Rafferty moved down the street at an easy pace, acutely aware that he was being followed. It wouldn’t be Dagger Fanning—he wouldn’t be doing anything for a good long time, and Billy Stiles wouldn’t trust him to anyone else. No, it was Billy himself shadowing his footsteps in the middle of the night as he walked toward the docks.
Stiles wouldn’t underestimate him—he’d know that Rafferty was well aware of him. Stiles wasn’t out to kill him that night—he would have already made his move. No, this would be in the way of a warning, a demand, a threat, but nothing more.
He wished he didn’t have so much of the damned gentleman’s code of honor left in him. It would be simple enough to cut back, circle around and finish Stiles quickly and silently. But his august grandmother would be horrified, and he suspected he’d have a hard time living with himself.
He stopped by the bridge and waited, making no effort to disguise his impatience. It didn’t take long for Billy to catch up with him.
“Enjoying the night air, Rafferty me boy?” Stiles greeted him, his mouthful of teeth glowing in the moonlight.
“I was,” he said evenly. “What do you want?”
“What do you think I want? Belding’s ill-gotten gains, that’s what. And you’re taking a mighty long time to find it. Seems to me I ought to pay a little visit to the house on Corinth Place meself, see what I can find.”
“I wouldn’t advise it.”
“Seems to me that pretty little girl of yours might encourage you to work a little faster. She don’t know who you are, does she? None of them do. You’d be out on your arse so fast you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
“And I wouldn’t have access to whatever fucking hiding place Belding decided to use. If I haven’t found it yet, what kind of luck do you think you’ll have?”
Billy smiled benevolently, his dark black eyes shining murder in the lamplight. “Why, I’d tear the place apart, brick by brick, until I found it. I’ve got enough men to help me, and there wouldn’t be all this shilly-shallying around.”
“You don’t think the police might notice if you had your men invade the building?”
“The police do what I tell them to,” Billy said. “And don’t try to tell me the money isn’t there. It has to be—there’s no place else and everyone knows Belding made frequent visits to the deserted townhouse. I don’t think he was looking for companionship from the rats.”
“It would have been fitting,” Rafferty said. “What do you want from me, Billy?”
“Don’t be daft, man. The money, pure and simple. And you’re running out of time. Let’s say by this time on Monday you’ll have the answer, or I’ll have to do something about it myself. And I might just take a piece of that little girl as a reward.”
“Touch her and I’ll cut off your hands.”
Billy Stiles sniggered. “Have you fallen in love, old sod? How the mighty have fallen! I never thought to see the time when the cold-blooded Rafferty was brought low by a pretty girl. And I gather she’s not even the beauty of the family. Your standards are falling.”
“You can have the beauty,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “Just keep the fuck away from Georgie.”
“Georgie? Now ain’t that cute? I’m not staying away from anyone. I want my money.”
“Don’t you mean your share of the money?” Rafferty countered, knowing full well that any division of the spoils was highly unlikely.
“’Course I do, old sod. ’Course I do.” His voice was wheedling. “Monday night. I’ll come to collect my share. Or your little Georgie, just to encourage you to work harder. Maybe I shouldn’t wait on that.”
Rafferty felt no fear, simply a cold, murderous rage that effectively wiped out any stray sense of honor remaining from his privileged upbringing. “Why don’t you come closer and say that?” he purred.
“Because you have a knife and you know how to use it. But I’m carrying a pistol meself and I haven’t lived to this ripe old age by being stupid,” he said smugly.
“Threatening the girl is very stupid,” Rafferty said in a low, dangerous voice.
“Threatening me is even worse.” He pulled out the pistol, aiming it at Rafferty’s mid-section. “Let’s just agree to leave each other in one piece, shall we? You agreed to find Belding’s cache and split it with me—that’s all I’m asking for.”
Rafferty controlled his snort of disbelief. “You’ll have your money,” he said coldly. “As soon as I find it.”
“Make it soon, my boy. I never was a patient man.” He uncocked the pistol and slid it back in his flashy coat, and Rafferty hesitated. He could kill him where he stood, his knife in Billy’s throat, before Stiles could even begin to reach for the gun, and he was sorely tempted. But Stiles was already pulling away, and he knew he’d missed his chance. This time.
Next time, he wouldn’t hesitate. Next time, Billy Stiles would be dead before he even opened his mouth, and if that soiled Rafferty’s peculiar sense of honor then he’d live with it. Georgie was worth any tarnished standards he still maintained. In fact, he’d give the house one more day. Search the old servants’ quarters on the fourth floor again, just to see if he’d missed something, and then take a little trip down to the docks to finish with Billy. He couldn’t afford a fair fight—what if, by some fluke, he’ lost? Who would protect Georgie? She was hardly Billy’s type, but the man had never been accounted stupid. He wanted her because Rafferty wanted her, and nothing would distract him from humbling his ancient enemy.
No, he was about to become a murderer. And he wouldn’t feel an ounce of guilt.
Georgie looked out over the sleeping city, her brain a torrent of thoughts. Everyone slept, everyone but her, and she yawned, knowing it would do no good. There were nights when she simply couldn’t sleep, and she climbed up the servants’ stairs and went out through the hinged window to the flat roof, perching up there as the night closed down around her, peace in her solitude. She had no fear of heights—in fact, she liked them. Liked being one with the night, looking down on the world around her.
