CHAPTER 20 #2
“Your friend Sheffield—”
“Sheffield is not involved in any wrongdoing. I give you my word on that,” interrupted Wrexford.
“I have reason to believe that Lord Woodbridge may have been used as a pawn in certain fraudulent financial transactions, of which Mather was a part. And that Henry Peabody, conscientious clerk that he was, may have stumbled across a business within a business going on at the East India Company, which is why he was murdered.”
“And you think the perpetrators of this business within a business sought to frame Woodbridge for the murder?”
“Woodbridge believed what he was told when he agreed to be part of a clandestine consortium. When he learned that he had been misled about the nature of the business and why it must be kept secret, he demanded to withdraw,” explained the earl.
“I think the planting of the knife is a warning. Right now, it’s just circumstantial evidence.
You don’t have enough proof to bring charges against a peer of the realm. ”
He let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, “However, they’re sending the message that they are powerful enough to destroy him with a few well-placed words to the right person.”
“I won’t ask you how you know all this,” muttered Griffin.
“It’s best you don’t,” agreed the earl. “I’ve some ideas on how to begin gathering the evidence I need to expose the dastards.”
“You know, if there’s a whisper of scandal stirring within the world of the wealthy and powerful . . .” The Runner leaned back against the squabs. “Then I imagine A. J. Quill will hear of it. I swear, a flea can’t fart in this city without that infernal scribbler getting wind of it.”
Griffin made a face. “So perhaps you should find a way to learn his identity and see if he’ll share his sources with you.
” A humorless laugh. “And convince him to help you root out the dastards. God knows, he seems to share your abhorrence of the high and mighty misusing their power. A few of his satirical drawings hinting at malfeasance within the almighty East India Company would work in your favor by stirring up a buzzing of hornets.”
Or a slithering of serpents.
A gust of rain-soaked wind slapped against the window glass, and Wrexford was suddenly aware of the chill seeping into the hackney.
Charlotte’s pen could put her in grave peril....
The wheels clattered to a halt. “I must attend to my current duties,” said Griffin as he grasped the latch and swung the door open.
“A word of caution . . . think carefully on just how far you’re willing to go for the truth, milord.
I admire your passion for justice. But not if it costs you your life. ”
His hobnailed boots scraped over the cobblestones. “And my beefsteak suppers.”
* * *
The journey back to London had passed without incident, and on entering the city just after nightfall, Tyler and Sheffield had headed for Mayfair with their companions, while Alison’s carriage had turned east to drop Charlotte, McClellan, and the boys at her residence.
Despite the jolts and jostling of travel, Charlotte had managed to doze off for part of the journey. The other hours had been spent in thinking, thinking....
Time is of the essence, but how to attack an enemy who is still just an unseen specter flitting through the shadows?
McClellan unlocked the front door and bustled the boys into the kitchen for a simple supper. “It won’t take long to fix a pot of hot porridge,” she said to Charlotte after lighting the stove and setting the kettle on the hob. “Sit and I’ll brew a cup of tea.”
“Tea would be lovely,” answered Charlotte. “But I’ll just have some cheese and bread from the larder.”
Raven leaned forward on his stool and set his elbows on the worktable. “You’re going out, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” Her skirts whispered over the flagged floor as she took a seat and met his gaze. “And we need to establish some rules as to the comings and goings of this household.”
The muted chink of pots ceased as McClellan went very still.
A mutinous flicker lit in Raven’s eyes. “You’ve never sought to clip our wings before.”
That wasn’t entirely true. But Charlotte understood the elemental challenge he was making and prayed that she could handle it without breaking the bonds of trust that tied their little family together.
“You’ve become older and more involved in adult affairs,” she began carefully. “Which are more complicated and fraught with consequences, both for you and for your friends.”
Hawk shot an uncertain look at his brother.
“Decisions must be weighed with great care, and the scales are often very hard to balance. Sometimes you must tip them against your inclinations because it’s the right thing to do.”
Charlotte paused, watching Raven closely.
The war of emotions was writ plainly on his face. He was on the cusp of adolescence—not quite a child, but not yet an adult. Rebellion was natural, as she knew all too well. His eyes narrowed....
And then a tiny twitch curled the corners of his mouth upward. “So you’re saying that Lord Wrexford is right, and that there are times you have to look at a problem with logic and act on reason, not emotion?”
“Yes, that’s precisely what I’m saying.”
The smile became more pronounced. “You don’t always listen to His Lordship’s requests.”
“On the contrary. I always listen very carefully and give his words great weight,” responded Charlotte. That didn’t mean she always did exactly as he wished. But she left that thought unsaid.
Raven appeared to be mulling over her reply.
“In past investigations, we were up against a small group of individuals. This time, we’re facing a powerful institution with ties to the highest circles of government. The dangers are great. In fact, they’re terrifying.” She drew in a measured breath. “Or should be.”
“How can we help?” asked Hawk in a small voice.
“By accepting that there will be times, like tonight, when I will need to ask you to do as I say, even though you might not like it,” said Charlotte.
She thought for a moment and allowed a small smile.
“You saw Professor’s Sudler’s amazing Computing Engine before we left Wrexford’s estate.
Well, with the number of our friends involved in this investigation, we are like the Engine, in that we have complicated parts which must all work together.
If one piece comes unhinged, it can wreck all the others. ”
Raven nodded solemnly. “Oiy, I see what you’re saying.”
She released an inward sigh of relief.
“But if you must go out alone,” he added, “you need to tell us where you’re going. In case . . .”
In case I don’t return.
“Fair enough,” said Charlotte.
“In fact,” piped up McClellan as she tapped a cooking spoon against her palm, “I suggest that for the time being, the house rule is none of us go out without the others knowing where we’re headed.”
“Agreed,” answered Charlotte.
“Agreed,” echoed the boys.
“Excellent,” murmured the maid. “I shall make a batch of ginger biscuits to seal the pledge.”
Charlotte rose. “I need to go to the docklands tonight and have a word with Annie Wright. I expect to be back before dawn.”
“The porridge should be ready by the time you’ve changed your plumage to become Magpie,” said McClellan. “One should never square off against the enemy on an empty stomach.”
* * *
The Great Fog, which had gripped the city since the beginning of the year, seemed to hang heavy over the deserted warehouses, despite the fitful breeze blowing in from the river.
Slowing her steps, Charlotte moved cautiously through the gloom, searching for a glimmer of light in the surrounding darkness.
Perhaps it was the talk of knives and murder that had her nerves on edge.
A prickling of foreboding teased at the nape of her neck, and every little skitter and rattle from alleyways set her heart to thudding against her ribs.
At last, a creeping turn brought her down to the wharves, and she spotted the glow of the Ship’s Lantern up ahead.
Charlotte pushed through the tavern’s door and was immediately enveloped in the sweaty fugue of stale ale and unwashed bodies.
A merchant ship must have sailed in on the earlier flood tide, for the taproom was packed with a raucous crowd of warrant officers, who were drinking, laughing .
. . and groping at the passing serving wenches.
Slipping into a shadowed niche, she squinted through the haze of smoke, watching and waiting....
The minutes slid by, but with no sign of Annie Wright.
Charlotte waited until one of the kitchen girls cut toward the kitchen with a tray of empty mugs, and darted out to block her path.
“I’m looking for Annie,” she murmured.
The girl paused to rebalance her load. “Annie musta done a runner. She ain’t shown up fer work in three days.”
“Any idea where she might have gone?”
“Naw.” The girl scowled. “Why ye asking?”
“I’m a friend. It’s important that I find her.”
“Yeah?” A frown pinched the girl’s flushed face. “Annie suddenly seems te have friends crawling like rats outta the sewers.”
A frisson of alarm slithered down Charlotte’s spine. “Have there been others asking for her?”
The girl retreated a step. “Like I said, I dunno nuffink.” Charlotte muttered a thanks and turned away, but not before she saw the girl sidle over to the bar counter and exchange a hurried whisper with the man behind it.
Damnation. She ducked out into the night, cursing her own stupidity in letting Annie slip through her fingers without pressing her for answers regarding the murder. The barmaid had scarpered, and Charlotte didn’t need a mathematical Engine to compute the chances of finding her again.
They were virtually nil.