Tomlinson cracked a smile. “Isn’t that a kick in the arse? I was about to ask you the same question.”
Cade narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know anything?”
“Not much.” Tomlinson shrugged.
“You must know something,” Cade prodded, his foot tapping again.
“The papers have the right of it. He has struck again,” Tomlinson said, shaking his head.
“What else have you learned about him?” Cade asked.
“All too little, I’m afraid. The rumors are everywhere. He is French. He is English. He is Russian. He’s a pirate. No one knows.”
“He robbedThe French Secrettwo nights ago,” Cade prodded.
“Yes. Among other crimes.”
“Why isThe French Secretin London?”
Tomlinson took a swig of ale. “We don’t know.”
“But what are the rumors, Tomlinson? Come now, youalwaysknow the rumors.” Nine times out of ten the rumors were exactly right.
Tomlinson sighed. “Very well. Rumor has it there’s a group of English turncoats working with the French. They’re in port to finalize their plans.”
Cade’s grin was wide. “And the Black Fox isn’t making it easy for them?”
Tomlinson’s eyes narrowed to dark slits. “Why are you so interested in the Black Fox?”
“That’s my business.” Cade sat back and took a long draught from his mug.
“Be that as it may, if you want to know what I know about the chap, you’d best tell me.”
Cade rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to discern how much British Intelligence knows about him.”
“And why would you want to know that?” Tomlinson’s eyes were barely visible through the suspicious slits.
This time Cade shrugged. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in the matter.”
“Youwouldn’t happen to be the Black Fox, would you?” Tomlinson met his gaze.
Cade was prepared for this question. He had perfected his card-playing face over many, many hands of cards with men who were a sight better at spotting lies than Ernest Tomlinson ever would be. Cade cleared his throat. “If I were, you couldn’t possibly believe I’d tell you.”
Tomlinson grinned, exposing crooked teeth. “Aye, that’s a certain bet, there.”
“What else have you heard?” Cade asked, his patience wearing thin.
Tomlinson took another long drink. “He’s being hunted. But they can’t find him.”
Cade leaned forward. “They know nothing?”
“Not much. They’re certain there was something he was after on the French ship but definitely not jewels as the papers would have you believe.”
Cade nodded grimly. “They know nothing else?”
“Nothing I’ve been able to discern.”
Cade stood, tossed some coins on the table, and turned for the door.
