“The door’s unlocked,” Mr. Mills said when they reached the top of the stairs. “Go on.”
Marcus entered the small apartment above the butcher’s shop, arriving in a dark hallway with four doors leading off it.
“Wait here,” Mr. Mills said. He pushed his way past Marcus and disappeared through the second doorway on the right. Muted voices followed, and then the man appeared once more. “Come on. You’ve got five minutes and then I have to get back downstairs.”
Unwilling to waste one second, Marcus entered the room and stopped. Robert was younger than he’d expected, no more than thirteen years of age. He sat at a table in a hunched position, his eyes glued to the surface. Marcus glanced at Mr. Mills, then back at Robert. Right. No time to lose.
“Hello, Robert. I’m Mr. Berkly.” When Robert said nothing, Marcus took a step closer. “It’s my understanding you happened upon a wrecked carriage today. Correct?”
Robert slowly nodded.
“I’m hoping you can tell me everything you saw in case it can somehow help me find a missing woman. I believe she was on that carriage, but according to what I’ve heard, she wasn’t among the injured or—” Noting how Robert stiffened, Marcus corrected himself. “I mean, it’s possible she’s still alive.”
Ever so slowly, Robert raised his gaze and sought out his father.
“Go on,” Mr. Mills told him. “Tell Mr. Berkly what you know.”
Robert pressed his lips together as if attempting to bite back the words. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then said, “I saw it happen.”
Marcus stilled. “But Mr. Andrews said—”
“Robert was scared, all right?” Mr. Mills crossed to where his son sat and put one hand on his shoulder. “And rightly so. He did the correct thing by keeping quiet about it.”
Marcus stared at them both. “What exactly did you see, Robert?”
“Two men. I was coming back from the Laurels’ house after dropping off a delivery when I spotted them. They were setting up some sort of obstacle in the road and then the coach came round the corner. The horses tripped and stumbled and the coachman lost control. A woman fell off during the crash. One of the highwaymen caught her. The other killed the coachman, took a few things, then they rode off.”
“The woman,” Marcus asked. “Was she young with dark brown hair?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“And do you remember the direction in which they were headed?”
Robert clenched his jaw. “Away from town.”
Well. That was about as useful as a boat without oars. All the same, Robert deserved his gratitude, so Marcus thanked him for the information he’d provided and prepared to leave.
“I know who they were though,” Robert said.
Marcus swung back to face him. “Go on.”
“It was Mitch Maddox and Oswald Harper.”
“Local troublemakers,” Mr. Mills added. “Never thought them capable of this, but they’re probably desperate seeing as both are out of work and in a lot of debt. Mitch’s father used to own a small cabin just north of here. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve gone there to hide their loot and figure out what to do next.”
“Thank you.” Marcus wasn’t sure what else to say. No words could convey his appreciation thoroughly enough.
“If you’re going after them,” Mr. Mills said once they’d left the room, “I suggest you take a pistol with you.”
“I mean to purchase one immediately,” Marcus assured him. In fact, he planned to get two - one for each man without a need to reload.
15
Louise took a series of deep breaths to calm herself. If she panicked, she feared she’d be as good as dead. So she closed her eyes and cleared her mind, tried to focus on the horse’s movements beneath her as they rode. Her fear gradually slipped away, allowing her the focus she needed in order to see without her eyes. A tilt to the horse’s gait suggested they climbed a hill. A few jolts here and there could be caused by uneven ground, perhaps by rocks. The air began smelling fresher. The trickle of water caught her ears as they passed what she guessed to be a small brook.
These men, Louise decided as the path evened out, would underestimate her as long as they thought her a cripple. The one with whom she rode had already dismissed her as a threat on account of her losing her glasses. He’d judged her as most people always had - useless and incapable of functioning properly without assistance.
It was vital she nurtured this false certainty. It was, she believed, what would keep her safe. So when they finally got to where they were going, Louise deliberately stumbled across the threshold of the structure they led her into. The blurry shape she’d seen on their approach indicated a squat cabin of some sort, perhaps intended for hunting.
