Intrigued now, the man scratched his chin. “Stolen?”
“After a fashion.” Eli watched the man consider the matter for a while before he leaned in and whispered, “Human.”
His newfound source showed less shock than Eli expected. “It happens,” the tavern keeper murmured. The man shook his head. “Lowest of the low, them. But you’re right. It would be hard to hide along here. Too many eyes and ears. Men may be poor, may dodge a rule or two, but that? Not likely to be overlooked. At least by most.”
“Can you say any particular organization is dodgier than the others?” Eli asked.
“Not that dodgy. No such business in the city.” The tavern keeper glanced uneasily around the room. If any of those listening avidly disagreed or had information to add, none spoke up. The man put both hands on the table to push up.
“One more thing,” Eli called. “If a man with funds had a ship of his own, one he didn’t want the harbormaster peering into too closely, where might he find anchorage?” It had been the suggestion of the river police, and a good one.
The man shook his head. “Ocean goer won’t get too far up the Mersey coming this way, and nowhere on the canal. Ships that size don’t pass Runcorn. Might find dockage along the Irish Sea between Liverpool and the Dee. Along the Deeside, maybe.” A sly grin came over his face. “Of course, a dockman would have known that,” he said and he walked away.
Early Monday morning, Eli visited the chancery and verified the hold on foreclosure by the bank. He went next to the estate agent to show him proof and urge patience until such time as Miss Hancock received authority to sell on her brother’s behalf. Finally, he rode to the Hancock drapery to simply inspect the state of the property, finding it in order. By midmorning he had also popped in on Abbot the greengrocer, who’d greeted Eli warmly and assured him the neighbors were keeping a sharp eye on “Miss Hancock’s store.”
The fly in the ointment irritating Eli’s sense of right and his need for well-conducted business was the ecclesiastical court’s refusal to give Fanny the writ of authority to sell Wil’s property. To clarify that matter, he had to travel to the bishop’s court in Chester, forty miles south, a task for another day.
The larger shadow preying on his mind drove him to seek out Holliday, Rob’s contact in Manchester. No one had said, but the man appeared to be one of Rockford’s contracts, if not an actual agent. Fanny couldn’t act—couldn’t, in fact, leave Clarion Hall—until they found the madman seeking her. If Rob and his contacts couldn’t do that, nothing Eli did mattered.
Holliday, whose office turned out to be a coffee shop between the commercial district and the quays, greeted him warily. “Back in Manchester, Mr. Benson? I hope you and Sir Robert were able to get Miss Hancock safely to that earl of hers.”
“That we did, Holliday. Have you made any progress in ferreting out the men behind her abduction?”
“No more than I reported to Sir Robert. We have Edwards in jail, awaiting transportation. His immediate superior—man name of Everhard—disappeared from Manchester. He must be lying low because no one has seen him since that night at the Happy Cock. If he surfaces, I’ll nab him sure as can be.”
“Reported to Sir Robert.”Rob hadn’t told Eli that bit, and it rankled. Perhaps it didn’t matter. “Everhard is the one you chased that night? The one we want is above him. Whoever is directing this has more power and reach than a local thug.”And is a lunatic.
Holliday nodded genially. “We’re working bottom-up, Benson. We find Everhard, we’ll know who’s behind him. It takes patience.”
“That’s it? You sit and wait for him to bob up from the sewer?” Eli explained what they knew about Fanny being targeted. He expounded his theories about the transportation of victims, and his queries along the quays.
Holliday’s amusement poked at Eli’s eroding temper. “We have men along the river, Benson. If Everhard appears, we’ll know.”
“But have you—”
“Leave the investigation to the professionals, Benson. We’ll contact you when we know something. You stick to estate sales and court cases.”
Eli glared impotently across the table for several seconds. Holliday had shut the door on further discussion. Eli stood and snatched up his valise, sorry he’d brought the damn thing that branded him for the solicitor he was. “I’ll let you know what I find,” he said.
Holliday didn’t hide his growing amusement. “You do that.”
*
An unexpected visitfrom Emma Corbin to Clarion Hall lightened Fanny’s day. Harris showed Eli’s sister into Fanny’s small sitting room, where she had been struggling to write. Emma bustled over to a seat, breathless from hurrying. “Too soon for word from Eli, I’ll warrant, but we’ve heard from Rob.”
“Clarion did as well. A courier came last night—likely the same one—and I expect Goodfellow will have received some pointed words as well.”
“The corporal must have reported the attack on the road, because Rob is on his way to Ashmead.”
Fanny nodded and smiled a bit. She’d grown rather fond of both her new brothers, but Rob was rather more comfortable a presence than Clarion. “It will be good to have him here.”
“I hope he brings Lucy. Da longs to dandle Kit on his knee,” Emma said.
“He must know I’m safe here at the hall!” Fanny said.I’m practically a prisoner.She dismissed the thought; they all meant well. “Did you hasten up here to tell me Rob is coming?” Fanny asked.
“No. Something else. Probably nothing but a worry in any case,” Emma said.
“We seem to be plagued with those lately.” Fanny wondered if the men weren’t the only overprotective Bensons. “What is it, Emma?”
