by Rebecca King
“Are there any spare keys?” he murmured.
Marguerite fumbled with the drawer beneath the counter. Her hands shook so much she could barely hold on to the handle, but she yanked the drawer open and began to rummage through the contents.
“They are on a thick bunch,” she whispered. “They aren’t here.”
They both began to search the shop before Joe entered the back room. Dull thuds on the back door warned him that the men seeking entrance were now becoming more forceful in their attempts to gain access. They had seconds to get out.
“Is it these?” he demanded. He held a heavy iron bunch of keys aloft.
“I think so.” Marguerite hoped so in any case because if they weren’t she had no idea what they were going to do.
Joe ran across the shop and began to rifle through the keys. He paused briefly to slide the bolt back and tried the door only to curse when he found it was locked.
“Shut that door, and use whatever you can to block it,” he murmured as he began to try key after key in the lock on the front door. Shaking his head, he tried several more keys until the tell-tale judder of the door signalled success.
“Quickly.” He waved her across the room toward him.
Marguerite ran across the room.
“Wait,” he sighed. “Look, slow down. Calm down. We are going out onto the street now. It won’t do any good for them to see we have any idea they are trying to get in around the back. We will lock up as though we have done nothing more than check on the property.”
Marguerite nodded. It went against every instinct that was screaming at her right now to turn tail and run for her life. In the end, she followed him nervously out of the shop and waited for him to lock the door. Her gaze scoured the street on either side of them continuously while she waited for what seemed like an age for him to finish locking the door and face her.
In the same moment that Joe turned to face her, a man appeared out of the alley. His vile gaze immediately landed on them. He stepped toward them at the same time that Joe grabbed a hold of her hand and yanked her after him as he took off in the opposite direction.
“Run!” He shouted when he saw the now familiar sight of Sayers black carriage turn into the end of the road.
There could be no doubt that he was outnumbered right now, especially when the man leaving the alley was swiftly followed by four other men.
Marguerite glanced at the carriage rolling steadily toward them and fought a scream. There was something about it that was horrifying. It might have been because the carriage was huge and jet black and was pulled with a pure black horse. Or, it could have been the tall, motionless coachman driving it. He was dressed entirely in black, with a muffler covering most of his face and a top hat covering his head. To Marguerite, he looked like death personified.
“Oh, good Lord,” she whispered at the sight of it, and quickly turned away.
“You are alright, just stay calm,” Joe ordered. He tried to keep his voice soothing, but he knew he failed when Marguerite gasped.
“Where has everyone gone?” Marguerite glanced up and down the street and realised it was nearly completely empty. She couldn’t see anything of the men from the Star Elite either. Were they still hidden? Had they vanished as well? Panic began to suffuse her until she physically trembled with fear.
“They are here. Just stay calm,” Joe ordered. “Keep moving.”
Their pace became faster and faster until they were running. Their footsteps echoed hollowly on the cobbles. Joe was aware of the heavy thuds of footsteps behind him as the men gave chase but didn’t bother to stop to look back. He knew that if anyone did draw a weapon, his colleagues would fell them before they posed any danger but that didn’t ease the urgency that rode him. He had to get them both out of sight.
As if to prove the validity of his thoughts, loud bangs suddenly shattered the silence. Several cries and thuds of men hitting the street accompanied her muffled scream of horror. Instinctively, both she and Joe increased their pace as they raced for cover.
Sayers’ black carriage immediately burst into life.
“God, he is determined,” Joe grunted when he saw the horse charging toward them.
Marguerite couldn’t reply. She was too busy gasping for breath. She glanced back in time to see the blacked-out window slide slowly down. It was too dark to see inside, but she had little doubt that it was Sayers.
Joe almost yanked her off her feet as he hauled her around the corner of a building and into the neighbouring alley. Thankfully, they were now out of sight of the carriage, but he knew it was a temporary situation at best.
Kerrigan suddenly stepped in front of them, his weapon drawn in readiness.
“Go,” he ordered them both with a nod over his shoulder.
Joe hauled Marguerite down the alley after him only to curse bitterly when Sayers’ carriage appeared at the opposite end of it.
In that moment, Kerrigan began to fire his weapon at the men who had appeared on the street; men who were, right now, fighting back.
Joe knew he was on his own. He studied the surrounding alley. There was a break in the walls on either side of them a few feet ahead, but to use it would put them far too close to the carriage. Still, while it was foolish, Joe knew it was their only way out.
“Kerrigan, watch your back,” he shouted, knowing his colleague was engrossed in what was going on in front of him and wouldn’t see the danger creeping up behind.
“Aye,” Kerrigan shouted as he reloaded. He lifted his gun and stepped into the doorway of a building, seconds before a loud boom of gunfire was accompanied by a flash of light from the carriage.
“He is shooting at us,” Marguerite gasped. “Sayers is shooting at us.”
A part of her was horrified while another part of her was furious, at the blackguard for being such a scoundrel. She wished now she had clubbed him over the head with the fire iron like she had considered doing last night.
“It is what he does,” Joe replied grimly. He cursed at the veritable network of yards, small alleys, and dead ends that faced them. Unfortunately, it quickly became evident that if they wanted to get out of the alley, they had to go back the way they came.
“We can’t,” Marguerite cried. “Can’t we just knock on someone’s door?”
“And put an innocent life at risk?” Joe countered. “No, we can’t.”
Marguerite knew he had a point. She didn’t want to draw anyone into this world of danger and mystery. It was awful. It was the most terrifying, unnerving thing she had ever experienced in her life and she wouldn’t wish it on anybody. She had no idea how Joe managed to live a life like this. It was so tenuous; one could lose one’s life at any given moment. She knew she couldn’t stand living with such uncertainty. Because of that, she began to see him in a completely different light.
She had the deepest respect for his courage, determination and sacrifice. Unfortunately, it left her in a quandary because she began to suspect that the swiftness of her reliance upon him came from a deep, feminine awareness of him. This man was strong, confident, and trustworthy. She knew that with Joe by her side there was nothing life could throw at her that couldn’t be conquered. He was everything she could want in a mate, a husband.
The only problem to hang over them was that she knew that by accepting the man, she had to accept this kind of lifestyle, and be aware that each time he left the house he might not come back. She wasn’t at all sure she could.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Joe cursed bitterly at just how swiftly the odds could turn against them. With little choice, they returned to the main alley. Rather than step into view, Joe motioned Marguerite to hide behind him before he hunkered down to checked on Kerrigan. There were still brief bursts of gunfire out on the street, but nothing from the carriage. He peeked around the corner of the building he leaned against and cursed when the brickwork immediately burst into a shower of dust.
“Damn it,” he whispered. “We are trapped.”
/> As long as the men were able to keep firing, nobody could get to them. Marguerite hated to think what might happen if they ran out of bullets.
“We need to run for the entrance Kerrigan is at,” Joe murmured. “I am going to hide us with gunfire, but I need you to run. Don’t stop until you reach Kerrigan. Stay with him. Keep your head down and, whatever you do, don’t step out onto the street.”
“Why? What are you going to do?” she demanded, terrified at the thought of being shot.
“I will be right behind you, but I need to create some cover. Just do as I tell you, Marguerite,” he pleaded.
She nodded nervously.
“Go,” he snapped suddenly.
He pushed her roughly into the alley and stepped after at the same time that he began to shoot. He lifted his second, smaller gun out of his boot and used that too. There was one resultant boom from the carriage but it went wide of both of them.
Marguerite dived into the narrow space behind Kerrigan who nudged her against the door and shielded her with his body.
“She’s home,” Kerrigan called. He then turned to Marguerite. “When I tell you, go straight out of here and right past the shop. Just wait a minute because there are two more we need to clear. The carriage is facing the opposite way. It will give you the ability to get out of here. Joe will know which way to go from there.”
There wasn’t enough room in the doorway for the three of them. Kerrigan used hand signals to Joe to tell him. Both men reloaded their guns and waited for Brandon and Jacob to pick off the three remaining men still left on the street. Finally, they could leave.
“Go,” Kerrigan suddenly snapped and pushed her roughly toward the entrance at the same time that Joe left his cover and began to shoot at the carriage again.
While Brandon and Jacob occupied the men on the street, Kerrigan and Joe fired a volley of shots at Sayers. With his precious carriage being hit, Sayers swiftly moved on and the carriage disappeared from view. Kerrigan and Joe looked at each other and raced for the exit.
Marguerite had no idea what was going on. Her ears hurt from the noise of the gunfire but she daren’t even think about that right now. She couldn’t. If she did, she knew she was going to burst into tears and, this time, she might not stop.
“He can’t follow us,” Joe murmured when they reached the end of the street. “He has to turn that blasted beast around and come after us. On foot, we are faster.”
“Then let’s go,” Kerrigan ordered.
“Do you know something?” Marguerite gasped when they finally eased to a stop several streets away. Her heart pounded so heavily she was struggling to draw breath.
Joe looked at her. “What?”
“I don’t think it is something in that shop they are after,” she gasped.
“Do you think it is your father’s skills they want?” Joe asked as he gasped for air.
“No,” Marguerite shook her head to save herself from having to speak for a moment.
“I think they are protecting something in that shop,” she whispered. “Whatever it is, I think it might be something that my father was likely to have found if he had continued to go there.”
Joe stared at her, and then looked at Brandon and Jacob who had come to join them. He considered that for a moment. There had been no sign of a break in, or altercation inside any of the buildings. It was highly unusual for not only the shop owner but the worker to vanish as well.
Had Donaldson been placed there by Sayers to get hold of the keys and gain access to the property? Had Sayers removed Eustace to stop him reporting the crimes going on there?
It is certainly something Sayers would do, Joe mused.
From the looks on his colleagues’ faces, they all thought the same too.
It stood to reason that they were using the shipments of clocks to transport stolen goods. It was a perfect ruse. After all, a hugely expensive piece of furniture like a clock would be carefully packed, and likely to remain undisturbed until it reached its destination. Someone like Sayers would protect a ruse like that at all costs.
Suddenly oblivious of his colleagues’ thoughtful frowns, Joe stepped forward, clamped his hands on either side of Marguerite’s head and kissed her soundly.
“Oh,” she whispered weakly when he finally lifted his head.
“I think we have just had a major boost in this investigation,” he announced with an air of satisfaction.
“What do we do about it?” Jacob asked. “Do we search the workshop next?”
“I think we have to, don’t you?” Joe replied.
He knew from the look on Marguerite’s face that she was going to insist on going with them.
“I know, you want to come too,” he murmured dryly.
Marguerite nodded.
“Well, there is no time like the present. Sayers was seen high-tailing it out of the area. I think that now we have been there he won’t think that we would return to it. So, if we are going to search it we need to do it quickly before he sends in reinforcements to retrieve whatever he has stashed there.”
“Let’s go then,” Kerrigan murmured.
Marguerite followed the men, suddenly very aware of how tall and strong they were. Lost in the middle of them it was difficult not to be in awe of them. They were all determined and very capable men, who were quite evidently on familiar territory. None of them showed any concern or trepidation about what had happened just now. It was as though it was an ordinary, run-of-the-mill thing to do to shoot someone in cold blood.
She, on the other hand, was a quivering wreck.
“Where are the bodies?” Marguerite gasped with a frown when they turned into the street and found it to be empty.
In spite of the number of bullets that had been fired, there wasn’t a casualty to be seen.
Joe gave her a warning look. “It is best not to ask,” he replied.
Marguerite followed the men in a strange kind of procession to the back of the shop. This time they went to the workshop. Joe hefted the bunch of keys and set to work on the locks. She shuddered with revulsion and quickly turned away. Seconds later, she followed them into the workshop.
The first thing she noticed when they entered was the amount of packaging material littering practically every surface.
“This is wrong,” she declared firmly as she studied the straw all over the floor.
“It is not your fathers?” Kerrigan asked.
“No, he does use this workspace to package everything, but he would never leave his workroom in this state. The fibres from the straw would get into the mechanism of the clocks. If you knew my father you would know that he is fastidiously neat and tidy. He would never work in a mess like this.”
“Would Donaldson, do you think?” Joe asked as he poked through the contents of a workbench that was littered with all sorts of debris.
“My father ran this place, Donaldson ran the shop, or so I thought.”
“Is this likely to be Donaldson’s mess?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “I do know that my father wouldn’t stand for this.”
She moved toward a packing crate the far corner of the room. Kerrigan and Jacob were prowling through the various items littering the shelves lining either side of the workshop. When Marguerite took a step away from the box she was rummaging through, a loud crunch beneath her foot made her look down. She pushed the straw off the object she had just stood on and picked it up. Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned to Joe.
“Look, Joe. It’s a ring,” she whispered.
She lifted it toward the light so she could see it better. While the main stone was still in situ, its mount was now twisted from the pressure of her weight. It was quite evident that it was brand new. The gold shone brightly even in the darkened interior of the workspace.
“What’s that?” Joe took it from her and studied it with Kerrigan.
Marguerite began to rummage through the rest of the straw.
“Is there anything else in
there?” Joe asked.
“Not as far as I can tell,” she replied. “They must have dropped it by mistake when they were packing something.”
“I think it is one of many items they intended to ship out of here. They either didn’t know it was gone or couldn’t find it in the mess. Either way, it is valuable evidence we need to get someone to take a look at.”
Joe didn’t say as much to Marguerite but its discovery didn’t bode well for her father. If he was the one thing standing in Sayers way from a legitimate way of transporting his stolen goods up and down the country then Eustace would be silenced, permanently.
“What are you thinking?” Marguerite murmured when she saw the thoughtful look on Joe’s face. He was up to something.
Joe quickly explained what he suspected, including what might have happened to her father. While she winced, she didn’t start to cry or betray much emotion at all. In fact, she took the suggestion quite calmly, but studied the jewellery he held with much more distaste.
“It may be why Sayers wants you to go with him. You are the one person who could report your father missing, in which case this shop would then have to close,” Joe added.
“If that’s the case, why did he bring the magistrate with him?”
Kerrigan and Joe looked at each other.
“It is just a guess but, the magistrate wanted to search the house. Sayers knew that there was a body still upstairs because he had left it there, and had been watching the place to see if it was moved or not. If Lucas had managed to take a look around the house, the body would have been found. You, Marguerite, would have been arrested for murder,” Joe explained.
“Exactly. You would be guilty until proven innocent seeing as you were the only person in the house with the corpse all morning,” Kerrigan added.
“You would be at Sayers’ mercy, Marguerite,” Joe added. “I don’t doubt you would also have been framed for your father’s suspected murder, seeing as he couldn’t be found. You wouldn’t be able to prove your innocence because you had no witnesses to confirm your whereabouts last night. You were out all alone.”
