Page 107 of Where the Heart Leads
“Damn!”Stokes gave voice to their frustration. After a moment, he said, “Let’s see what we can learn from Grimsby.”
“Try Wally first.” Penelope glanced at the younger man. “He’s…simpler.”
Not precisely simple, but she was fairly certain Wally wasn’t dealing from a full pack. Turning from her and Barnaby, Stokes faced his prisoners. Sliding her hand into Barnaby’s, Penelope squeezed, then releasing him, made her way quietly back to the boys; she didn’t want them to feel deserted again.
After a moment’s hesitation, Barnaby followed her.
For some moments, Stokes stared impassively at Grimsby, then considered Wally. Eventually, he said, “Wally, isn’t it?” When, a puzzled frown on his face, Wally nodded, Stokes asked, “Who told you to kill Mrs. Carter?”
Wally’s frown deepened. He shook his head. “I didn’t kill no one. Who’s Mrs. Carter?”
It was transparently obvious that Wally was telling the truth. “You took the boy, Jemmie, from his mother—she was Mrs. Carter.”
Wally nodded, his face clearing. “Aye—I fetched Jemmie away. Went with Smythe to fetch him. His ma weren’t well, but she was alive when we left.”
“When you left.” Stokes paused, then ventured, “So you and Jemmie left…”
Wally nodded. “Smythe told me to take Jemmie out so he could speak private like with Jemmie’s ma, then when he came out he said she’d said Jemmie should come along with us because she was feeling poorly and needed to rest.”
“I see. And yesterday you went with Smythe to Black Lion Yard.”
Again Wally nodded. “Aye. We was supposed to fetch another boy—his grandma was ailing.” Wally’s frown returned. “But it all went wrong. We was only wanting to take the boy to put him into Mr. Grimsby’s school here, so he’d have a trade when he grew up, but people there didn’t understand.”
It wasn’t the people of Black Lion Yard who hadn’t understood. Stokes looked at Barnaby, standing beside Penelope. Barnaby tilted his head toward the boys, and mouthed, “Smythe.”
Refocusing on Wally, Stokes asked, “Do you know where Smythe stays—he has two of the boys, hasn’t he?”
“Aye. He took Dick and Jemmie out to train on the streets last night. Said they’re the sharpest two.” Wally’s brow furrowed even more as he realized. “He hasn’t brought them back though—well, don’t suppose he will, not with all you rozzers about. But I don’t know where he hangs his hat. The boss might know.” He looked at Grimsby.
Who looked thoroughly disgusted. “No, I don’t know. Smythe’s not one to hand out cards, much less invite me around for a glass or two of an evening. Keeps to himself with a vengeance, he does.”
Barnaby had expected no less. He glanced at Penelope, gently squeezed the fingers she’d once again slipped into his hand.
Stokes turned to Grimsby. “You’ve been around long enough to know the ropes, Grimsby. You’ve been running a school here, training boys to assist with burglaries. No judge is going to look kindly on that. You’ll be spending the rest of your unnatural life behind bars. You won’t see daylight again.”
Grimsby’s disgust deepened. “Yeah, I know. So…” He eyed Stokes speculatively. “If I agree to help by telling all I know, what’s me options?”
Stokes’s smile was the epitome of cynical. “If—and I stress if—you can convince me you’ve bared your soul, and what you have assists us in our investigations, then I’ll speak to the judge. A more lenient sentence is the most you can expect. Transportation instead of a cell.”
Grimsby pulled a face. “I’m too old for long sea journeys.”
“Better than spending the rest of your life in the dark, so I’ve heard.” Stokes shrugged. “Regardless, in your case, that’s the best I can do.”
Grimsby screwed up his face, then heaved a huge sigh. “All right. But damn it, Iwarnedthem—Smythe and Alert both—once I saw that blasted notice. Told them the game was getting too hot, but would they listen? No. No respect for age and experience. And so nowI’mthe one ends behind bars when all I’m doing is teaching nippers a few tricks.I’mnot the one leading them astray.”
“Don’t you dare try to pretend that you’re not an evil old man preying on the innocence of young boys.”
Penelope’s voice sliced through the closeness, vibrating with so much fury it literally shocked. Everyone fell silent.
Grimsby stared at her—met her eyes across the space—paled, and edged back toward the two burly bobbies.
Stokes cleared his throat. “Indeed. I couldn’t have put it better.”
Grimsby sent a shocked look his way. “Who’s she?” he whispered hoarsely.
“She, and the gentleman beside her, have a close interest in this matter, and between them are probably related to any of the judges you’re likely to meet.” Stokes held Grimsby’s increasingly horrified gaze. “I think that’s your cue to leave aside the excuses and tell us what we want to know.”
Flustered, Grismby waved his shackled hands. “Happy to tell you all I know. I said so.”
