Page 41 of The Moonstone Pirate
But he knew the smuggling activity had stopped once he had purchased the property. Those caves were his now to do with as he wished.
He meant to use them for his own smuggling operation…by order of the Crown.
He found the harbor master, a jovial man by the name of Charles Wheatley, seated in his office. Draco introduced himself. By the time they were through with their small talk, Malcolm had arrived, and they got down to business. “The logbooks are all here on the bookshelf, my lord,” Wheatley said. “Take your time. Look through as many as you need. I’m available if you have any questions.”
Draco thanked him and immediately set to work.
It did not take him long to find out which of the Irishman’s ships had called in at Moonstone Landing. It was his newest, theDrogheda.
Searching back through more of the harbor logs, Draco found this ship had been here last July and returned again in April of this year. On last year’s visit, and again this year, the vessel had not remained moored for more than a day. No doubt it was to avoid paying higher docking fees, but the Irishman must also have wanted to avoid attention.
TheDroghedawas due back here at the end of July, for Draco had arranged to meet its captain. This was something he did not care to let anyone in on yet. He had taken pains to set up a meeting with the Irishman and offer his caves to store therebel guns purely for the purpose of inserting himself between McTavish’s smuggling operation and the rebel plotters.
His role was to set himself up as the intermediary. Other Crown agents were then to follow the men who picked up the guns from his cave and find out where they were delivering the weapons. But Draco was worried. He had gotten the names sooner than expected, and none of the Crown agents were in place yet.
This meant he might have to follow those rebel operatives himself. With luck, he might also find names of the higher-ups in this plot. However, he was not going to put his life and this entire operation at risk to pursue that information. Other Crown agents had already been assigned to this task.
The murder on his property now complicated everything.
He had grown friendly with Sean McTavish over the years, but privateers were for the most part solitary creatures. He wasn’t certain how deeply this Irishman figured in the rebel plot, assuming hewasinvolved beyond selling guns and asking no questions. It was a foolish and dangerous undertaking, and McTavish ought to have known better than to get caught up in something this serious.
Draco thanked Wheatley for his time and then walked to the Kestrel Inn for a word with Thaddius.
“How may I help you, my lord?” the innkeeper asked in a whisper, his expression serious instead of his usual, eager-to-please smile. “I’ve told no one but my uncle about your letters, and only told him because he was working with you on this investigation. But my lips are now permanently sealed.”
“See that they are.” No doubt his constable uncle had impressed upon him the importance of keeping his mouth shut about Draco’s correspondence, but had the warning come too late? Thaddius was assuring him all had been kept confidential, but this inn was a hive of activity, and Thaddius could not havekept eyes on the mail pouch at all times. “I would like to look at your guest registries for the past three years.”
If the request surprised Thaddius, he did not show it. “Of course, my lord. Come into my office and make yourself comfortable at my desk while you search through them. Would you care for something to eat? I’ll have one of my staff bring you whatever you’d like.”
Draco hadn’t stopped to eat yet, but declined the offer, since he was eager to review the guest registries undisturbed. He did not want the inn’s staff wandering in, seeing what he was doing, and blabbing to anyone who would listen. “Perhaps later.”
“Well, you just say the word, my lord. We are here to serve.”
“Thaddius, no one is to know I have seen these ledgers,” Draco said sternly.
“Absolutely, my lord. I shall be mum about the mail and the ledgers.” Thaddius closed the door behind him and returned to his duties.
The scent of lamb stew and warm bread fresh out of the oven drifted in from the dining hall and made Draco’s mouth water. He ignored the groan of his stomach, for there was still too much to do, and he would have a fine meal later at the Burness residence.
Setting about to work, he soon found the names of the two lords Imogen had drawn with the Irishman. Lord Randolph Healey was the wayward second son of the Marquess of Cardway, a stern man who had probably cut off his son’s allowance due to his profligate ways. Lord Richard Burke was the fifth son of the Duke of Slough, another stern man who must have done the same to his son. Both Healey and Burke were known in London for their wastrel reputations and always being short of funds.
Draco used stationery from the inn to write another letter to the Home Office, this time making a more precise connectionbetween these lords and the rebel cause, the bank account used for funding the smuggled guns, and documenting their meetings with the Irishman from the harbor master’s logs. Both men had come to the Kestrel Inn last July in exactly the same week as the Irishman’s ship arrived, and both had done the same again this April when theDroghedacalled into port for the second time. Here they were again, having arrived the day before Draco’s party and scheduled to stay at the Kestrel Inn through the end of July, when he was to meet with the Irishman.
Would they sit in on the meeting? Or would the Irishman see them afterward?
Whatever their plan, this was too much of a coincidence to be overlooked.
Upon finishing his search through the registers, he summoned Thaddius. “Do you recall these gentlemen? They are staying with you now.”
“Indeed, my lord. I remember them from last year, too. They spent much of their time exploring the countryside, always returning quite fatigued. We often get explorers here, but I recall these two quite vividly because their actions felt…odd. They were not dressed for this sort of excursion, nor were they the ‘fresh country air’ types of gentlemen. They asked a lot of questions about caves. It did not feel to me as though they were merely touring, and yet they were not explorers either. I couldn’t figure them out. And now there’s been a death at the caves near your home. Are these two men somehow connected to it?”
Draco raked a hand through his hair. “This is a serious investigation, and I am looking at everyone who attended the masquerade ball.”
Thaddius frowned. “Should I know anything more?”
“There is nothing more I can tell you at the moment. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, report it to me or your uncle immediately. Donottry to stop these lords on your own. Donotpoke around their rooms or ask them questions. Donotask anyone on your staff to poke around or ask questions. This is of vital importance, Thaddius. Do you understand me?”
The innkeeper nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
