CHAPTER 30 #2
“And at the first spurt of blood you’ll be a dead man,” replied the earl calmly. “As you see, you have more than one pistol pointed at your worthless carcass, and more than one finger just itching for a reason to pull the trigger.”
He allowed a pause. “However, I’m willing to negotiate.”
Taviot wet his lips. “What do you have in mind?”
“Simply release her, and you have my word as a gentleman that we won’t stop you from leaving.”
“Ha! The word of a gentleman isn’t worth any more than the spit and breath that forms it.”
“Not everyone is a soulless reptile who gladly slithers through the blood of others if it will bring him some profit,” replied Wrexford.
“Take the deal, Fenwick,” Lady Kirkwall counseled her brother. She sounded weary beyond words. “Enough violence has been done. I trust Lord Wrexford to keep his oath.”
“You’ve gone soft in the head,” snarled Taviot. “I need a better guarantee than that.”
“Very well,” answered the earl. “I’ll allow you to retreat with the dowager to the rear door. Leave her there, and you are free to make your escape.” To Lady Kirkwall and Maitland, he added, “I don’t give a rat’s arse about you two. Go or stay as you choose.”
Taviot hesitated.
“Otherwise, we are at a standoff,” said Wrexford, turning his attention back to Alison’s captor. “And I doubt Jarvis will wait very long for you to appear before steaming away to safety.”
Sweat was now beading on Taviot’s brow. “H-How do I know that you won’t come after me if I do what you ask?”
“Because,” said the earl, “you’re not worth the bit of lead it would take to put a period to your existence.
” He let silence linger between them before adding, “If I were you, I would listen to your sister. The longer you stay here, the greater the chances of the authorities arriving. And I doubt they will be as generous as I am in offering you a chance to escape.”
The knife blade, noted Charlotte, quivered as Taviot’s nerves began to fray. In contrast, Alison was sitting very still with an air of unruffled composure.
“Get up, Lady Peake.”
“To do so, I shall need the aid of my cane,” replied Alison, her voice a bit faint. “My legs aren’t as steady as they used to be, and this ordeal has taken a toll on my strength.”
“Give it to her, Elizabeth,” ordered Taviot.
Lady Kirkwall picked up the cane from atop a pile of crates and brought it over.
“T-Thank you,” said the dowager, twisting the stick between her tied hands as she cleared her throat with a cough.
Charlotte tensed as she thought that she heard a tiny metallic click. Wrexford’s expression remained unchanged, so perhaps she had been mistaken. Still, she kept her eyes riveted on Taviot. What mischief is he planning?
“Now, on your feet, Lady Peake.” Taviot punctuated his order with a shake to Alison’s shoulder.
“Undo her bonds, Fenwick!” snapped Lady Kirkwall. “You have her tied to the chair.”
Taviot sucked in a nervous breath. “Lower your weapon, Wrexford—and you, too, Sheffield.” His hand was shaking as he changed the angle of his blade. “I need to use my knife to cut away the ropes.”
“Let us all remain calm,” replied Wrexford as he complied and signaled for Sheffield to do the same.
Gulping in a ragged breath, Taviot sliced through the dowager’s bonds, careful to keep her as a shield so that the earl had no chance of taking a shot at him.
A craven coward as well as a traitor and swindler, thought Charlotte in disgust. She had encountered some truly evil people in the course of her previous investigations, but Taviot’s crimes touched a raw nerve.
Thoughts of violence were normally abhorrent to her, but she found herself gripped by a sudden visceral desire to see his blood spilled.
“I’ll need you to untie my hands so I can use my cane,” said Alison.
“Ye gods, I’ll do it.” Lady Kirkwall was still standing beside the chair. Leaning down, she worked the knots free, allowing the rope to drop to the stone flaggings, and helped the dowager stand. But rather than step away, she fixed her brother with an implacable stare.
“Enough, Fenwick.” As the whisper slipped from her lips, she tried to seize the hand holding the knife.
Taviot recoiled and managed to push her away. But the move had him off-balance for an instant—
A flash of steel! Charlotte eyes widened in shock as Alison twisted the knob of her cane and drew a thin steel sword from its ebony sheath.
Merciful heavens!
But before she could react, the dowager deftly executed a fencing two-step and evaded Taviot’s attempt to grab her.
Panicked, he lunged again.
Scooting back, Alison calmly stabbed him in the thigh and watched him fall to the floor, howling like a stuck pig.
For the next few moments, everything was a blur. Charlotte rushed to pull Alison to safety, Wrexford hurried to kick the fallen knife away from Taviot’s grasp, while Sheffield and McClellan raised their weapons to cover Lady Kirkwall and Maitland.
“Do something, Elizabeth!” screamed Taviot.
Lady Kirkwall slowly shook her head, her expression one of grim resolve. “No. It’s time to put an end to this madness, Fenwick. No more lies and prevarications. I intend to confess everything about what you and I have done.”
She closed her eyes for an instant. “I have sold my soul to protect the family name from scandal, only to find that the road to perdition is indeed a slippery slope. We have committed great evil and must pay—”
A gunshot rent the air, followed a fraction later by a second one.
Lady Kirkwall crumpled to the floor, shot by her brother.
“Damnation—I saw Taviot draw his pocket pistol, but he fired at his sister before I could react,” exclaimed McClellan, as she tossed aside her smoking weapon—she had, Charlotte noted, been the one to shoot Taviot—and rushed to tend to Lady Kirkwall.
Charlotte kept tight hold of Alison. “Is she . . .”
“She’s taken a bullet to the belly,” answered McClellan. She tugged off her shawl and pillowed it under the wounded lady’s head. “We need to send for Baz—immediately!”
“I’ll go,” volunteered von Münch. He and the Weasels had rushed into the room at the sound of gunfire. “The sailors will be more likely to take orders from me than from your urchins.”
“Make haste,” replied Wrexford, crouching down beside Taviot. “Kit, you had better go with him and explain to the officer in charge of the King’s Dockyard what is going on.”
As Sheffield and the librarian hurried away to recross the river, Charlotte settled Alison back in the chair, and the Weasels rushed to form a protective ring around her.
With myriad questions colliding inside her head, Charlotte hardly knew where to begin. First things first, she decided. “Is the miscreant dead?” she asked, keeping her voice pitched too low for Maitland to hear her.
“Yes.” Wrexford looked up from examining Taviot’s body. “The bullet pierced his sin-black heart.”
“One fewer devil treading this earth,” murmured Charlotte. A harsh sentiment perhaps, but she couldn’t muster a grain of sympathy for such a thoroughly despicable man.
Wrexford rose. “But an even worse one is still at large.”
Charlotte knew what he was going to say. And though it frightened her to death, she could not—she would not try to—stop him.
“And you’re going after him.”
“I am,” he replied.
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
He rose and went to take hold of Maitland. “For now, I feel beholden to lock you in the storage alcove until the authorities arrive.”
The inventor uttered no protest as Wrexford marched him to the far end of the room, where a door with a sturdy lock stood half-open. Head bowed, Maitland entered the darkened space. The earl turned the key and tossed it to Charlotte.
She pocketed it and followed him out the back door.
“I—I could come with you,” she stammered, catching him in a fierce hug.
“You need to stay here with Alison,” he replied. “And I think you know in your heart that this is something I must do on my own.”
“Be careful,” Charlotte whispered.
“Have no fear, my love.” He brushed a kiss to her brow before turning for the river. “Lucifer and all his legions couldn’t stop me from catching Jarvis and seeing that he’s finally made to answer for all his crimes.”