“I know him as well,” said David. “I’d say he’s between ten and twelve years of age. He’s the lad who sought me out when he saw Miss Rangaswamy crying.”
“Interesting.” James said. “Continue, sir,” he said, nodding to Lewis.
“From the boy, I got an excellent description of the men, and yes, there were two men involved, not one. And I know the direction they took, as one of the Daniel’s mudlark gang followed them.”
“And they took Krishan?” Rani asked.
“Yes, they did, but the kidnappers then lost him!” Lewis said in disgust.
“You’re saying the men who killed the woman they paid to grab the boy, subsequently had the boy kidnapped from them?” James said, his brow furrowing, drawing his dark brows together.
Lewis laughed once, mirthlessly. “Yes. Our witness saw them take the boy up the outside staircase of a tavern in the Seven Dials area of the city, lock the boy in, then go back to the tavern to drink. The mudlark who followed the men and the boy came back to the dock area. That’s where I met him. He led me and another of my men to the tavern. By the time we got there, the kidnappers had gone back to the room to find the boy missing. They were anxious and asking all around if anyone had seen anything. No one admitted to that, of course. No one ever claims to see anything in that area unless money is involved.” He paused and scratched the side of his neck at the edge of the rough wool coat collar.
“We arrested them, and after a little persuasion, and the reminder we had them on the murder of Muriel Patterson, got them to tell us why they kidnapped the boy. They told us they were hired to ensure the boy did not reach the Earl of Soothcoor, by any means.”
“Did they ask why?”
“No, and didn’t want to know. They were hired about a month ago to loiter around the docks and be on the lookout for a young male child coming from India to England, probably traveling just with his ayah.”
“Who hired them?”
“They don’t know. They can’t even give an appropriate description as the person appeared to be wearing theatrical makeup.”
“Shouldn’t that, in itself, be a clue?” James asked.
“Perhaps. It is certainly a trail we will follow.”
“So what now?”
He looked directly at James. “We begin again,” he admitted. He looked over at Miss Rangaswamy. “It would help if we had a likeness of the child.”
“Aah! Yes, yes!” Rani said excitedly, bouncing up off the sofa. “In luggage!”
“You have a painting of the child?”
“Yes, yes! Small, and folded like a book.” She mimicked closing a book with her hands.
“A miniature,” Lady Branstoke suggested.
Rani nodded. “Yes, miniature.”
“Is it a good likeness? One an artist could copy?” Lewis asked.
“Yes!” she nodded vigorously.
“Where is your luggage now?”
“I had it stored at the Waddley Spice and Tea Warehouse at the wharf,” David said.
“Excellent, Mr. Thornbridge,” said Cecilia. She reached for the bellpull. “Mr. Martin, I see you have not slept. A nap is in order. I shall have Charwood show you to a room where you can sleep.”
“That is not necessary, Lady Branstoke.”
“I understand that you are a gentleman of the law, Mr. Martin,” Cecilia said severely; “however, that does not make you different from any other man. You need your rest. Even a short rest.” She stared him down.
“Best to agree, Mr. Martin,” said James, laughing.
The door to the parlor opened.
