Page 106 of Where the Heart Leads
Her tone and manner, perfected over the years, had an instant effect. The boys’ heads came up; she beckoned, and three quickly headed her way. The other two followed more slowly.
The first three lined up before her. “Excellent.” She studied their faces, recognizing all three—the first three boys who’d been filched from under the Foundling House’s nose.
One, Fred Hachett, blinked large brown eyes up at her. “You’re the lady from the house. M’mum said you was supposed to fetch me, but ole Grimsby came instead.”
“Indeed—he stole you.” Penelope continued to smile, but the gesture now had an edge. “And so we’re taking you back, and sending him to prison.”
The boys glanced around at the bobbies pushing past, most heading out now the boys had been found and the villains caught.
“Were all these rozzers ’ere for us then?” one of the others asked.
Penelope racked her brain, and came up with a name. “Yes, Dan, they were. We’ve been hunting for you for weeks.”
The boys exchanged glances, as if impressed with their worth.
“Right, now.” Penelope beamed at the boys; she could barely believe that after all their searching, they had them back safe and sound. “We’ll be taking you to the Foundling House directly.” She shifted to catch the eyes of the last two boys, who continued to hang back.
Abruptly her heart sank. Sickeningly.
They should have been Dick and Jemmie. But they weren’t.
Seeing her staring, they ducked their heads.
After a moment, one peeked at her from under a grimy fringe. “What about us, then, miss? Tommy here and me—we weren’t s’pposed to go to any house.”
Penelope blinked; she struggled to think through the emotions careening around her mind. “No, but…you’re orphans now, aren’t you?”
Tommy and his friend exchanged glances, then nodded.
“In that case, you can come along, too. We can work out the details later, but there’s no need for you to go out on the streets. You can come along with Fred, Dan, and Ben, and we’ll get you all an excellent breakfast and a warm bed.”
The promise of food guaranteed the boys’ willingness to be transported wherever she wished.
She dragged in a huge breath. “But first, tell me…were there any other boys with you here? Ones who should have gone to the Foundling House?”
“You mean Dick and Jemmie.” Eyes now bright, eager to help, Fred nodded. “They’re here—leastways theywere,but they went out with Smythe yesterday evening and they ain’t come back.”
Leaving the five boys with Griselda, with strict orders to wait for her, Penelope ducked around milling bobbies and made her way to the stairs. She reached the foot as Miller came down. “I have to speak with Stokes and Adair—it’s urgent.”
Miller took in her tense expression. He glanced back up the stairs. “They’re coming down now, miss.”
Together with Miller, Penelope retreated to the room’s center as two heavily built bobbies appeared, leading an ordinary-looking man with his wrists in shackles.
Wally—she assumed it was he—looked confused. His hair stood on end, his clothes were rumpled; an expression of complete incomprehension filled his plain face. He gave the bobbies no trouble; they herded him to the side so others could come down the stairs.
Another two bobbies descended, this time leading a much older man. Grimsby. The heavy-jowled, large round head with its scraggly twists of lank gray hair Penelope had already seen. It sat atop hunched shoulders and a sunken chest. Grimsby might once have cut an imposing figure, but now he was old, weighed down with the years. Despite that, shrewd cunning glinted in his eyes as they darted about, taking in the boys and Griselda, the other bobbies, Miller—and Penelope.
She made him frown. Grimsby couldn’t place her.
Stokes and Barnaby were the last down the stairs.
The bobbies led Grimsby to the center of the cleared space, then halted him, turning him to face Stokes. Under Miller’s direction, more lanterns were gathered and perched about the area, flooding it with light.
Penelope grasped the moment; stepping forward, she caught Barnaby’s eye, touched Stokes’s sleeve to get his attention. Once both had turned to her, she spoke quietly. “Dick and Jemmie, the last two boys taken, aren’t here.” Both men immediately looked over at the boys. “Yes, there are five, but two aren’t ones we knew about. According to the others, Dick and Jemmie were here, but Smythe took them out yesterday, and hasn’t yet returned them.”
Stokes swore beneath his breath. He exchanged a glance with Barnaby, who also looked grim. “If Smythe is half as good as he’s said to be, he won’t come within blocks of this place again.”
“And if he needs boys,” Barnaby said, “he’ll hang on to the two he has—he won’t let them go.”
