Several desks were pressed together with clerks poring over bills of lading and shipping contracts. “The man we want is back through here.” Max followed her down a narrow hallway, and Colleen knocked on the door at the end. A triangle-shaped wedge of wood had broken from the bottom of the door, and Colleen could see a man’s boots approach before the door swung wide.
“What do you want?” The man blinked and scratched at the whiskers on his neck. “Oh, Mrs. Bonner, isn’t it? I haven’t seen you hereabouts in a crow’s age.”
“Mr. Seagrumn.” Colleen inclined her head. “I hope you’ve been well.”
“Well enough.” He stared at them and tilted his head to the side.
“I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Atwood,” Colleen said, Max’s surname sticking on her tongue. The men nodded at each other.
Colleen glanced back at Max. He raised his eyebrows at her use of the word ‘mister’ before his name but remained silent. Colleen knew the dockmaster’s type. Men like him weren’t impressed with titles. He’d be more forthcoming if he thought he was speaking with a regular chap. While Max’s clothes were of the finest quality, the rest of his appearance didn’t match that of a baron. She thought he could pass.
Colleen waited patiently for the invitation, a smile on her face. Mr. Seagrumn was a bit rough, but eventually he remembered the niceties.
“Oh. Uh, did you want to come in?” He stepped back, and Colleen hurried through.
She lifted the stack of papers on the one guest chair and settled them on her lap. The dockmaster circled around his desk and took his seat.
Seagrumn pointed at a squat barrel buried under a stack of documents. “You can sit on that, if you’d like,” he told Max.
“I’ll stand, thank you.” Max rested his hands on the back of Colleen’s chair, his fingers brushing her shoulders. “We appreciate you taking the time to see us.”
“For the lovely Mrs. Bonner, of course.” Grimacing, Seagrumn reached under his bottom and pulled out a rolled-upTimes. “Though I don’t think any of my ships are carrying clocks.”
“I’m no longer in the clock business.” Colleen pulled off her gloves, tugging on each leather finger. “What my associate and I have come here for today is information. I told Mr. Atwood that if anyone would know, it would be you.” She gave the dockmaster a bright smile. “I remember how knowledgeable you were.”
Seagrumn ran his thumbs under his braces, pulling the strips away from his round stomach and letting them snap back. “That’s right nice of you to say, Mrs. Bonner. And coming from a sharp biscuit like you, I take it as a high compliment. If I can be of help, I will.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Max shifted behind her. “I’m looking for some men to help me with my new business enterprise. Mrs. Bonner said you’re familiar with all the sailors and dockworkers who might take on odd jobs for some extra blunt.”
Colleen frowned but held her tongue. This seemed an awfully roundabout way of getting the information they needed. Was Max going to hire each man down here and try to discover every other employer he had? The process would take months.
“Of course,” Seagrumn said. “It’s hard to raise a family on the salaries the lads make around here. Most are looking to make a bit on the side.”
“Great.” Max shifted behind her. “I only have one condition. The men I hire must be a bit … flexible when it comes to their principles, if you understand what I’m saying. I can’t have someone getting missish and run crying to a magistrate every time he has misgivings about the work. Nothing illegal, you understand. I just want it to be private.”
Oh, Lord. Colleen glared over her shoulder at Max. What was he trying to do? Ruin her reputation so she could never do business in this neighborhood. True, sailors and dockworkers wouldn’t be her main customer if she got her flower shop. But if word got out that she was running with some shady characters, the more respectable clientele wouldn’t grace her doors, either.
“I see.” Seagrumn scratched his jaw. “I don’t—”
“We’re looking for a blackmailer who goes by the name of Zed.” Colleen leaned forward. “Any idea where we can find him?”
Max dug his fingers into her shoulders, and Colleen shrugged him away. “What? I don’t want him thinking I’m in league with a devil.” She turned back to Seagrumn and gave him a wide smile. “We only have the best of intentions in apprehending this criminal. Mt. Atwood doesn’t really have a new business enterprise. He mistakenly thought that would be the easiest way to get information from you.”
Max heaved a sigh, and she could almost feel the exasperation rolling off of him.
Seagrumn ballooned his cheeks out and released his breath in a hiss. “What in God’s name have you gotten yourself into? You don’t just go around asking questions like that.” He peered at the closed door and out his grimy window. It was crusted over with dirt, letting in only the barest amount of light. The dockmaster needn’t have worried about anyone spying on him from that direction.
“So, you have heard of him?” Max stepped around her chair, closing in on Seagrumn.
Eyes wide, the man scooted his chair back to the wall, and Max halted. With a barely perceptible grumble, he stepped back and leaned against a bookcase, crossing his arms over his chest. No doubt his version of looking unthreatening. That look didn’t really work on Max.
Colleen scooted to the edge of her chair. “We need to find this person. You must know someone who worked for his organization. I know the men around here are always looking for employment. An operation of this size would have drawn a lot of attention.”
“Too bloody much attention.” With a wary eye on Max, Seagrumn leaned forwards, propping his elbows on his desk. “A couple months ago, a government crowd came along, poking their noses in every pot and barrel down here. They took a heavy hand, throwing a lot of good lads in limbo, some that didn’t deserve it.”
“And yet, the Crown was still no closer to apprehending the head of the organization,” Max said. He tugged at the corner of a loose document on Seagrumn’s desk, perused its contents. “Were many men arrested from down here?”
“Lookee, I run a clean ship. None of my men were involved in anything like that.” He shifted a stack of papers and plopped it on top of the document Max looked at, blocking his view.
