“Eyes up, guv. We ’ave movement.”
Shoving aside his jumbled thoughts, Conrad looked out the window. A man with his cap pulled low and a scarf hiding his face had exited the tenement and was headed in their direction.
“Is that the cove?” Foxworth said.
“I didn’t notice him at the gala, but his height and build matches what the others described.”
“Let’s have a chat wif ’im, then. I’ll go first, so as not to scare ’im. If it looks like I need help, you back me up.”
Before Conrad could argue, Foxworth alighted from the carriage and approached the man.
“Afternoon, sir,” Foxworth said. “I was looking for a friend o’ mine who lives near?—”
The man pulled out a pistol and fired. The rest seemed to happen in slowed time. Foxworth fell to the ground. The driver shouted something from the perch, and the man fired at him before turning and running down the alley in the opposite direction.
Shaking off his paralysis, Conrad leapt from the carriage. He checked on Foxworth, who gasped, “Bullet passed through my shoulder. I’m fine?—”
“I’ve got him.” The driver rushed over.
Conrad took off after the suspect. If the bounder escaped into the maze of streets beyond the back lane, they would never find him. Conrad pumped his arms, gaining ground. Just as the bastard reached the mouth of the alley, Conrad sprang. He tackled the other, dirt spuming as they hit the ground. They wrestled; Conrad’s opponent was strong, refusing to be subdued. The man’s hat flew off, revealing brown hair and a visage with prominent eyebrows that fit the description of Gregory Johnson.
Just when Conrad thought he had Johnson pinned, the man kneed him in the groin. The dirty move made him see stars and momentarily lose his grip. The other threw him off and made a run for it. Conrad caught Johnson by the shoulder, but the other’s coat tore, leaving him with a handful of fabric. The man escaped into the street, narrowly missing an oncoming omnibus. The vehicle trapped Conrad in the lane and blocked his pursuit of the suspect.
“Move,” Conrad yelled. “Get out of the way.”
“Bugger off,” the omnibus driver yelled back. “Can’t you see there’s a block-up ahead?”
By the time the omnibus moved, Conrad knew it was too late. He raced into the congested street, surveying the snarl of people, carriages, and carts. Seeing no sign of the suspect, Conrad let out a string of oaths.
I almost had him. I was this bloody close.
Turning back, he bent to pick up the section torn from the suspect’s coat. The brown kersey was thin and cheap, and when he searched the fabric for clues, he felt a lump in the inner pocket. Reaching in, he retrieved a small drawstring bag. He loosened the tie and poured the contents into his palm.
He stared at the familiar object, one he would know anywhere. The oval ruby upon the ornate gold band winked with secrets. It was Robert’s ring…the one Conrad had seen on his brother’s hand last night.
“What is the meaning of this?” Robert cried. “Who are you? How dare you invade my home!”
“I am a constable of the Metropolitan Police, Your Grace,” the man in the dark-blue uniform said. “I am here to arrest you under the suspicion of attempted murder. You must come with me to the station at once.”
“Can’t you see my husband is very ill?” Lady Katerina stood by Robert’s wheeled chair, pale and trembling. “Clearly, he is not capable of what you are accusing him of?—”
“We believe that this was an attempted murder by hire.”
The constable showed the duchess the ruby ring that Conrad had recovered.
“Do you recognize this, madam?”
“I…well, yes. I think I do.”
Lady Katerina cast an uncertain look at her husband, who was swatting at the surrounding constables.
“It looks like Robert’s ring.” Her voice held a tremor. “The one given to him by his father.”
“Indeed, your husband’s initials are inscribed on the inside of the band,” the constable informed her. “This ring was found in the possession of a man named Gregory Johnson, who we suspect tried to murder Mr. Godwin.”
“Lies! Lies!” Robert shrieked.
“There…there must be some mistake.” Lady Katerina turned to Conrad. “I beg of you, sir. I know there is bad blood between you and Robert. Whatever he did to you, look at him now. Surely, he is paying for his sins. If that is not sufficient atonement, you will soon be the Duke of Grantley. My daughters and I will be at your mercy. Are you not satisfied?”
