Though he couldn’t see her face, he had no doubt her lips were pinched with irritation. Pulling out a stack of bills, shewaved the wad in the air. “Would you like me to count them aloud?”
Sassy little sprite. A grin curved his mouth. “No need.”
Shoving his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle the length of his palm, hardly two fingers wide, then nestled it atop the gravel. He retreated no more than a step before the woman shot up her palm.
“Take the lantern with you.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said you wanted to inspect the trinket.”
Laughter bubbled out of her, more demeaning than humorous. He bristled. He’d never let a man insult him so, much less a woman.
“Just do as you are told, Mr. Brudge.”
He snatched up the lantern, the flame casting a wild dance of light as it swung in his grip, then counted off twenty paces. How satisfying it would be when Scupper took this snippet down to the ground.
She approached the tiny parcel, skirts billowing like dark clouds. Setting aside the satchels, she retrieved the package and unwrapped it. Hard to say what she saw in the small figurine. He wouldn’t give two coppers for the ugly chunk of clay. Not that it mattered, as long as she was willing to pay.
And since she was, that meant others would part with coins for it too.
Apparently satisfied, she opened the clasp on one bag and tipped it upside down. “As you see, Mr. Brudge, I shall be putting the item into the empty satchel and will leave behind the one with the payment.” Like a grand entertainer, she flourished her hand in the air.
Brudge rolled his eyes. How this woman had earned such a shrewd reputation was beyond him. Then again, this could all simply be a charade while the real Shadow Broker hid behind some tombstone. If that was the case, hopefully Scupper could handle him. He’d certainly paid the brute enough.
“Let Mr. Dandrae know if you come across any other Egyptianartifacts. I am always in the market for such.” She snapped the bag closed. “Good night, Mr. Brudge. A pleasure doing business with you.”
Her skirts swirled as she shot down the gravel path. Brudge ate up the ground himself in a mad dash to grab the money. The clasp broke as he forced the satchel open. Sure enough, a bundle of banknotes sat inside. A slow smile eased across his lips, then broke into a grin as Scupper stepped out of the shadows and grabbed the woman. She’d have screamed were the man’s big hand not over her mouth. He wrenched the satchel containing the artifact from her grip just as she elbowed him in the gut, followed by another sharp blow even lower. Scupper grunted.
Brudge winced. That had to hurt.
A curse bellowed out of the man, followed by a swipe of his meat-hook hand. The strike launched the woman sideways. She landed in a heap while Scupper lurched away, hunched over.
Brudge caught up to him and clapped the man on the back. “Good work. Now let’s be off. Train leaves in twenty minutes ... just about the time that chit will wake up with a real skull banger. Stupid woman. She has no business being in a man’s world.” He chuckled as he clutched both satchels. He could triple the money if he and Scupper pulled this little trick a few more times.
“But keep your eyes keen, eh?” His gaze swept the graveyard like the swing of a scythe. “For all we know, the Shadow Broker might yet be waiting to spring.”
A twig in the mouth was as pleasant a sensation as gravel mashed into one’s cheek—and a bruised one at that. Stifling a groan, Ami Dalton spit out the small stick, then pushed up to sit. Well. That hadn’t gone exactly as planned.
Fingering the soreness in her jaw, she rose on stiff legs. Oh, but a hot soak in a rose-scented bath would be a welcome diversion this night. With quick sweeps of her hands, she dusted herself off, then glowered at a large tear in her hem. Must bulliesalways use force to get what they wanted? Then again, in order to bring history to life for the masses, one must be willing to face danger now and then—or so her father always said.
She huffed a disgusted puff of air as she picked her way through the maze of tombstones. The rear gate, while out of the way, was the safer route if Mr. Brudge and his hammer man came back. A beauty of a headache pounded in her temple as she upped her pace. Mr. Dandrae should have investigated this pair more thoroughly before suggesting she work with them. Such slipshod connections weren’t like him ... unless he’d taken a larger-than-usual cut of the profits. Possible. He was a consummate businessman even if his dealings were sometimes on the wrong side of the law. Perhaps Mr. Brudge had paid him too handsomely to refuse, or perhaps the man owned a little dirt on Mr. Dandrae. Regardless, Mr. Dandrae would hear of the heavy-handed horseplay that’d gone on tonight and make sure it didn’t happen again, or she’d pull her business from him.
Hinges screeched like demons in the night as she opened the cemetery gate. Ahead sat a black cab with an even blacker horse hitched to it. The animal pawed the ground, a massive snort misting from his nostrils in the glow of the coach’s lanterns.
“Ready to leave, miss?” the driver called from his seat.
“Yes, please.” She boarded, taking care to tuck in her gown before shutting the door. No sense adding tear upon tear to the already battered fabric.
Sinking against the seat, she nearly closed her eyes. Yet no. This was a time not for rest but for celebration. With one quick movement, she pulled out the small bundle she’d jammed up her sleeve, then unwrapped the ancient shabti doll, the same shape and size of the rock she’d left inside the satchel Mr. Brudge stole. Mr. Clampstone would bounce on his toes when he got his hands on this gem. Another prize for the Ashmolean Museum’s Egyptian collection and another step forward in her career to becoming a recognized Egyptologist. After six months of her identifying and acquiring unique pieces, Mr. Clampstone ought to be offering her that part-time Egyptologist position any daynow. Which would be a boon. And yet even with such a title, she’d still be nowhere near gaining a smidgeon of the respect her father enjoyed. She’d never become a team member on an Egyptian dig without such respect. A sigh leaked out of her.
But even so, she smiled as she rewrapped the precious relic. If nothing else, the Shadow Broker had maintained her reputation, and for now, that would have to be enough.
2
Wut soft lite doth brake be-ond,
A donning, a yonning, a yell-oh
Hmm. A yellow what?
