Page 99 of The Secrets of Lord Grayson Child
Donaldson glanced at Gray, then looked at Drake. “I hail from Dover. The southern end of Victoria Park Terrace…are you saying that Duvall and his friend are planning to blow up a house that’s more or less in the shadow of the Dover guns?”
Drake pulled an unusually expressive face. “That’s how it looks, and you can imagine the chaos such an explosion will cause.” His expression sobered, and he shook his head. “There’s no help for it—I’ll have to remain in town to ensure the necessary warnings are issued to all the right places.” To Gray, he said, “I’ll see who I can find and send them down to help keep an eye out in Dover, in case Duvall slips through our fingers here in town.”
“But,” Gray said, “what are the odds Duvall will have seenThe Crierby now?”
“Indeed!” Izzy rose to her feet. “Will he run, do you think?”
“Or,” Hennessy said, pushing out of the armchair, “will he attempt to carry out his mission before he runs? His target’s in Dover, after all.”
Drake softly swore. He stared unseeing at the desk for a moment, then said, “We can’t take the risk of assuming he’ll just run. In fact, we have to assume he’s either on his way to Dover already—which means I have to get to Whitehall and get an immediate warning sent to the Dover telegraph station—or he’s rushing around in town, getting his explosives together before heading down. It depends on how advanced in his planning he was. Our best-case scenario is that he hasn’t readThe Crierand is still in town, obliviously whiling away a normal Saturday.”
Drake looked at Baines and Littlejohn. “Can I leave it to you to lay Duvall by the heels?”
Baines, Littlejohn, and everyone else—including Digby—grimly assured Drake he could.
“We’ve more than enough to take him up for Quimby’s murder,” Baines pointed out. “We’ll get straight along to his house. It being Saturday, if he hasn’t taken flight already, most likely he’ll be there, and we can ask him to come along with us to the Yard.”
Drake nodded. “When you get him there—if you get him there—keep him there. If anyone makes noises about releasing him on any grounds whatsoever, refer them to me.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
Littlejohn had been leafing through his notebook. He raised his head. “Where does he live? Anyone know?”
They all looked at each other, then faintly exasperated, Drake said, “Come with me. I have to go to Whitehall. We can stop in at the Board of Trade, and I’ll persuade someone to tell us.”
Drake made for the door, and everyone rushed to follow.
Gray saw Donaldson summon Digby with a jerk of his head and hurry out. Gray fetched his and Izzy’s coats and her bonnet and helped her on with her coat before shrugging into his.
Her reticule dangling from her wrist, still tying her bonnet strings, she hurried into the foyer, where Drake was impatiently waiting. He saw them and turned to the door. “Let’s go.”
Drake held the door for Izzy and Gray and followed them out. Baines, Littlejohn, and Hennessy were on their heels as, with Drake and Izzy, Gray strode quickly down to Bernard Street.
A clatter of footsteps behind them had him glancing back to see Donaldson and Digby hurrying to catch up while carrying a tripod, camera, and canvas satchel.
Their procession reached Woburn Place, and between them, they hailed three hackneys. Drake, Izzy, and Gray crammed into the first, Baines and Littlejohn shared the second, while Hennessy went with Donaldson and Digby in the third.
With Izzy tucked snugly beside him, Gray spent the time to Whitehall reviewing all they’d learned. The more he thought, the more concerned he became. Had Duvall seenThe Crier? So much depended on that. Ironic that the very publication that had brought them the information regarding Duvall might also alert him to impending exposure and push him into enacting his plan.
In Whitehall, Drake directed the jarvey to pull up at the curb outside one of the numerous government buildings. All three carriages halted, and everyone spilled out. Gray called to the jarveys to wait, and he and Izzy followed Drake into the building, which housed the Board of Trade.
Watching Drake wield his power among bureaucrats was a lesson in just how high in the pecking order he stood. In just a few minutes, he’d extracted Duvall’s address from a clerk, along with the information that Duvall hadn’t been rostered to work that day.
Drake turned to Gray and Izzy. Baines, Littlejohn, and the other three gathered around. “He lives in lodgings at Number sixteen, Adam Street. That’s south of the Strand, within easy walking distance of Whitehall and also Fleet Street.” Drake glanced round the circle of faces. “I’ll have to leave it to you to hunt him down. My first port of call has to be the telegraph office here, to send a warning to Dover. I’ll then have to make the rounds, alerting others in Whitehall as to what’s going on.” He met Gray’s eyes. “After that, I’ll see who I can find at Arthur’s and send them down to watch and wait at Dover.”
Gray understood that meant that Drake would recruit some of the younger members of their set—Drake’s brothers or Cynster cousins-in-law—who occasionally acted as his agents.
Apparently, Izzy understood that, too. “Excellent idea.”
“We’d best get off, then, and find this blighter.” Baines turned toward the street.
“Good luck!” Drake called as Gray, Izzy, and the other three followed Baines and Littlejohn down the long hall.
Without looking Drake’s way, Gray waved. When they reached the entrance, he glanced back, but Drake had vanished.
Gray led Izzy down the steps and helped her into the lead hackney. “Adam Street,” he called to the jarvey. “South off the Strand.”
The jarvey saluted with his whip. As soon as Gray sat, the jarvey set his horse trotting, heading for Trafalgar Square.
