CHAPTER 23 #2
The sudden sound of footsteps on the cobblestones froze him in midsentence.
Three men rounded a pile of coiled hawsers and headed for where the Baltimore Clipper sat at its moorings.
As they passed the stacked casks, the one closest to Tyler and Hawk caught his boot on an uneven edge of stone and stumbled.
“Tollpatsch,” he muttered.
Eyes widening, Hawk sucked in an involuntary breath.
Tyler quickly pressed a hand over the boy’s mouth as one of the man’s companions—a Cornishman, by the sound of his accent—reacted with a brusque laugh. “Have a care, mein Herr One must have steady footing around ships.” Another laugh. “Along with steady nerves.”
“I think the steadiness of my nerves is not open to question, Captain Lyman,” retorted Mein Herr.
“Ah, but poison is a gentleman’s weapon,” said the third man. He was an American. “Unlike me, you’ve yet to get your hands really dirty.”
“And there is a great deal of dirty work left before our plans all come to fruition,” Lyman pointed out.
“As an expert in botany,” snapped Mein Herr, “I have a great deal of experience in getting my hands dirty.”
More laughter.
Lyman took a flint and steel from his pocket, along with a thin cheroot, and struck a spark to his tobacco.
“Let us hope you’re right in your surmise, and that Becton sent his precious specimen to Professor Murray at St. Andrews.
” He blew out a plume of silvery smoke and watched it dissolve in the breeze.
“Otherwise, you’ll have wasted a great deal of money in hiring us. ”
“I’m sure of it. I overheard Lord Wrexford’s fiancée and her brother telling Sir Robert about how Becton and Professor Murray were good friends who exchanged both specimens and papers. I’m willing to wager a fortune—”
“You already have,” interjected Lyman.
“Yes, and mark my words, it will prove well worth it, for I’m positive Professor Murray has it,” continued Mein Herr.
“He’ll be delighted to welcome fellow botanists, especially as we tell him that we took it upon ourselves to personally deliver this current shipment of plants from the Royal Botanic Gardens.
Once we gain access to his conservatory, we’ll force him to turn over the specimen and formula.
And from there, it’s clear sailing to Hamburg. ”
“Making a fortune depends on the fact that no one but us knows the identity of the plant or recipe for the formula,” the third man pointed out.
“No one will,” replied Mein Herr. “It goes without saying that Professor Murray can’t be left alive.”
“Well, then,” said Lyman, after tossing the butt of the cheroot into the water. “Let us get on with sowing the seeds to becoming very rich men.”
As the scuff of their steps on the brine-dark wooden wharf receded, Tyler released his hold on Hawk.
“That was him!” whispered the boy. “The one they called Mein Herr said tollpatsch!”
Tyler frowned in confusion.
“Tollpatsch” repeated Hawk. “That’s what the man said—the one who threw the poisoned glass into the plants, where I was hiding on the night of Mr. Becton’s murder.”
The valet’s face went pale as he realized the import of what Hawk had said. “You’re absolutely sure, lad?”
Hawk gave a solemn nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Then that means . . .” Tyler hesitated. “Then that means we now know the identity of the killer.”
“Y-You recognized him?”
“Aye, lad. I caught a good glimpse of his face, as well as recognizing his voice,” replied the valet grimly.
He darted a look at the Baltimore Clipper.
“And you heard what he said. I think there’s not a shadow of a doubt that Becton’s specimen is currently aboard Lyman’s ship.
” A pause. “Though, thank God, they don’t know that. ”
“Please, sir. We need to let Wrexford know.” Hawk tugged on the valet’s coat. “Now!”
Tyler shot an uncertain look at the river and its eddying currents.
“I agree that we need to let him know. The tide has just changed, and will be against them heading out to sea for some hours . . .” He rubbed at his chin as he mulled over what to do.
“And yet, there’s always the chance that they might decide to move the specimen to some other place . . .”
For the moment, all appeared quiet aboard the Baltimore Clipper. The deck and rigging were clear of any crew.
Tyler’s near-silent sigh twined with the swirls of mists blowing in from the river.
“I’ll stay here and keep watch on the ship.
You run to the office of Nereid and Neptune Shipping.
Let Sheffield or Lady Cordelia know that we’ve discovered the identity of the killer.
” He whispered a name. “And tell them to send word to Wrexford as quickly as possible.”
* * *
Wrexford slowed his steps as he reached the end of the alley. It opened onto a cobbled carriageway that fronted a cluster of brick warehouses. On the far side, narrow cart paths cut between the building, creating a spiderweb of ins and outs.
Just waiting to entrap an unwary fly.
He hesitated. Right or left? A number of small offices were scattered among the storage areas—the sort of places where one could hire a few fellows to move small loads of cargo, row a wherry across the river . . . or perform other tasks for which no questions were asked.
With nothing to go on, Wrexford decided that he and Charlotte had little choice but to start at one end and make a methodical search of the area.
And pray that they found Sheffield and Raven before they met up with Daggett.
The first cart path was deserted, save for a few feral cats scrounging for scraps among a pile of broken crates.
As he turned down the second one, Charlotte right at his heels, several shadowy figures standing outside a half-open door quickly disappeared inside.
The earl ignored the rusty snick of the lock.
None of the shapes had matched the silhouettes he sought.
As he hurried through a passageway that connected to the next cart path, the scuff of steps—faint but unmistakable—caught his ear. He waved for Charlotte to halt.
Then, edging forward, Wrexford ventured a peek around the corner. His movements had been carefully controlled, stirring not a whisper of air . . .
Still, one of the two figures standing up ahead spun around and dropped down to a crouch.
“Throw that rock at me, Weasel, and you’ll be nursing a sore bum for the next fortnight,” warned the earl as he hurried to join Raven and Sheffield.
“Don’t ring a peal over the lad’s head,” responded his friend. “I asked him to—”
“Shhhh,” warned Charlotte as she darted out from her hiding place. “Let us find a more private place in which to talk.”
Wrexford quickly moved to one of the locked doors of the storage areas and pulled a steel pick from inside his boot. The catch released, and he motioned for the others to step inside. A tug pulled the door shut behind him, leaving them shrouded in darkness.
Which was all for the best, he thought. At the moment, Sheffield and Raven would not wish to see his expression.
“Now, would you care to tell me what in the bloody name of Satan, the two of you are doing?”
It was said softly, but Sheffield wasn’t fool enough to mistake the depth of the earl’s fury. He shifted his stance, unconsciously shielding Raven from the earl’s verbal wrath.
“Before you explode, Wrex, please let me explain. During my rounds of the gaming hells last night, I heard some talk that Daggett had been spotted around the docks. It occurred to me that as he had double-crossed DeVere and Quincy, he likely had made a deal with new partners—”
“So you decided to confront him?” demanded Wrexford.
“Well, not precisely. I’m not that stupid,” replied his friend. “I merely wished to follow him and ascertain with whom he was meeting.”
“Seeing as you’re such a smart fellow, what were you planning to do when Daggett spotted you?” His voice was sharp with sarcasm. “Expect Raven to stick a knife in the captain’s leg?”
Sheffield said nothing. Thankfully, Charlotte remained silent as well. He was in no mood for arguments.
“Sir—” began Raven.
“Bite your tongue, Weasel! I don’t want to hear another word out of you,” cut in the earl. The realization of how close Sheffield and Raven had come to disaster was like a spark, igniting his anger to a fiercer burn. “You ought to have better sense than to lead a lamb to slaughter.”
Raven refused to be silenced. “Sir, sir! You can birch me from here to Hades if you wish. But do it later!” He locked eyes with the earl. “We know where Daggett is right now, and if we don’t move quickly, we might not have another chance to see what he’s up to.”
Wrexford hesitated, but only for an instant. “Very well, let us not allow him to slip through our fingers.” He cracked open the door and checked up and down the cart path. “But the three of you are to do exactly as I order, or there will be hell to pay.”
“Understood, Wrex,” said Sheffield, pausing for a heartbeat on his way out to touch the earl’s arm. “I would never—never—have let the boy come to any harm.”
Wrexford let out a gruff sigh. “And what about you? Do you think the idea of you confronting a vicious killer doesn’t make my blood run cold?”
“Ah, but think of all the expensive bottles of brandy and port that you would save with my demise.”
“Arse,” muttered Wrexford, causing them both to smile.
“Pssst,” hissed Raven. “Follow me.”
The boy wove his way through the maze of byways, bringing them closer and closer to the far end of the tidal basin.
As they approached a chandlery specializing in flour and biscuits for long voyages, Raven crept close to a jumble of barrels.
A ragged urchin crawled out from his hiding place, and after exchanging a few words with Raven, he darted off.
“Daggett is still inside,” whispered Raven, on returning to where the others had taken cover.
Wrexford surveyed the surroundings. “I’ve an idea.
” He pointed to a narrow gap between two of the nearby buildings on the other side of the ship chandlery.
“There are only two pathways that will return Daggett to the main part of the dockyards. I’m going to hide in the gap, and when Daggett comes out, I want the three of you to begin an argument here.
And do it loudly. My guess is, he’ll choose to avoid a scene and come my way. ”
“And if he doesn’t?” asked Sheffield.
“Then let him go,” answered the earl. “One of Raven’s friends will help us pick up his trail.”
Sheffield nodded. “Understood.”
“And you, Weasel?”
Raven made a mulish face, but signaled his agreement.
Charlotte nodded without a challenge, though a flicker of fear betrayed how little she liked the idea.
“Then let us take up our positions. And hope that the tide is finally turning in our favor.”