The next day, Mr. Devlin drove Glory and Wei as they surveilled Bryant. Glory parted the curtains of the carriage and peered out. The hackney in front of them had stopped, depositing their blond and bearded suspect on the corner of a commercial thoroughfare in Chelsea.
“What business do you suppose Bryant has here?” Wei gazed at the street, which was lined by an assortment of middle-class shops.
“Hopefully, he has more in mind than shopping. Livy tailed him yesterday, and the most interesting thing he did was go for a shave.”
Bryant crossed the street and entered a large corner establishment with a yellow awning. Seeing the name of the shop, Glory felt her heart pound faster.
Eady’s Pet Emporium.
“Zounds,” she said. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”
“If you’re thinking that a pet shop would be an ideal place to store stolen dogs, then yes.” Wei frowned. “It is a diabolically clever scheme.”
“Talk about hiding in plain sight.” Excitement buzzed through Glory; all her instincts told her that Sir Barkley was in that large brick building. “I must go in.”
“Wait, little tigress,” he said tersely. “I am not certain it’s safe. Let me go.”
“You are far too recognizable. Bryant is bound to remember you after you pounded his leader into a fare-thee-well. But he won’t know me.”
Today, she was disguised as a genteel spinster. A silver-threaded wig, face paint, and spectacles assisted in aging her, and she’d chosen a dove-grey walking dress that marked her as respectable.
“I don’t want you in there alone,” Wei insisted.
“I can handle myself.” She touched his arm. “Besides, I will not be in the shop alone. While I keep them occupied in the front, you can go in the back and look for Sir Barkley.”
With Wei’s hard kiss tingling on her lips, Glory opened the door to Eady’s Pet Emporium. A bell tinkled as she entered, setting off a cacophony of sounds. Birds, cats, dogs, and other more exotic species moved excitedly in their cages, which filled three spacious aisles. On the right side of the shop was a large wooden counter, over which Bryant was having a quiet but intense conversation with a fellow wearing a leather apron over his sizeable midsection.
The men barely spared her a glance before returning to their discussion. Glory had chosen her present persona for a reason. Middle-aged spinsters were the most invisible members of society, which had its advantages.
Reminding herself to be patient, Glory meandered about the shop like a patron would, pretending to examine the merchandise. At the aisle closest to the counter, she stopped to stroke the head of a baby brown ferret, eavesdropping all the while.
“…I cannot take any more inventory,” the shop owner said. “It’s a legitimate business that I’m running, and I can’t put it at risk.”
Inventory? Does he mean the stolen dogs? Glory strained to hear more.
“You owe me, Eady.” Bryant’s voice had an edge of menace. “This is your way o’ paying off your gambling debts.”
“Well, I am done.”
“You ain’t done until I say you are,” Bryant snarled. “You know what the Wolf’ll do if ’e finds out you’ve been running a game behind ’is back?”
Scott doesn’t know about the dognappings?
Glory tucked away the useful tidbit.
“But this scheme wasn’t my idea,” Eady sputtered. “You came to me.”
“Who do you think the Wolf will believe? Me, his trusted lieutenant or you, a namby-pamby bugger who can’t pay ’is debts? I ’ave the bloke’s ear, and if you even think o’ reneging on our deal, then I’ll be telling ’im that you came to me wif this ’alf-baked plan.”
“All right, all right. I’ll do as you say.” Eady made a sudden noise in his throat. “Good afternoon, ma’am. May I help you?”
Realizing that she’d been seen, Glory played her part.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Adopting the manner of a retiring spinster, she stepped out of the aisle and came toward him. “I am shopping for a new companion and saw that you have quite a selection.”
Eady sized her up, smirking as he judged her an easy target for his wares.
“I am sure I have whatever you need,” he said.
