Page 34 of Ashes To Ashes
"No."
Lincoln cocked the pistol.
"Don't shoot!" Daley squeezed his eyes shut. His moustache almost disappeared up his nostrils. When the gun didn't go off, he cracked open one eye. "Is it me you want or the man who hired me?"
"You're not important to me."
Daley blew out a breath and stood a little straighter. "It were a blood nut what paid me. He told me who to shoot and where to find him. I didn't know it was the circus strongman, did I? Are you with them? Are you one of them circus freaks?"
"Do you know the redheaded man's name?"
"No, but I know what he really looks like and he ain't no true blood nut. Nor a toff, neither." His lips curled into a vicious smile. "He wore a disguise. He's got short, brown hair and don't need the glasses he wore when I met him."
"Where can I find him?"
He shrugged.
Lincoln pointed the gun at his head and Daley shut his eyes again and tried to shrink away. "You must have followed him to see him remove his disguise," Lincoln said. "Tell me where I can find him."
Daley went to shift his weight only to receive a rude reminder of his injury. He grunted in pain. A waxy sheen covered his pale face.
Lincoln pressed the barrel of the gun harder into Daley's temple. He was so close to victory he could taste it, but he had to be careful not to show how much he needed this information. "If you remain silent much longer, I'll kill you. If you tell me where to find this man, I'll let you go and you can leave London alive. That's your choice. You have three seconds in which to make it. One. Two."
"All right!" Daley screwed up his face. Despite the cold, sweat beaded at his hairline. "I saw how much ready he carried on him, so I thought I could relieve him of some of it. To give to the poor, see."
Gus snorted. "We ain't stupid."
Daley cleared his throat. "I followed his coach to Kensington. It left him at the Queens Arms, and he walked down the mews. I followed. When he thought no one was watching, he removed his wig, glasses and some padding round his middle under his clothes and stored them at the back of one of the stables. I was so surprised I forgot why I followed him. By the time I remembered, he were climbing the ladder to the rooms above."
"Not the main house?"
"No. I thought he'd come down again, but he didn't. His lamp went out and that were it. No one stirred again 'til morning."
"You stayed the whole night?"
"Aye. I were curious, see. I asked the stable lad who the cove was, and he said Mr. Thomas Rampling."
"Is he a servant?"
"No, just a cove that knows the coachman."
"Did he have anything to do with the household?"
"Don't know. I didn't ask."
"Did you ask if he'd had contact with others aside from the stable staff?"
"Why would I?"
"Who did he pay you to kill next?"
"A woman named Metzger. Lives at forty-four Brick Lane, Spitalfields."
Lincoln lowered the gun. The name was familiar. She also had a file in the archives.
Daley's tongue darted out and he licked his lips. "Who're you? Why'd you want to know all this?"
Lincoln nodded at Seth and Gus to let Daley go then walked away. He didn't look back, but he heard Daley shout for Mrs. Fenton to unlock the door.
