“I want to know what you did to Alex Lewis.”
“Fancy the bastard barrister, do you?”
“Did you kill him?”
Horace studied her for a moment. Win realized he was drawing out the tension, hoping to hurt her more by not telling her. Finally, he said, “I haven’t killed him….yet. Though he probably wishes he were dead. Your brave barrister doesn’t like enclosed spaces much at all. I could have killed him in the tunnels when he was on his way to see you tonight. But I thought it might be more interesting to do it this way. Besides, I might be able to get more information from him.”
Win’s relief that Alex was still alive was immeasurable. Though she hated thinking of him alone in the dark. “What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to learn what he knows about those ledgers. He figured out Sir Wilfred was being bribed, but that might just have been a lucky guess.”
“Those are your ledgers?”
“In a manner of speaking. Clarence and I were partners. He had an uncanny way of learning secrets about people, then either blackmailing or bribing them. I was a dab hand at it myself, but on a much smaller scale. It’s why I married Emmeline, by the way.”
“To go into business with Clarence?”
“You didn’t think it was for her looks and charming personality did you? No, Clarence was the only one with a winsome wife. Which is one of the reasons I could never understand why he spent so much time beating you. Perhaps it was because he was incapable of fucking you – or any woman, despite the tales of his exploits. I’m friendly with too many whores who told tales of his impotence for me to believe he was any different with others. And what a waste to leave you untouched.” Horace looked Win over in a way that made her shiver with revulsion.
“Careful, pet,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side.”
“If you were partners with Clarence, why did you kill him?”
“On the one hand, it was unfortunate to end such a profitable partnership. But I found a much more prosperous one. A rather big fish in Clarence’s big pond. Clarence sent me to blackmail him, but our target offered me a rather nice sum of money to kill Clarence instead and return with the ledgers. I managed the first part easily enough, though I hadn’t counted on that tart of a maid witnessing the whole thing from behind the door.
“She wasn’t a bad blackmailer herself, though too trusting by half. Imagine her surprise when she learned I wasn’t as interested in tupping her as I was in killing her. Yet I still needed to find the ledgers. It was damned bad luck that your Mr. Lewis had the ledgers in chambers. It’s not an easy place to break into. And I couldn’t risk having Sir Wilfred get a hold of them. I just had to wait for my opportunity – which you so kindly provided me. I know they’re at Grayson’s. And he’s either passed out drunk or at some brothel enjoying himself. Either way, I will soon be in possession of them.”
“Then you’ll give them to your partner?”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“Ah, my lovely Winifred, I’m not going to tell you. Don’t read too much into that. It’s not like you’d be able to pass on the information. But I’m superstitious about things like this. Suffice it to say he’ll be very glad to get the damned things in his possession. I will leave you now so I can do that very thing. But trust me when I say I’ll see you later.”
He blew a kiss at Win and left the room.
*
If Alex had ever imagined the worst possible position he could be in, he would have described the one he was in right now. Shackled to a damp tunnel wall in the pitch black. But, he realized there truly was something worse – thinking of Win at the mercy of a man who would kill her.
He had to get out of there so he could find her. He wasn’t sure how he was going to do either of those things. He tugged on the shackles a few times and discovered there was a little bit of give.
Thinking of Win, and only Win, kept the panic at bay. He knelt facing away from the wall, with one shackled wrist on either side of him. Then he imagined himself at the boxing salon throwing punches. He threw a right punch in the air in front of him, then a left. He repeated the process again and again, putting every muscle in his back and stomach into it. After a few moments, his muscles burned with the exertion, but he had to continue onward. First punching with his right, then his left.
His shoulders ached. He didn’t care.
First the right, then the left. One punch straight out in front of him, then another.
He must have done ten minutes of this before he finally had to rest. He was covered in sweat and his arms were shaking. But the bolts on his right shackle – his dominant side – had noticeably loosened. He still couldn’t pull himself from the wall. But if he’d come this far, he could go further.
He could do anything for Win.
*
Win was finally able to kick apart the wooden headboard to which she was bound, though she made so much noise she feared someone would hear. Her hands were still tied together, but she was able to run. She went to the heavy wooden door and knelt before it. Fortunately, she could see the key wasn’t still in it.
She’d been imprisoned in her bedchamber on many occasions. She’d become an expert at picking the lock with a hairpin. She reached up now to grab one, then went to work. It took but a few moments to pick it, then she quietly swung open the door.
There was no candlelight in the hall, though there was moonlight coming in from the windows. She carefully pulled back a curtain and to her amazement she realized she was still on her own street, though not in her house. She didn’t know who lived there – Clarence had never allowed her to make friends with anyone on the block.
There were no servants about. She could hear no sounds from belowstairs. It could be the house down the street from her own, which had been vacant quite some time. She wondered how Horace had taken her there without anyone noticing, then realized the tunnels must run beneath all of the houses.
She ran downstairs, then into the study, hoping there was an entrance to the tunnels in the same place as at her home. She began pulling out items near the fireplace until she found the correct switch. She paused long enough to light two candles, then disappeared into the passageway.
She tried not to think of what lay in front of her. For all she knew, she could be entering an endless maze where she’d get lost in the complete darkness, only to be found by Horace. But she wouldn’t think about that. She let only one thought guide her: finding Alex.
She fumbled around in the dark for too long. Each moment was agony, knowing Alex was trapped somewhere. For all she knew, Horace might have lied to her. Perhaps Alex was already dead. Mayhap she’d stumble upon his body.
She couldn’t think of that now.
For want of a better option, she turned in the direction of what would have been the wine cellar in her own house. Perhaps there was a room like the one where they’d found Tawny. Perhaps….
She ran into something solid and warm.
“Win?”
“Alex?”
She lifted her candle and there he was. Alex Lewis, the man she loved.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then he tried to pull her into his arms, but her hands were still tied. She could feel metal on his wrists and she had to awkwardly put her hands to the side, being careful not to burn him with the candles. But their lips finally found each other.
It was the most sublime moment of her life.
“He said he’d left you in the dark tunnels. I couldn’t bear it,” said Win, half sobbing.
Alex’s only response was another hungry kiss.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked. “I’ll kill the bastard.”
“No, though I believe he plans to. But we must leave. Grayson is in trouble.”
“Trust me, I have no desire to tarry. But where are we?”
“I believe we are in a house just down the street from mine. And, yes, let’s leave quickly.”
They carefu
lly retraced Win’s steps and were soon back in the study. There was no sign of Horace or anyone else as Alex quickly cut the ties around Win’s wrists. They hurried out the front door, then Win called out to James, who was still in front of her house.
“Horace is on his way to Grayson’s!” said Win.
James had one astonished moment as he watched his sister emerge from a different house with her hair falling down about her and Alex in manacles, but he called out to Colin and Nick and soon the five of them were on their way to Grayson’s.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nate had tried every cipher he knew, yet he still couldn’t break the coded ledger. But of one thing he was certain. The crimes contained within would have to be among the most serious in order for Pierce to have spent that much time encrypting it. In the blackmail ledger, Nate had already found incriminating evidence about prostitution, the opium trade, white slavery, jewel thieves, government corruption, extortion and murder. If those could be written about relatively freely, what would require such secrecy?
Only one crime came to mind: treason.
Nate and Stemple were sitting in the dark. They’d snuffed out the candles an hour earlier, hoping the villain would think he was either out or asleep. He’d placed the ledgers in a secret compartment in his desk, an elaborate piece of furniture from France that he’d brought from home. It was impenetrable unless you could undo the elaborate puzzle that would unlock it. No one would be able to do so. And he’d have to get past him and Stemple to even try.
It was past one of the clock when they first heard the footfalls in the hall.
There were other flats in the building and for a moment, Nate thought the person would continue onward. He did for a moment, then doubled back. He stood outside for a moment, then began picking the lock.
Nate looked over at Stemple to find him training a pistol at the door. His hand was steady, and Nate had no doubt he’d be an able ally. Nate had his own pistol in his hand, and had two knives on his person. He wouldn’t allow the villain to get away.
He heard the lock give way, then the door opened. It was dark in the hall, but light enough to illuminate Horace Warren. For a moment, no one moved, then Warren turned and ran.
Nate and Stemple gave chase, only to see Horace unexpectedly run up the stairs. Nate and Stemple followed, then heard Colin, James, Nick and Alex behind them – along with a female voice. He couldn’t believe the Emersons would have brought any of their sisters, but if it was Rose, he’d take her aside later to express his extreme displeasure.
Or simply kiss her senseless.
Horace threw open the door to the roof. Nate followed, only to see Horace race to the edge of the roof, back up, then jump. It had to be eight feet to the next roof – four stories in the air – but the blighter made it. They stared in amazement as Horace landed, then shimmied his way down the building until he dropped the final six feet to the street.
“I’ll find you later, Win!” he called up to her. “And finish the job the courts wouldn’t do.” Then he turned and ran up an alley toward the mews in back.
An angry Alex made a move to leap to the other roof, but Colin, James and Nick held him back.
“Let go!” said Alex.
“No,” said Colin. “We’ll find another way.”
A shot rang out from the direction of the mews. Nate led the others back into the building and down the back stairs to an exit which led to the alley. They raced to the mews, pistols drawn, only to find Horace Warren dead on the ground, shot precisely through the heart.
“Who did it?” asked Stemple. “Another accomplice?”
They looked around, but there was no one there.
Suddenly, Nate realized what was going on. He’d been an idiot not to see it coming. He ran back to his flat as quickly as possible, with the others following.
He arrived only to find the door open and the intricate puzzle of his desk undone. The compartment was open. The ledgers were gone. Nothing else in the room had been touched.
“Damn it!”
“Are the ledgers gone?” asked Alex.
“Yes,” said Nate.
“Should we give chase?” asked James.
“He’ll be gone. I’m certain he ran to the front as we ran to the back. He was probably gone when we found Horace’s body.”
“Who would have known how to get into your desk?” asked Nick.
Nate only shrugged. But he knew only one person who could get into the desk that quickly.
His father, the Duke of Bancroft.
*
Sergeant Fisk and his men had been near Grayson’s building, but none of them had seen the man who’d killed Horace, then fled with the ledgers. Fisk interviewed Alex, Win and the others in Grayson’s flat.
“Who do you think killed Warren?” Fisk asked. “Another of the late Mr. Pierce’s relations?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Win. “Horace and Clive didn’t get along well. I cannot imagine them working together. And I particularly cannot imagine Clive being sober enough to first shoot Horace with such accuracy, then double back and steal the ledgers so quickly.”
“About that theft…it looks like the villain knew exactly where to look. And, even more surprising, how to open that fancy desk. Most men I know would’ve had to use an axe. But this man had a much lighter touch. And nothing else was taken, you say, my lord?” he asked Grayson.
“Not at first glance.”
“And we weren’t gone that long,” said Colin. “I’m surprised he was able to open the desk that easily.”
“Quite,” said Fisk, still taking notes, but stealing glances at Grayson. “And you weren’t able to make a copy of either ledger?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“It’s just as well you didn’t,” said Alex. “The person possessing them could be in danger. If possible, Sergeant, I would ask that you mention there are no copies when you talk to the press. It would be in everyone’s best interests.”
“I agree, sir.” He finished taking notes. He hesitated for a moment. “Is it true what I’m hearing? Are you really leaving chambers?”
“I fear I have no choice. I don’t think Sir Wilfred would allow me to stay.”
“And I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why. I might be able to do something about that.”
Alex certainly wouldn’t mind having Sir Wilfred removed from his position, but he feared it would raise the suspicions of the other officials who were in the ledger. If it were just his safety at risk, he’d do it. But there were too many others who could be hurt. And he’d never place Win in danger.
“I’m afraid things will have to stay as they are. But I thank you for the offer and everything you’ve done in this case.”
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant,” said Win. “We are in your debt.”
She kissed him on the cheek and the battle-hardened sergeant blushed.
“Yes, well, I was glad to help. I’ll be relating all of this to Joseph Stapleton in my next letter, if you don’t mind. It couldn’t hurt to have his thoughts on this, as well.”
The sergeant left and it was time to go back to Lynwood House.
“I shall see you all on the morrow,” said Grayson.
“I’d like you to come with us,” said Colin. “We can’t risk having the killer return here tonight.”
“But why would he? He has what he came for.”
“Nevertheless, I’d rather you accompany us. We can revisit the matter on the morrow. Lewis, you, too, shall be joining us.”
“But I have my rooms in chambers.”
“Yes. And there is a corrupt barrister in the same building who may get nervous enough to kill. Lynwood has the room. I daresay we each could have our own wing, if we so chose. Let us all go back to the house without delay. I have a wife waiting for me, which beats arguing with you lot.”
“You really are besotted with your wife, aren’t you?” asked Grayson.
“Most definitely. You should try it sometime.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was almost four when Win finally lay down in bed. She couldn’t remember feeling this relieved. She was exhausted but at peace. Alex was safe. Jane had treated the cuts he’d sustained from the manacles. Win liked knowing he was under the same roof.
She felt terrible that he’d lost his position in chambers. It was most unfair. And he would surely hate her for ruining his life. He’d worked so hard to attain his profession and now it had been taken away from him. She had to figure out a way to make it up to him.
There was a knock on the door. Perhaps Rose had come to spend the night. But Win opened the door to find the Duchess of Lynwood, instead.
“Oh, good,” said Rosalind. “I’m so glad you have not yet retired. How are you feeling?”
“Much better, thank you. I’m sorry we awakened you.”
“I couldn’t have slept until I heard the entire story, anyway. How brave you were – and your Mr. Lewis.”
“He is not my Mr. Lewis,” demurred Win, though liking the sound of that impossible thought.
“Is he not?” asked Rosalind with a smile. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Of course.”
“I hate to ask, but Jane has been so tired as of late because of the baby.”
“Daniel is a wonderful babe.”
“Actually, I was referring to Ned. I love him dearly, but poor Jane doesn’t get any sleep because any time Daniel makes the slightest noise, Ned frets. I want her to get some much-needed rest, so I was wondering if you would go check on Mr. Lewis.”
Win was immediately worried. “Are his injuries worse than they appeared?”
Rosalind blushed just a bit, which made Win suspicious. “I am not an expert, but it would be dreadful if his condition were to worsen without anyone to look after him. So if it is not too much trouble, I was hoping you could go to his bedchamber and….tend to his needs.”
Now Win knew something was up. “When you say I should ‘tend to his needs,’ what do you have in mind, exactly?”
The duchess’s color was now approaching a bright red. Then she grinned. “I suspect you will have to find out for yourself. Win, you must go to him. He’s too proper to come to you.”
Always Have Hope (Emerson Book 3) Page 23
