Chapter 17
Phillip had hoped to sleep a few hours but was unable to stop his mind from running through what was going to happen that night.
There were a thousand outcomes, most of which were not good for someone, although he still wasn’t sure what he’d be facing and who would be at his side.
His stomach didn’t allow for more than two thick slices of Eliza’s bread with a slice of ham between them.
Uncle was eating a full meal, Miriam beside him, holding young Frank Moulder’s hand.
Phillip gave Sarah the key to the strongbox in his room where the deeds and his will were kept. She pulled a chain from over her head and added it beside a locket that had been their mother’s. She tugged on his arm and led him to the hallway. She was white-faced and dry-eyed.
“You don’t have to do this, Phillip. Timothy would not want you to risk your life. I’ve resigned myself. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I shall forget him. Don’t go.”
Phillip pulled her into his arms and laid his cheek on top of her head. She’d already said the same thing several times, but he could not be short with her. She was terrified. “I do have to go. I have to get a thirteen-year-old girl out of a brothel. I have to clear Timothy’s name.”
“Why? Why can’t the police go? Tell them everything. Let someone else worry.”
He shook his head slowly. “You know I can’t.
There’s police involved, and I don’t really know who to trust other than Hendricks and Captain Murphy.
Timothy is my best friend, has been all my life.
I can’t let it stand as is. Youngman’s dead.
Frank’s father is dead. I’m going to get the girl out, track down Josephine Button’s killer, and see Timothy freed. ”
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest, making him recall the extraordinary words Virginia Wiest had said to him a few hours ago.
“I love you too. I’ve got to write a note to Mr. Wiest to guard Virginia and Miss Hughes. Turnbull and Crimlock will be with me.”
“Give it to me when you’re done. One of the Shoeman children will get it to Shellington.”
Phillip and Uncle sat on the back stoop in the dark after eleven in the evening, the house locked up tight behind them, Willis guarding the doors.
The night was silent other than the cicada’s song as both men chose to concentrate on the upcoming confrontation.
Both were armed with guns and knives in their pockets and other knives down the side of their boots.
Both were dressed in black with dark caps over their hair, nearly identical.
It was near half past the hour when a carriage came down the alleyway.
Uncle climbed up with the driver as Littleman put down the window.
“Thomas is at the barn across the way from Bruner’s. Has been since before sundown. Said there’s less guards than usual and he even saw Bruner himself climb into a carriage.”
“They’re looking for a showdown at Shelly’s.”
“That’s my guess. I’ll send them your way as fast as I can.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Leave it to me, Brown. Just get ready to get the girl and get out before the rest of his gang shows up.”
“I never thanked you for this. I suppose I should.”
Littleman laughed. “You don’t owe me anything. Not even a halfhearted thank-you.”
She closed the dark curtain and tapped on the ceiling of her carriage. Phillip watched the carriage go until the darkness had swallowed it up.
Phillip made his way on foot to the barn across from Bruner’s headquarters.
He had wanted to ride Daisy but knew his role tonight was about stealth, not brute force.
He followed the narrow street leading to the bay, staying as close to the buildings as possible until he saw the words Fancy Imports, the white paint glowing in the moonlight on the warehouse across the street.
He stopped when he came to a barn, half its roof missing and the sliding doors rusted into a closed position with only a narrow gap to squeeze through.
He let his eyes adjust to the dim light and saw a ladder propped against a loft.
He climbed it and found McDonald stretched out, eyes closed.
“I heard you coming a block away, Brown.”
There were a few boards pulled away on the wall facing the street. He walked to the spot and looked out in the moonlight. “Have you seen anyone?”
“Six, by my count. One at each corner and two at the door.”
“What’s the plan?”
McDonald pulled out a pocket watch and leaned into the moonlight to read the face. “Half past twelve, you and I are going to rid ourselves of at least two of them, maybe a third one if we’re quiet.”
Phillip turned his head and stared down at the big man. “I don’t want to kill the guards unless we have to. They’re just getting a few coins for a night’s work. Probably don’t know anything about the rest of it.”
McDonald sat up and leaned back against the wall, making the boards creak with his weight. “Never took you for a soft touch, Brown.”
“I killed plenty of men in the War Between the States. Fathers, brothers, sons. Don’t want to do it anymore unless it’s him or me that’s going to die,” Phillip said.
“Just like that night that Timothy and I got the captain and the lieutenant out of your cellar. We didn’t kill that man watching your back door.
Just knocked him out with some chloroform. ”
“Don’t get yourself in twist. Look in that bag. There’s the chloroform and some rope.”
“It’s possible the captain and the lieutenant will show up here tonight.”
“Is that a warning? Maybe so. But it weren’t me that beat that captain half to death. It was Daniels. He don’t work for Missus anymore. Left for somewhere out west.”
“But you were the one who beat the lieutenant.”
“Yeah, I did. Got a few good punches in. He broke his own arm,” McDonald said with a half-smile. “He tried to take the iron bar out of Daniels’s hands. Big mistake. Daniels walloped him.”
“He was probably trying to save the life of his captain.”
“Could be,” McDonald said and put a finger to his lips. “Somebody’s coming.”
Phillip could see two figures step through the opening and heard Hendricks’s voice. “Brown?”
“Up here.”
Hendricks and Captain Murphy climbed up the ladder and glanced McDonald’s way.
“Who’s this?” the captain asked.
“Thomas McDonald,” Phillip said. “Mrs. Littleman’s man.”
Two more men squeezed through the boards from the street. Captain Reed and Lieutenant Randolph climbed up. Phillip could see Randolph eyeing McDonald, but McDonald gave no indication he’d noticed. He pulled his pocket watch out and leaned to the opening.
“It’s about the time the fireworks go off,” he said to the blank stares from the men around him. “We wait five minutes and then take care of the guards. Only brought two bottles of chloroform. We’ll have to share.”
McDonald opened his bag and pulled out lengths of rope.
Ten blocks away, Littleman turned to Patrick Brown. “It’s time.”
The two had been watching Shelly’s from behind a parked wagon stopped across the street that one of Littleman’s men had moved there earlier in the day.
Every window was lit up, and they could hear music and some laughter coming from inside, probably from a few open sashes.
She glanced over her shoulder to the house behind her, thankfully abandoned, and nodded.
Several men came out of their hiding places, fanning out in front of the building.
“Are you covering the back of the building?” Patrick asked.
She shook her head. “I want them to have a clear getaway with the girl.”
Littleman stood and put her cape behind her shoulders, pulled a gun from her pocket, and put an arm around Patrick’s neck. She held the gun to his temple. They walked across the street, she slightly behind him, stopping at the walkway to the door.
“Bruner!” she shouted. “Bruner! I’ve got a trade for you!”
Someone shouted for the music to stop. A window on the first floor opened and curtains fluttered through, although there was no one visible.
“Littleman?”
“It’s me, Bruner. I’ve got a trade I think you’re going to like.”
There was laughter from the open window and Bruner showed his face, leaning on the sill. “What could you possibly . . . ? Is that?”
“I want the dock that sits between us. On Philpot Street.”
“I’ve controlled that dock for twenty years. Not giving it up.”
Littleman started to back up toward the wagon. “Fine, then. Never mind.”
“Wait a second,” he shouted. “I’ve got plenty of girls who’d be a fine addition for you and turn a hefty profit. How about six of them?”
“Don’t run prostitution, Bruner. You know that. Never mind.”
“Wait! Littleman! Wait!” he shouted as she backed up closer to the wagon. “I’ll split it with you. January to June, it’s yours.”
“I’ve got to think about that,” she said.
“Give me Brown in the meantime, and you take as long as you want to consider my offer,” Bruner said.
“No chance. When I get an agreement on paper that the dock is mine for six months of the year, I’ll give you Brown.”
“Sure, no problem, Littleman. Give me a minute.”
The window closed, and Littleman turned her head to the men in the shadows behind her. “He’s coming out here with his men. Get ready.”
Littleman moved Patrick away from the wagon as her men surged forward. Bruner’s men erupted from windows and doors, shouting curses and threats. Bruner was still inside near the door and called for quiet. Guns hadn’t fired yet from either group.
“Got your contract, Littleman. Give me Brown,” he said and held a paper out the door, shaking it as he did. “Just like you wanted. The dock is yours from January to June.”
“Send one of your boys over with it,” she shouted and turned her head to several men standing near. “Go as soon as his man approaches.”
Bruner handed the paper to someone standing on the stoop. “Take it to Mrs. Littleman.”