Mr. Broadhurst shuffled uneasily from side to side. “He was away, in Canada. The magistrates decided they had enough cause to believe Cockburn was me.”
I had the feeling he was leaving something out of his tale, but I decided not to press him at the moment. I’d pry it from him later, when he wasn’t as nervous.
“You believed that ought to have been the end of it then,” I finished for him. “Why have you begun to worry now?”
“Because I’m being followed.” Broadhurst darted a nervous glance behind me. “When I saw you this morning, I remembered meeting you at the Derby in Epsom year before last—Lord Dorland introduced us. He’d been speaking to me about investments.”
I recalled the introduction now, a brief encounter. I’d been pulled away very soon to attend Lady Aline Carrington, who had convinced Grenville and me to escort her to the races. Broadhurst had begun his patter to convince me he was a trustworthy man for my investments, but as I had little money of my own, I’d paid him no heed and had gratefully used the excuse of assisting Lady Aline to escape him. I hadn’t thought about Broadhurst again from that day to this morning.
“I’m not sure what you wish me to do, sir,” I said stiffly. “If you fear retaliation, you ought to hire a man to guard you.”
Broadhurst’s eyes widened. “Thought of that, thought of that. I’m not certain I trust these Romans. Gut you and rob you as soon as look at you, I’d say. I cannot turn to an English servant, such as you have, because they gossip, don’t they? I’d be found out.”
I began losing patience with the man. “If you do not trust the inhabitants of this city, why do you live you here?”
“I am merely another tourist, aren’t I?” Broadhurst waved a plump arm. “The British expatriates are mostly artists and writers or minor aristos, and I don’t know them. They’ve never heard of Mr. Cockburn, let alone Mr. Broadhurst, of the City—”
“How can you be certain someone has found you out?” I interrupted.
Again his pale tongue slid along his lips. “Letters. Short missives left with my landlord.You cannot hide.Repay what you owe. That sort of thing.”
“Perhaps I could have a look at these letters.” I held out my hand. “Examining them might help identify the writer. His handwriting, the paper, quality of the ink.”
Broadhurst shakily thrust a fist into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded paper. “I put most of them on the fire—I didn’t want them anywhere near me. All but this one that I received when I returned to my rooms this morning. It clinched the matter of seeking you out.”
I took the letter, opened it, and read.You will pay for what you have done.
That was all. The hand was rather neat, as though the writer wished to make certain his message was clear.
“If you receive any more, save them,” I said, refolding it. “Shove them into a box if you can’t stand to look at the things, but bring them to me.”
Broadhurst’s eyes filled with hope. “You will help me, then?”
“I will consider it.” I tucked the letter into my pocket, where it hung like a weight. I continued in a stern tone, “Another tactic you might take is to give the money back. You told me that Mr. Cockburn was trying to make things right. Why not finish what he started? I imagine that a man who saw the money he lost returned to him would be more kindly disposed to you.”
Mr. Broadhurst cleared his throat. “Not so easily done, you see.”
I hadn’t thought it would be, or he’d not have fled to the Continent at the first opportunity he found.
“You have spent all the money?” I could not find any kindness in me for his misdeeds. “You ought to have remained at home and faced the consequences, Mr. Broadhurst.”
It had occurred to me that his story of finding Mr. Cockburn conveniently dead could well be a false one. Perhaps Broadhurst had realized that he faced debtors’ prison, or worse, and had invented the scheme of switching identities with his partner. Blows from a knife in the dark, a flight to another country, and he was free.
“Perhaps I ought.” Mr. Broadhurst fluttered his gloved hands. “But there’s nothing to be done now.”
I doubted that. He must have managed to squirrel away a large portion of the money he’d swindled before he’d escaped to the Continent. His clothes were whole and well-tailored, his hat a fine one, and he could pay for lodgings. He was not living in the gutter and suffering from want.
I grew annoyed with Mr. Broadhurst. His sins were coming home to roost, and he was asking me to help him avoid this fate. He struck me as one who would do anything to evade responsibility. Even murder? Possibly.
“I’d heard that you are rather good at hunting down those who harm others,” Mr. Broadhurst went on. He spoke breathily, and I detected true shame in him. “If you can discover who is doing this, perhaps dissuade them from pursuing me … The tame ruffian who follows you about would be just the thing.” His face grew red. “I know it’s an awful cheek, but I truly am frightened.”
I firmed my mouth. “What I suggest, sir, is that you either move to another city or own up to your crimes and reimburse your victims, even if it ruins you. Become the hero, as you called Mr. Cockburn, rather than the villain.”
“Would that it were so simple.” Mr. Broadhurst stated this with feeling. “I vow, I would pay back all I owed if I could. And I did plan to move along. Rome is getting too frightening for me. But, please.” His eyes held fear and some self-loathing, none of it feigned. “If you could see your way to discovering who stalks me like a gamekeeper and dissuade him, I would be ever so grateful.”
“Are you certain you have no idea who is behind this?” Usually, a man wasn’t threatened without cause or at least a knowledge of who wished violence against him.
Broadhurst’s eyes flickered as though he’d thought of someone, but he shook his head. “It could be one of so many. That is the trouble. Please, Captain, if you do this for me, I could put some good your way.”
