‘Right then, I’ll make sure they have the funds for that.’
She found the pub in an alleyway that ran between Pall Mall and King Street, a dirty black-timbered building that had none of the spruce Palladian pretensions of Carlton House and surrounding buildings. The coachman and the wagoner were huddled together at a table. It looked like adversity had resulted in them striking up a friendship.
‘Gentlemen,’ said Dora, approaching them. ‘Dr Sandys sent me to see if you are both well.’
‘Dr Sandys?’ asked the coachman. He was smartly dressed in navy livery and looked none the worse from the incident. ‘Who’s that?’
‘The man you almost ran over.’
The coachman pulled out a stool for her. ‘Hah! He’s a lucky beggar. Is he going to be all right?’
‘He is right enough to be thinking of you both. A surgeon is seeing to him now.’
The wagoner, distinctive in his country smock and nankeen breeches, raised a mug of ale to her. ‘Thank the good Lord for that. I thought he was a goner when I saw him tumble off the pavement.’
‘He didn’t tumble,’ said the coachman. ‘He was pushed. I saw it as clear as day. That gave me a second to steer away. I’m only sorry that I clipped your wagon.’
‘Better my wagon than a man’s leg.’
‘He was pushed?’ Dora felt sick. ‘Did you see by whom?’
The coachman shook his head. ‘Not so I would recognise him again. There were several gentlemen on that side of the road.You have to notice in case one of them takes it into his head to try to cross before the horses. Those flash gents can’t be trusted when they’ve had a skinful. All I can say with any certainty is that a man in a dark brown jacket and brown hat, smart like, hurried up from behind him, then deliberately came alongside and shoved.’
‘You were coming up from behind too?’
‘Yes, that’s me. Trotting along after dropping his lordship at his club, not a care in the world, then, bang, there’s a man under Jill’s hooves and not a damn thing I can do about it.’
‘Were you coming in the other direction?’ Dora asked the wagoner.
‘That’s right, miss. I had just unloaded some kegs in Jermyn Street and was thinking about what I was going to have for supper, and then this one comes crashing into me.’ He grinned at the coachman.
‘The man who pushed Dr Sandys would have been facing you– the one in the brown jacket. Did you see him?’ asked Dora.
‘No, miss. I was too busy stopping Bernie and Tucker from making a run for it. My Clydesdales could’ve dragged his lordship’s carriage with us where we’d locked wheels, taken it all the way home to Kent.’
Dora passed over a purse containing what she guessed was generous compensation for a cartwheel and any resulting loss of earnings while it was fixed. ‘Dr Sandys doesn’t want you to be inconvenienced for getting caught up in this. If that isn’t enough for repairs, you can find us at our office.’ She slid him a business card.
The carter squinted at it. ‘What does it say? I was never very good at reading curly writing.’
‘Fitz-Pennington and Sandys, Private Enquiry Agents.’ At his blank look, she added: ‘We investigate crimes that the usual authorities can’t or won’t handle.’
‘Bet you make a few enemies along the way,’ said the coachman, pocketing the money she had passed in his direction.
‘If we are doing our job correctly, I’d say that’s inevitable,’ she agreed. And who had tried to murder Jacob was another mystery they would now have to solve.
Leaving the coachman and the carter to finish their drinks, she returned to Carlton House. The doctor had departed but his patient had stayed put. Jacob was drinking a cup of tea and eating a scone provided by kitchen staff. She pressed his shoulder lightly.
‘I take it as a good sign, that you feel up to eating?’
He passed her the untouched half of the scone. ‘To be honest, I’ve eaten so much today, I can’t manage another bite, but it felt churlish to refuse.’
She hadn’t had a chance to eat so polished off the scone gratefully. ‘We have a lot of catching up to do,’ she said between mouthfuls.
‘Indeed. How was Barnes?’
She shook her head. ‘None of that. Someone just tried to kill you. That’s the most urgent matter for discussion. Did you see them?’
He frowned as he attempted to summon up the memory. ‘No, but I felt them. It was no accidental elbow in the side but a firm shove in the back. The next few moments are a blur of hooves and cobbles, and then I was back on the pavement with people crowding around me, patting me down. I thought they were trying to ascertain if I was injured, and it was only later I realised they’d gone through my pockets and lifted my purse.’
