, yer ludship, I ain’t a Jack Tar by trade as yer know. Taffy’s coverin’ fer me.’ There was a pause, and then the sailor spoke again, this time with more confidence.
‘I know yer ludship wants this bloke in Davy Jones' Locker afore ‘e gets to Montclair, an’ I reckon I’m the man fer the job,’ he declared. ‘I’ll slit ‘is throat an’ send ‘im over the side wi out anyone ‘seein’ or ‘earin’ a thing.’
‘You think you can do that?’ The cultured voice sounded bored.
‘No one’ll even know ‘e’s gone,’ came the boastful reply. Finn watched the toff stare down at the smaller man, his face expressionless in the gloom. He said nothing. Just… stared.
‘But if a job’s to be done right, it deserves a bit extra.’ The sailor was babbling now, clearly reciting words he’d told himself over and over again. Finn watched, his heart suddenly in his mouth as the deckhand took a small step backwards.
‘Is Taff onboard?’ the man asked softly.
‘Aye, yer ludship.’
‘And he knows what must be done?’ The sailor nodded.
‘Have you told him your… little plan?’ The sailor swallowed visibly and took another small step backwards. No stranger to violence, Finn gave a small moan and squeezed his eyes shut, instinctively knowing what was about to happen.
‘You’re quite right, sometimes a little extra is exactly what’s required.’ Finn heard a scuffle, then a muffled gasp, and when he opened his eyes, the sailor was sliding slowly towards the floor.
Holding his fist against his mouth in horror, the boy remained still, not daring to move a muscle.
Seconds later, the toff gave a grunt and finally let the man drop.
In his hand was a narrow, pointed blade.
Leisurely bending down, he wiped it clean on the prone sailor’s jacket.
Then he slid it into a small sheath and slipped it inside his coat.
At that moment, the early morning sun came out from behind the clouds and shone directly through the window.
It was too grimy to give much light, but there was just enough for Finn to notice a scar beginning at the base of the gentleman’s thumb and disappearing up his sleeve.
Unfortunately, before he could study it further, the sun disappeared, returning the room to shadow.
After one last look at the corpse lying at his feet, the man turned on his heel and quickly walked back the same way he’d arrived without a second glance.
For several seconds after the door slammed behind him, Finn remained where he was. That the sailor was dead, he had no doubt. The blood was slowly seeping out from a puncture wound in his side, pooling grotesquely on the floor.
Finn was no stranger to death, but the complete lack of concern exhibited by the stranger chilled him in a way he couldn’t even begin to explain.
But though he was terrified of moving, the boy knew he would be in far more danger if he stayed where he was.
Toffs like Mr Top Hat Man didn’t do their own dirty work, and he knew that somebody would be along soon to get rid of the body.
Slowly and carefully, he got to his feet, and keeping his eyes on the far door, backed quietly back towards the entrance he’d come through earlier.
As he finally slipped through the door, out into the blessed fresh air, Finn realised what it was about the killing that had made it extra horrifying. Toffs didn’t generally do their own dirty work.
Mr Top Hat Man had killed the sailor himself because he enjoyed it…