“Tollpatsch” repeated Hawk. “That’s what the man said—the one who threw the poisoned glass into the plants, where I was hiding on the night of Mr. Becton’s murder.”
The valet’s face went pale as he realized the import of what Hawk had said. “You’re absolutely sure, lad?”
Hawk gave a solemn nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Then that means . . .” Tyler hesitated. “Then that means we now know the identity of the killer.”
“Y-You recognized him?”
“Aye, lad. I caught a good glimpse of his face, as well as recognizing his voice,” replied the valet grimly. He darted a look at the Baltimore Clipper. “And you heard what he said. I think there’s not a shadow of a doubt that Becton’s specimen is currently aboard Lyman’s ship.” A pause. “Though, thank God, they don’t know that.”
“Please, sir. We need to let Wrexford know.” Hawk tugged on the valet’s coat.“Now!”
Tyler shot an uncertain look at the river and its eddying currents. “I agree that we need to let him know. The tide has just changed, and will be against them heading out to sea for some hours . . .” He rubbed at his chin as he mulled over what to do. “And yet, there’s always the chance that they might decide to move the specimen to some other place . . .”
For the moment, all appeared quiet aboard the Baltimore Clipper. The deck and rigging were clear of any crew.
Tyler’s near-silent sigh twined with the swirls of mists blowing in from the river. “I’ll stay here and keep watch on the ship. You run to the office of Nereid and Neptune Shipping. Let Sheffield or Lady Cordelia know that we’ve discovered the identity of the killer.” He whispered a name. “And tell them to send word to Wrexford as quickly as possible.”
* * *
Wrexford slowed his steps as he reached the end of the alley. It opened onto a cobbled carriageway that fronted a cluster of brick warehouses. On the far side, narrow cart paths cut between the building, creating a spiderweb of ins and outs.
Just waiting to entrap an unwary fly.
He hesitated.Right or left?A number of small offices were scattered among the storage areas—the sort of places where one could hire a few fellows to move small loads of cargo, row a wherry across the river . . . or perform other tasks for which no questions were asked.
With nothing to go on, Wrexford decided that he and Charlotte had little choice but to start at one end and make a methodical search of the area.
And pray that they found Sheffield and Raven before they met up with Daggett.
The first cart path was deserted, save for a few feral cats scrounging for scraps among a pile of broken crates. As he turned down the second one, Charlotte right at his heels, several shadowy figures standing outside a half-open door quickly disappeared inside. The earl ignored the rustysnickof the lock. None of the shapes had matched the silhouettes he sought.
As he hurried through a passageway that connected to the next cart path, the scuff of steps—faint but unmistakable—caught his ear. He waved for Charlotte to halt.
Then, edging forward, Wrexford ventured a peek around the corner. His movements had been carefully controlled, stirring not a whisper of air . . .
Still, one of the two figures standing up ahead spun around and dropped down to a crouch.
“Throw that rock at me, Weasel, and you’ll be nursing a sore bum for the next fortnight,” warned the earl as he hurried to join Raven and Sheffield.
“Don’t ring a peal over the lad’s head,” responded his friend. “I asked him to—”
“Shhhh,”warned Charlotte as she darted out from her hiding place. “Let us find a more private place in which to talk.”
Wrexford quickly moved to one of the locked doors of the storage areas and pulled a steel pick from inside his boot. The catch released, and he motioned for the others to step inside. A tug pulled the door shut behind him, leaving them shrouded in darkness.
Which was all for the best, he thought. At the moment, Sheffield and Raven would not wish to see his expression.
“Now, would you care to tell me what in thebloodyname of Satan, the two of you are doing?”
It was said softly, but Sheffield wasn’t fool enough to mistake the depth of the earl’s fury. He shifted his stance, unconsciously shielding Raven from the earl’s verbal wrath.
“Before you explode, Wrex, please let me explain. During my rounds of the gaming hells last night, I heard some talk that Daggett had been spotted around the docks. It occurred to me that as he had double-crossed DeVere and Quincy, he likely had made a deal with new partners—”
“So you decided to confront him?” demanded Wrexford.
“Well, not precisely. I’m not that stupid,” replied his friend. “I merely wished to follow him and ascertain with whom he was meeting.”
