Page 56 of With Good Grace
Jake let out a slow, tortured breath. ‘You have worked with me on enough cases to know that dancing to a blackmailer’s tune is seldom the prudent course of action to take. Keep them waiting, and guessing. It is what they have done to you. Console yourself with the thought that it is not Tom they want. They are using him as a means to an end. However, if you have any doubts about that and would prefer simply to wait for them to communicate with you, then Parker and I will not try to forestall them.’
Olivia was quiet for a protracted moment. ‘No,’ she said, her eyes vivid in her pale face. ‘I trust you to do the right thing. It would go against everything you stand for if you did not try to outwit criminals; especially those cowardly enough to use a child to get their way. You and Parker must go, but be as quick as you can. I dare say I shall still be here when you return.’
‘Thank you.’ Jake kissed her, almost chastely. ‘Try to behave yourself. If you need me in the meantime, Reed will send a runner.’
‘Take care,’ Olivia said, her eyes lingering on him as he left the room.
Jake headed for the stairs, aware that she had not actually given her word not to leave the house. He had not expected her to and knew that nothing could convince her to stay if word of Tom’s fate reached her in his absence, no matter what assurances he extracted from her. But fortunately he had been able to distract her and she had forgotten that the kidnappers would require Lady Marchant’s letters, which were securely locked in Jake’s safe, to which she did not have access. Even so, he would also leave Reed with strict instructions not to allow her to leave the house should a message arrive for her, even if it was necessary for him to physically restrain her.
A short time later, Parker and Jake, both dressed in dark clothing, set off for New Thames Street in a Hansom cab.
‘Do you honestly think this expedition will bear fruit?’ Parker asked as the cab rattled over Westminster Bridge.
Jake considered the question as he gazed out of the window at the muddy river in full flow. A blanket of smoke from the wharf-side factories hung above it. A strong smell of rotting fish and human waste assailed his nostrils. The odour did not seem to deter those requiring river passage and the bargemen were doing a brisk trade. The twilight had brought out lightskirts who flaunted themselves as they strolled across the bridge, looking for customers. One waved at Jake’s cab, leaning forward to give them a good view of her half-naked breasts. The sight did nothing to distract him from his purpose and the woman made a rude gesture when Jake ignored her invitation.
‘I think it is the most promising information we have learned about Sir Hubert’s activities to date,’ Jake said in response to Parker’s earlier question. ‘I also think it significant that Lady Grantley knows nothing about her husband’s partnership with Granville. That was deliberate. Sir Hubert anticipated that he might need to disappear and I would wager half my fortune that he has been living in that warehouse these past two weeks, possibly colluding with Molly regarding Tom’s abduction. Whether he is there now, and whether he has Tom with him, is another matter. It could be that he needed Molly, someone familiar to Tom, to look out for the child until this matter is settled.’ Jake ground his jaw. ‘I hope for the dissolute rogue’s sake that is the case. Not that that small consideration will save him from retribution but at least it shows a glimmer of humanity.’
‘Either that or he has no idea how to keep a child quiet.’
‘Be that as it may, I live in expectation of that warehouse throwing up clues as to his whereabouts.’
‘Let’s hope so. Mrs Grantley is at the end of her tether.’
Jake felt a renewed sense of helplessness at Parker’s untimely reminder; at his inability to reassure the lady he adored. ‘That she is,’ he said, grinding his jaw.
The cab reached the end of New Thames Street. Jake paid the jarvey and he and Parker were left in an area that was completely foreign them. Several dubious-looking characters appeared from out of nowhere, presumably looking for easy pickings. Parker’s tough stance discouraged them from approaching and they faded wordlessly back into the shadows. A dog barked in the distance, a clock chimed the half-hour. A man shouted at a lamppost, raising clenched fists at it as he conducted two sides of an argument simultaneously. Two small children ran barefoot down the centre of the road, one of them eating an apple. Everything appeared normal, but nothing was, and Jake’s senses were on high alert.
‘That’s the building,’ Parker said, pointing to a dilapidated wooden construction with peeling paint directly ahead of them.
The two men strolled past it, alert for anyone watching them. The few people still in the street went about their business and paid them no attention. It was now almost completely dark and they could see no movement or light coming from within the warehouse.
‘There’s a side door,’ Parker said. ‘Looks like it would be easy enough to open it.’
‘We have to assume there’s a night watchman,’ Jake replied. ‘There has to be if there’s anything of the slightest value in that building.’
‘But not if Sir Hubert is in there with the child. How would he explain that one away?’
Jake took a moment to think. ‘Very well then, Parker. The direct approach is called for. Go and knock on that door. If the night watchman answers, tell him you’ve been sent with a message for him from Sir Hubert. Then take the man to that tavern on the corner and pour brandy into him. I’m sure you will think of a convincing reason for distracting him from his duties. Give me half an hour and then meet me back here. If I am not here, needless to say, come looking.’
‘What if no one answers, or Sir Hubert does?’
‘I shall be right behind you, keeping out of sight. But if it is Sir Hubert, apprehend him. If no one answers, we go in together.’
‘Right you are then.’
Parker strode towards the door to the warehouse, while Jake concealed himself behind a pile of stinking debris, wishing he’d had the presence of mind to wrap a kerchief around his mouth and nose. After two loud raps at the door, Jake heard the sound of shuffling feet on its other side. It was wrenched open by a man with a soldier’s upright stance but who walked with a limp, accounting for the shuffle; the sort of man customarily employed in such establishments to scare away opportunistic burglars. He and Parker had a brief conversation, after which the man nodded and followed Parker from the warehouse, locking the door behind him.
Jake waited for them to disappear from view and then sprang into action. Opening the locked door was the work of a moment. The hinges creaked when it swung open but there was no one in the vicinity to hear the noise and come to investigate. If there was someone inside, waiting to greet him, Jake would soon know.
There was one dim lantern burning inside a small office to the left of the door, the remains of the watchman’s supper spread across as table, along with some quite extraordinarily good sketches showing vivid battle scenes. This man had seen a lot of human misery, Jake thought, and expressed it through his art. He ought to be exhibiting in Bond Street; not standing watch over this dismal warehouse.
Jake shook off thoughts of the unfortunate night watchman’s plight, stood still and listened. The absolute quiet convinced him there was no one else in the place. Even so, it paid to be cautious. He took the lantern, fingering the dagger in his pocket as he made his way stealthily through the cavernous but almost empty warehouse. There were a few chests of tea, but the layer of dust covering them suggested they had been there for a considerable amount of time. Some bolts of fabric spilled from an open case, the smell of spices pervaded and there were a few other cases stacked high. Jake couldn’t guess at their contents and did not have the time to investigate. The goods took up less than a quarter of the total space. Unless they were expecting a shipment, or had just distributed one—which Jake somehow doubted—it seemed that Sir Hubert’s partnership with Granville was not a success.
Other than the littered office that the watchman had been using, there was no possible place for a person to live on the ground floor of the warehouse. Jake glanced at the ladder leading up to the loft space and knew he would have to climb it. If anyone was up there, watching for him, they would easily be able to knock him from the ladder. He should wait for Parker to return so that they could investigate together; the night watchman be damned.
Jake thought of Olivia and the possibility that she had already heard from the abductors. If so, she would be champing at the bit, beyond anxious for his return and furious with Reed for preventing her from leaving the house. He would not put it past her to try, however, so he couldn’t afford to delay for a single moment.
With that mantra in mind, he placed his foot on the first rung of the ladder.
