“I would go with you meself, but someone needs to watch the office.”
Brodie shook his head as he and Munro arrived in the alley and climbed atop the wagon.
“Not this time,” Brodie commented with a look at the hound.
“As you say,” Mr. Cavendish said as he moved to one side of the team.
Munro picked up the reins and the horses set off down to the far end of the alley.
Brodie was probably right about the hound. We had no way of knowing exactly what we were going to find when we reached Queen’s Docks, and it was a good distance from the Strand. It was probably best that he remain.
Still, there was no way of knowing what Rupert might do on his own. He was, after all, a creature of the streets. Not unlike the two who sat in the front of the wagon, I thought as I caught sight of Rupert trotting behind the wagon.
Then, as we reached the end of the alley and Munro turned the team toward the main thoroughfare that would take us along the river to Queen’s Docks, Rupert leapt into the back of the wagon.
“Good boy.” I scratched his ears and then ordered him to lie down under the wagon seat, out of sight.
It took almost two hours to reach Victoria Street, then very near another hour on a street filled with wagons and carts in spite of the rain. After that, we headed down an adjacent roadway toward the river.
The rain had not let up the entire way, and I had soon joined Rupert under the wagon seat with the edge of the canvas pulled up.
The wagon eventually slowed, and there was the faint nicker from the team in that way of horses greeting other horses.
We had reached the livery Munro had spoken of, and he guided the team behind the small corral and shed where it might not be noticed.
I pushed back the canvas as Rupert jumped down, circled the wagon, then returned, waiting expectantly.
“What is that bloody animal doing here?” Brodie demanded as Munro circled round the other side of the wagon to the back and threw back the canvas.
“He jumped into the back of the wagon,” I explained. “There was no stopping him, and I was certain we could not delay to return him to the office.”
“No stopping him? Did it occur to ye that it might be dangerous for him?”
“He has proven himself most capable in the past,” I pointed out.
Munro had retrieved an ax from the back of the wagon. He handed it to Brodie.
“If Lily is here, there are things that will have to be done tonight,” Munro said as he looped a second ax through his belt.
I understood.
“I’m going with you.” And before Brodie could make his usual objections, I continued. “If something has happened...” I didn’t want to think about it; however, two young women had been murdered. “If she is here,” I continued, “and has been injured, I can help. I’m going. And that’s the end of it.”
The objections were there, then his expression softened.
“Aye. But yer to do exactly as I tell ye.”
Munro had already set off, keeping to what remained of the shadows as he moved toward the first warehouse. Brodie and I followed.
Dozens of thoughts ran through my head. If Lily was there, what if she was injured? How would we find her? The answer to that particular question brushed against my leg as we stopped where we had last seen Munro. Rupert looked up at me expectantly.
We followed as Munro moved around the side of the warehouse to the front of the wharf and boat landing, then eased one of the large doors open. He glanced back and held up two fingers.
“There’s two inside,” Brodie whispered. “Stay here.”
He joined Munro and they slipped through the doors.
Several moments passed, then there were sounds of a struggle. There was a shout, followed by a curse, then silence. In spite of Brodie’s instructions, I ran to the entrance of the warehouse.
