“You’re probably right, but I want this done correctly. If you do as I ask, they’ll get precisely what they deserve without any of us with their blood on our hands.”
“All right then. Show us the way so we can get the job done.”
Adrian led them back inside the tavern and up to the room where the three men were tied. Retrieving his notebook and pencil from his jacket pocket, he wrote a quick note while the men he’d hired got the thugs onto their feet. Protests were rampant, along with agonizedgrunts from Blade Slasher and Roy whose injuries made it nearly impossible for them to walk.
“Bloody bastard,” Roy seethed as he was hauled from the room. “I’ll get you for this.”
Not sparing him a glance, Adrian tore the page on which he’d written from his notebook, folded it in half, and folded it once again. He added his calling card along with a promise note for twenty-five pounds, then handed the lot to the man who’d asked what the catch might be.
“The message is for Chief Constable Kendrick,” Adrian told him. “He probably won’t be there at this hour, so ask whoever’s on duty to have it placed on his desk. The promise note is your first installment. My address is on the card.” He watched as the man studied the information printed upon it. “Come by the house tomorrow. Bring a note from Bow Street with proof of delivery, and I’ll give you the rest of your pay.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Croft.” The man tapped the brim of his hat and went to help one of his friends with the man who’d been punched unconscious.
Adrian left them to it, the loud curses being uttered following him through the door. He glanced into the rooms he passed on the way and saw that they’d all been cleared. None of the whores or their patrons remained.
He descended the stairs to the foyer, paused near the front door, then sent a quick glance to the rooms oneither side. It was hard to believe they’d been overflowing with people no more than an hour ago.
There was still one more person he wanted to find. The one who ran The Buxom Lady Tavern, and who’d not only hired those men to protect the establishment’s heinous secrets, but had chosen to turn a blind eye.
With near silent footfalls, he strolled to the right. There was a good chance the woman he sought would be long gone by now, but what if she wasn’t? He stopped in the middle of the room where half-full beer mugs remained abandoned, the chairs by each table pushed back as proof of their occupants’ hasty departure.
A door behind the bar stood ajar, a soft light beckoning from beyond the other side. Deciding to take a closer look, Adrian rounded the bar, withdrew his dagger, and used the tip to nudge the door open.
The blast that followed splintered part of the doorframe. He instinctively ducked, flinging one arm across his face to protect it from flying debris. With a muttered curse, he extended his leg and managed to kick the door shut.
Another explosion shook the room, informing Adrian of two things. First, the person who’d fired at him was either the quickest reloader he’d ever encountered, or they wielded a double-barreled weapon. Second, they were in a panic, not waiting to get a clear shot.
Both attempts had failed to strike him, and if he wasright, their weapon would now be empty. Time to act before they managed to add additional ammunition.
He pulled the door open with one sharp movement and leaned to one side – just enough to provide him with a quick assessment of what he was facing. An older woman, at least thirty years his senior, with chubby cheeks and silver hair tied into a messy knot, came into view.
The furious look she gave him suggested she’d like nothing better than to burn him alive. He pushed his way forward, snatched the pistol she tried to reload right out of her grasping hands, and tossed it aside. One second later, he had her by the throat, her back pushed into the shelves behind her so hard the bottles that stood there rattled.
The swift move of her shoulder compelled him to grab her wrist, preventing her from using the dagger she’d managed to grab. He squeezed down hard on her hand and she dropped the weapon, a dull clank sounding as it hit the floor.
Stubborn eyes fractured by venom beheld him. “You’ve no right getting involved in my business.”
“I’ve every right when your business involves the maltreatment of innocent children.” He pushed his hand higher along her throat, forcing her onto her tiptoes. She gasped and began panting hard through her nose. “Make no mistake. You will pay for what you’ve done here.”
“Bastard.” She spat at him, the saliva landing against his chin.
He didn’t release her to wipe it away, choosing instead to tighten his hold. “You clearly don’t know who I am or you wouldn’t have done that.”
“Mr. Croft?” It was one of the men he’d hired. “I thought you’d gone, but then I heard what sounded like shots. Looks like you might need additional help.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re Croft?”
A croak, but clear enough nonetheless.
“In the flesh.” Adrian smirked, taking perverse pleasure in the fear he now saw on the bawd’s face.
“Please. I’m only doing my job. Wycliff’s the one who insisted on using the youngsters. Wanted the extra blunt they can bring. I didn’t condone it. I…I…” She was shaking, the words she uttered turning to incoherent mutterings as she pleaded for him to release her.
“You needn’t worry,” he told her, his voice colder than ice. “I make it a rule not to harm women.”
A breath escaped her. “Thank you. I promise I’ll do much better. No one will ever work here against their will. Whate—”
“The authorities, however, have no such qualms.” He shoved her away from the wall and toward the man he’d hired. “Take her with you as well. Explain her part in all of this.”
