Scotland Hard (Book 2 in the Tom & Laura Series)

by John Booth

  “That I am sir, that I am,” the man said eagerly. “My name is John Ford and this is my daughter Mary. Anyone in the neighborhood will tell you that I am an honest trader, poor, but honest, sir. Mary’s mother passed a year or so ago and we live alone here.”

  “We must not keep Mary from her bed,” Daisy said, seeing how much the girl shivered with cold. “She will catch her death if she does not retire.”

  Ford seemed to notice his daughter’s state for the first time.

  “Get off to bed with you, girl. I shall handle this,” he said and she curtsied to them before running off into the dark.

  Arnold continued in as disinterested a voice as he could manage. “As I said before, I am interested in purchasing your horse and cart this evening, should the price be right,”

  “You’ll be in a hurry then, sir,” Ford said shrewdly. “I am sure I can come up with a price that will be a match for your need.”

  “Can we go and see the horse and cart in question?”

  “Now that I am decently dressed, we can, sir. Though I’d best put on my coat first as it looks a little cold out there.

  Ford took them to the barn. He carried a lantern to light the way. Inside the barn, they found an ancient cart standing in its centre. Ford led them further into the barn where they found a sorry looking horse with a bowed back sleeping in a dirty stall.

  Arnold would have walked away from the purchase on seeing the state of the vehicle and the horse, but he could see from Daisy’s eyes that this was what she had expected and wanted. Unfortunately, for the weight of his wallet, Ford saw the look in her eyes as well.

  “A fine animal and a strong vehicle. They have seen many a journey out between them,” Ford said rubbing his hands together in the cold.

  “It looks as though it has been around the world twice, without ever feeling a caring hand upon it,” Arnold agreed.

  “I’ll have you know, sir, that I grease the wheels of that cart at least once a week,” Ford replied in mock horror.

  “I was referring to your horse. I will give you ten pounds for both.”

  “A fair offer, sir. If it was the middle of the day and you were a young gentleman out for a stroll. Since it seems to me that your need is a little more urgent than that, shall we say fifty pounds?”

  Arnold spluttered in outrage and Ford laughed in delight. It took the two of them another hour of haggling to settle on a price of twenty pounds.

  “I want the horse put between the stocks and made ready for travel in the next few minutes,” Arnold demanded as he reluctantly paid the man.

  “As your lordship requests,” Ford said as he stuffed the money deep into his pocket. He had just made a great deal of money and was delighted to have got the horse and cart out of his life.

  “And throw in a couple of bales of hay for the horse,” Daisy suggested. Ford winked at her.

  “Put them on the cart yourself, missy and we shall say no more about it.”

  Arnold made to help, but Ford put out a hand to stop him.

  “I’ve made a deal with the young lady. If you help her, I shall have to charge you for the hay.”

  Daisy let down the flap at the back of the cart and went to the nearest bale of hay. When she tried to pick it up she found it weighed as much as she did. Daisy looked at Ford and smiled grimly at his amused expression.

  “Since they are so light, I shall take three of them,” she told him. With considerable effort, she lifted the bale and manhandled it on to the cart, pushing it deep onto its back. She smiled again before lifting two more bales onto the cart. Each lift made her feel her back was breaking, but she was determined not to give Ford the satisfaction of seeing her fail.

  Ford looked on in astonishment. He would have bet a good deal of money that the girl could not have lifted a single bale. He ruefully acknowledged that he had been properly trounced and held out his hand to Daisy in admiration, having first spat upon its palm.

  “You deserve what you have taken and good luck to you,” he told her.

  Daisy spat on her own hand and took his offered hand.

  “Thank you, sir. It has only cost me the bones in my back.”

  When they arrived back at Saunders’ house, they found Cam frantic with worry.

  “You have been hours,” Cam complained. “And every second of the wait I expected Saunders to return.”

  “We have to hurry,” Daisy said urgently as she got down from the cart. She looked around as if expecting to see Saunders arriving that very moment.

  It was enough to spur the others into action. They grabbed the goods that Cam had stacked by the door and loaded them onto the cart.

  Once laden, they set off down the drive and onto the road in the general direction of Crouch End with Cam and Daisy in the back. They had travelled less than a hundred feet when they heard the sound of an approaching coach. They turned to see the coach’s black outline turn into Saunders’ drive.

  “That was cutting it fine,” Cam said as she settled down on the hay. She and Daisy sat trying to doze while Arnold drove.

  Cam had drifted off to sleep when she was awoken by Daisy shouting, “Halt.”

  Arnold stopped urging the horse forward and it stopped at once. It had not proved to be an animal eager to travel.

  “What is it?” Arnold asked as Daisy jumped off the cart and took the lantern from where it hung alongside the driver’s bench.

  “Where are you going?” Arnold asked again.

  Daisy ignored him and walked to the edge of the road. She lowered the lamp near to the ground so she could see into the grass beyond the edge of the road. The long stemmed blades glittered in the lantern light, white with hoar frost.

  “What are you looking for?” Arnold asked. He got off the cart and followed her. Cam got down and followed behind them, stifling yawns in her hands.

  There were ditches on either side of the road, though the grass was tall enough to disguise them. Daisy walked about twenty yards before giving a cry of triumph. She disappeared from view as she stepped off the road and into the ditch.

  Arnold and Cam raced to join her. When they looked into the ditch, they found her kneeling besides two small bodies.

  “Help me to get them out.”

  Arnold jumped into the ditch and picked up Tricky. The boy was white with cold and barely breathing. Arnold struggled to the child out of the ditch as his feet slipped on the icy grass and the sides were steep. Cam helped him up and he took Tricky back to the cart as Cam joined Daisy beside the other boy.

  “This is what the hot water bottles are for,” Cam said to Daisy as she helped her pick up Ebb. “You knew we were going to find these two, didn’t you?”

  “Nothing is ever that certain for a Precog, Cam. Not even in the present. In many of my visions, they were dead when we arrived. I just hope we are in time to save them.”

  “These children are connected to Tom and Laura?” Cam asked.

  “Oh yes,” Daisy agreed. “In their past and in their future too, if I’m not mistaken. I suspect this night is far from over for us yet. So don’t even think of going back to sleep.”

  15. Intervention

  Trelawney and Saunders made their way back from the docks to the Ministry in silence. Trelawney led Saunders up to his office. Belinda was there waiting for him and the look in her eye asked a question. He nodded gloomily and Belinda put her hands over her mouth in horror.

  All three walked through to Trelawney’s inner office and Trelawney opened up an ornate drinks cabinet and poured them three large brandies.

  “Is there no possibility of a mistake?” Belinda asked.

  “None,” Saunders responded instantly.

  “A little hope remains,” Trelawney replied and Saunders gave him a sharp look. “The bodies fitted Laura and Tom’s descriptions and wore their clothes, but their heads were missing.”

  “I’ve already explained that,” Saunders pointed out irritably.

  Trelawney sighed.

  “Jam
es, you have offered up a plausible explanation. That is not the same thing as presenting an incontrovertible fact. While the Hungarians or the Americans would much prefer to see Laura dead than in our hands, they would even sooner have her working for them. If they had kidnapped her successfully, why not take her back to Hungary or the USA?”

  “They would have to get her out of the country. Ports would be watched, cargoes searched,” Saunders pointed out.

  “Not if we were convinced she was dead. There is no one looking now.”

  “You think the Hungarians kidnapped her?” Belinda asked hopefully.

  “No, I am sure it was done by the Brotherhood. And they, of all people, have the least reason to kill her. She is worth much more to them alive than dead.”

  “Then Laura and Tom still live,” Belinda said and exhaled with relief.

  “I didn’t say that,” Trelawney said wearily. “What I said is that there is a small chance they are still alive. There is a much stronger possibility that I have just examined their bodies. That is certainly what the Secretary for War believes.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” Saunders asked. “Am I searching for kidnap victims or for their killers?”

  Trelawney swirled his brandy around in the glass, warming the liquor with his hands as he considered his next step. He reached a decision.

  “You, my friend, are looking for whoever killed Tom and Laura. That is what the Secretary of War is expecting you to do and it is still the most likely scenario. If the bodies were not Tom and Laura our enemies may just have made a fatal mistake. However, I shall assign agents from MM1 to investigate that possibility.”

  “I can see no mistake,” Saunders said, annoyance clear in his voice.

  “If, and I do stress ‘if’ the bodies are not Tom and Laura, then the real victims must have been recruited recently and most probably locally. MM1 can look for advertisements in the press, and ask around the taverns to see if anyone was recruiting a pair of youngsters.”

  Trelawney stared at his drink as he continued.

  “It is likely these young people would have talked about their good fortune. The enemy would have had to pay well to lure them in. In any event, the enemy agents would have left a trail and perhaps witnesses who might identify them.”

  “I should be doing that job,” Saunders demanded. “The credit for finding enemy spies should not end up with MM1paper-pushers.”

  “But you are sure Tom and Laura are dead, James,” Trelawney pointed out. “So you must also believe the search would be a waste of time. It probably is, and you have work to do that is much more important. Find me the people who killed Tom and Laura.”

  Saunders scowled at Trelawney’s impeccable logic. As he had nothing more to say, Belinda decided to ask a question of her own.

  “What of the others? Shall we recall them from their mission?”

  “Earlier this evening I thought we should, but now I’m not so sure,” Trelawney mused. “I think we should let them carry on with their task and hope it is still worthwhile.”

  “You have other agents in the field?” Saunders said bristling with unconcealed rage. “I am the Director of Operations. I should have been informed at once.”

  “There is nothing to get upset about, James,” Trelawney said mildly. “Given that the Brotherhood has certainly infiltrated MM3, it seemed best not to put their mission on the record where it might be seen by your staff.”

  “Who are these people?” Saunders asked.

  “I have put three of our more reliable students from Hobsgate on the trail of the kidnappers. They will likely achieve nothing, but it can hardly do any harm.”

  “I want their names,” Saunders snapped. “We cannot have barely trained youngsters muddying the trail. How will my men be able to do their jobs? I must most strongly protest this breach of protocol, Sir Ernest. I shall be writing to the Secretary of War about it.”

  Trelawney dismissed Saunders’ protest with a wave of his hand.

  “Do what you must, James. I am well beyond caring and my position became forfeit when those bodies floated upriver with the tide. Belinda will give you all the details you want about our young agents.”

  Saunders did not leave for his home until the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t getting the details of the agents that delayed him; it was his inability to find the top hat he knew he wore the night before that kept him searching his office. He went through the office looking for it. He was tired having been up all the previous night. Saunders needed sleep desperately, but he did not feel like sleeping. Too much could go wrong and it was his neck at risk.

  When the Ministry driver finally delivered him to his house some hours later, he knew he had to sleep. He dragged himself to his bed and slumped onto it, falling instantly asleep. He didn’t notice the disturbed state of the house.

  Tom, Laura and Alice watched Jane being made ready for her journey. Two servants tied her hands in front of her, the girl being too frightened to protest. A large black cloak with fur-lined hood was placed over her shoulders and fastened around her neck.

  “Your task is to pretend to be the girl,” the butler instructed her.

  “Why do I have to be tied up?” Jane asked plaintively.

  “Because she would be tied, you stupid girl,” Calder said impatiently. “Just be thankful you are to escape the beating I shall give the other maids tonight.”

  Jane curtseyed as best she could while tied.

  “Yes sir, Mr. Smith. I am very grateful, that I am. Will I be coming back tonight or on the morrow?”

  “The lady here will take care of all of your needs, girl. Just you be respectful to her and keep your mouth shut unless spoken too.”

  Tom would have warned Jane of her fate if he felt it would have helped. She gave him a bright smile before they pulled the hood over her head. Lady Shultz took hold of Jane’s arm and led her to the front door.

  “Come vith me and get straight into the coach…, and keep your head down,” the woman instructed. “You vill be dealt with promptly ven vee get back to my house.”

  Jane nodded and moved to the doors. Tom and Laura were so far back from them they could see nothing beyond when the servants opened them.

  Jane and Lady Shultz left the house at a run with Jane held firmly by the arm. The doors were closed quickly behind them.

  The man Tom knew as Sir M came up to him.

  “Aye laddie, you and the bonnie wee lassie here will be getting into my coach in a few minutes and I don’t expect any trouble from you. You’ll be treated fair and proper by me if you don’na make a scunner of yourself.”

  “Yes, Tom,” Laura whispered sarcastically as Lord McBride turned away. “I would hate you to become a scunner, whatever one of those might be.”

  A few minutes later, Lord McBride and his servants hurried Tom, Laura, and Alice into a large coach waiting outside. As soon as they were safely inside, the driver whipped its horses into motion and they rumbled off at speed into the night.

  Daisy sat by Arnold on the board that served as a driver’s seat for the cart. Cam had made the boys comfortable by wrapping them together in the blankets. The sheets were hot from the warming pan she had put inside them. She threw the pan into the ditch as it had served its purpose.

  “I shall be asking you to drive off the road when we come to a turn,” Daisy told Arnold.

  “I suppose it is pointless asking you why,” Arnold said wearily. Precog’s can be very irritating, he thought, and not for the first time.

  “You know how it works with the personal stuff,” Daisy replied. “It’s not like foreseeing an earthquake, even talking about it might jinx it.”

  “You guarantee that you will not be asking me to drive into a ditch?” Arnold asked with a bleak smile. It was late into the night and he was tired.

  “If I do, I promise to apologize afterwards,” Daisy said soothingly and smiled at him.

  “How come I have to be the nanny?” Cam shouted from the back of the
cart.

  “Because you have the natural charm and grace for it,” Arnold shouted to her.

  “Over there, pull over to the left,” Daisy demanded and Arnold encouraged the horse to take the cart off the road. Thinking they might be stopping for the night, their horse was more than willing to oblige.

  Daisy jumped down and let down the flap at the back of the cart.

  “Now don’t you go disturbing the little ones,” Cam complained as Daisy started to pull the nearest of the hay bales towards her.

  “We need to get these off the cart and next to the road. Hurry,” Daisy implored her friends.

  Cam and Arnold were baffled, but they had promised to trust her and Daisy was the most trustworthy of the three of them by far.

  Daisy made them manhandle the bales until they were lined along the edge of the curve of the road. Daisy looked at the line critically and then made Cam and Arnold move them a few feet left. Without the light from the lantern, they would have been able to make out very little. The moon was low in the sky and even the road was difficult to make out.

  When Daisy was satisfied, she took her friends back to the cart and turned the lantern down so its light could barely be seen. She placed it in the body of the cart so they were left standing in darkness.

  Cam took a deep breath.

  “I know we are supposed to trust each other but could you at least give us a clue…..”

  Cam stopped as the sound of gunfire shattered the quiet of the night. Hiding behind the cart suddenly seemed like a very good idea, though Arnold had to go and calm their horse who was snorting with apprehension.

  Two coaches came speeding down the road. They heard the pounding of hooves and the squeaking of wheels though all they could see were the lanterns hung to the front of each of them. Arnold wondered how their drivers were managing to follow the road. Perhaps their horses could see in the dark because neither coach slowed as they approached the bend where they were hiding.