Page 24 of The Time for Love
The lad did his best to comply with the first part of that order. The second part resulted in a torrent of words. “A dray. Piled with pig iron from Atlas. Coming to us.” The lad paused to haul in another breath. “A wheel fell off as they were coming around the corner of West and Rockingham, and the load shifted and came off!”
Sophy paled. “Good Lord!” She started for the front door, then stopped and whirled. “We need to get Oakshot. And Hinckley, too.” She rushed for the door into the yard.
Martin followed as she went out of the door and ran to the receiving office, calling for Hinckley as she went.
Men came out of the shed, then Hinckley was lumbering their way.
Sophy reached the receiving office and raced through the open yard door.
Grim-faced, Oakshot met her. “I heard.” He held open the front door, then followed her onto Rockingham Street.
With Hinckley and Oliver and several of the men from the main shed as well as two of the older receiving clerks, Martin was right behind Sophy and Oakshot as they ran down the street toward a scene of pandemonium several blocks away.
Essentially, the situation was as the lad had described it. What he hadn’t mentioned were the hundred or so people gathered all around due to the fact that the busy intersection, on one of the main roads leading into the town center, was now blocked.
Along with Oliver, Hinckley, Oakshot, and the men from the works, Martin helped clear the heavy bars of pig iron from the main thoroughfare. One of the receiving clerks ran back to the works and drove one of the works’ drays down to pick up the bars.
Sophy had taken charge of seeing the shaken driver and his mate settled on a stoop and supplied with mugs of tea, brought out by a local shopkeeper eager to do his part in dealing with the catastrophe.
Working alongside Oliver, Martin helped free the pair of heavy Clydesdales from the wreckage and handed them into the care of the steelworks’ crew. Then, again with Oliver, Martin used his charm to calm and reassure those travelers and locals inconvenienced and inclined to be tetchy. Eventually, Hinckley and Oakshot had the roadway clear again, with the pig iron rumbling up Rockingham Street and the half-wrecked dray drawn up onto the pavement, as out of the way as it could be.
Sophy went into the nearby shop to return the mugs. Martin seized the moment to speak with the dray driver and his mate, then Sophy returned and urged the shaken pair into Hinckley and Oakshot’s care.
With the rest of the men from the steelworks going ahead, striding back to their work, and Hinckley, Oakshot, and the driver and his mate trailing more slowly behind, Martin walked beside Sophy up Rockingham Street. Oliver kept pace on Sophy’s other side.
Martin glanced across at Oliver and noted his pensive expression.
They returned to the main office, and Sophy gave Harvey and Mildred a pared-down account of what had occurred and asked Harvey to send a messenger to notify the Atlas Works of the accident. Then Sophy requested tea. She glanced at Martin and Oliver and ordered three cups and, after Mildred assured her she’d have it ready in two winks, led the way into her office.
Oliver met Martin’s gaze rather challengingly. Martin’s lips quirked, and he waved Oliver ahead of him into the room.
Oliver entered and made for the chair he’d previously occupied.
Martin shut the door and, this time, claimed the second armchair before the desk as, behind it, Sophy slumped into her chair.
They all sat for a second, thinking of what had just occurred, then Oliver blew out a breath. He looked at Sophy. “Was that another of these ‘accidents’ you mentioned earlier?”
Sophy glanced at Martin, but he gave her no direction. It was up to her to decide whether or not to include Oliver, although he hoped she did. Oliver had different contacts than Martin and might also have a different perspective on the situation. At this point, they needed all the help they could get.
Sophy returned her gaze to Oliver and slowly, reluctantly, nodded. “I suspect it was.”
Martin stirred. “I had a look at the Atlas dray—at the wheel that came off—and had a quiet word with the driver and his mate. The long and short of it is that both they and I believe the forward offside wheel nut had been deliberately loosened. It stayed on well enough for them to drive the dray into town, but they told me that corner—at West and Rockingham—is the sharpest and tightest they have to get around, so the pressure on the offside wheel as they make the turn is greatest as they go around there, and that’s where the nut came off, and the wheel shattered, the dray tipped, and the load came off.”
“So this was planned by someone who knew what they were doing,” Oliver said. “Someone who knew about heavily laden drays and the route the men took.” He looked at Sophy. “Where did the dray come from?”
“The Atlas Works. That’s out to the northeast of the town.”
“More to the point,” Martin said, “this accident, while a shock and an inconvenience as it is, could have been a disaster. Someone could have been walking along the street when the load came off.”
“Someone might have been killed.” Sophy’s sober and serious expression suggested she’d already grasped that. “That would have been dreadful for the Atlas Works and for us as well.”
Oliver shook himself. “Just thinking of that is appalling. Who would do such a thing?” He appealed to Martin. “Who would take such a cavalier risk? And for what? Why?”
Grimly, Martin nodded. “That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out.” He paused, then added, “These inexplicable accidents have been occurring for over two weeks.”
“And clearly”—Sophy gestured—“whoever it is doesn’t plan to stop.”
Oliver frowned. “Have you received any demands?” He looked from Sophy to Martin. “I mean, it’s intimidation, isn’t it?”
