by David Liss
“Clear the road, rascal!” he cried to Chance, but the thought of slowing his horse apparently never occurred to him, and so it was that he charged directly into the man who had so recently been the savior of an innocent boy.
Chance spun and was able to avoid the hooves of the horses, but he was nonetheless knocked to the ground, where he slid away from the phaeton. He did not slide enough, and one of its wheels rolled directly over both his legs. The driver of the phaeton turned, saw what he had done, and spurred his horse farther away. The onlookers shouted and reached into the gutters for turds to hurl, but he was far too fast for their missiles to strike home.
Mr. Chance uttered the most pitiable of cries, but then fell silent and lay like a broken geegaw in the street. Elias rushed forward and first examined the man’s face, to determine if he lived and then if he was conscious. Seeing that he was alive though dead to the world, he then examined his legs. He ran his hands down each one, and they came up covered with blood. Elias’s face grew dark with concern.
“One leg merely has contusions,” he said. “The other is quite broken.”
I nodded, trying to think nothing of the pain of the thing, for I myself had suffered the breaking of a leg—a wound that ended my career as a pugilist. Elias had tended to me, however, and though many thought I should lose the limb outright, or at the very least never walk again, he had nursed me to near full recovery. I doubted his enemy, even if sensible, could understand his good fortune in his surgeon.
“Help me get him inside!” he shouted to me.
Together we took the man into the tavern and set him down upon a long table. Elias then gave a boy a list of supplies and sent the young fellow to the nearest apothecary. During this dismal period of waiting, the unfortunate Chance became sensible and cried out in the greatest pain. Elias fed him small sips of wine, and after a moment he managed to utter a few words.
“Damn you, Gordon,” he said. “If it comes out that you killed me so you would not have to duel, then you shall hang for it.”
“I confess it had been my plan,” he answered, “but now that you have discovered it, I shall have to formulate another.”
The jest appeared to confuse Chance, who swallowed more wine. “Save my leg,” he said, “and I shall forgive your crime.”
“Sir,” Elias said, “I am so awed by your bravery and sacrifice in saving that boy that I promise I shall comply with your challenge upon your recovery, if the prospect of shooting me full of lead will encourage you to heal the sooner.”
The man then lost consciousness, mercifully so, I thought. Soon thereafter, the boy arrived with Elias’s equipment, and he went to work setting the wound and then delivering the man to his home. I shall not have occasion to speak of Chance in this history again, but I will tell the curious reader that he made a near full recovery, and thereafter sent Elias a note expressing that the debt between them was, in his mind, paid. I do not know if such a thing would have transpired had I not talked Elias out of sending Mr. Chance a bill for the services rendered and expenses laid out. Nevertheless, I believed Elias had the better bargain.
Once all was over, we sat in an alehouse while Elias calmed himself and recovered his spirits. He was mightily tired from his exertions, and in him such fatigue always led to a strong appetite for food and drink. He hunched over his plate, eating quickly of cold meats and buttered bread, talking excitedly between bites. “A rather funny business, don’t you think, all this fussing about women? Oh, you have ruined my wife! Oh, you have ruined my sister! Oh, you have ruined my daughter! Can they not leave me alone?”
“Perhaps,” I proposed, “you might consider being more prudent before bedding any more women. It may be inconsequential to you, but clearly it is not inconsequential to the men with whom they must deal. I suspect your presence is felt long after you’ve departed.”
He grinned. “I like to think so.”
“You know that’s not what I mean. Surely you cannot imagine that these women can go back to their happy lives once their husbands or brothers or fathers have discovered their dalliances. Have you no concern for that?”
“Really, Weaver, you are being rather a bore about this. It’s not as though these women don’t understand the nature of their actions. If they choose to have a bit of fun with me, why should I deny them the pleasure?”
It would have been easy to explain why, but every bit as pointless. Elias had no ability to refuse women, even plain and ungainly ones. He had never had any restraint in this matter for as long as I’d known him, and it would be foolish to imagine that any efforts on my part would alter his behavior now.
He looked at me, as though awaiting more lecturing, and when he did not receive it he swallowed a mouthful of chop. “Well, Weaver, you wanted to see me about something before. I own there was a bit of a distraction, but we can discuss the business now. Good a time as any.” He gulped down some ale. “I expect you need my assistance in some inquiry or other. I’m happy to provide it, but you ought to keep in mind I laid out all my ready on the surgical equipment for Chance. Pay my reckoning, and you shall have my full attention.”
I was hardly a man with an excess of cash, and I resented his proposing this arrangement only after ordering heartily, but I lacked the will for argument, so I acquiesced.
“Can you listen or are you too disordered by the day’s events?”
“I cannot say,” he answered. “You had better make the tale interesting.”
“Oh, I think this one will not fail on its own merits,” I said, and began to recount to him all that had happened, from my first meeting with Cobb to my most recent encounter with my uncle. During the course of my tale, Elias ceased to eat. Instead he stared, half at me, half at nothing at all.
“Have you ever heard of this Cobb?” I asked when I was finished.
He shook his head slowly. “Never, which I think you’ll agree is remarkable. A man of that sort, with so much money—it seems impossible that I should never have heard of him, for I know everyone who is known.”
“You appear to be too stunned to eat,” I observed. “I admit that my tale is strange, but you’ve heard stranger. What, then, startles you so?”
He pushed the plate away, apparently experiencing an unprecedented loss of appetite. “As you well know, Weaver, I’m not a man who likes to live within his means. That is why the Lord invented credit, so we can use it. And I am, in general, quite good at managing my affairs.”
Discounting those times that I’d been called to rescue him from sponging houses after an arrest for debt, he was generally correct, and I said as much.
“I’ve discovered that, in the past few days, someone has been making a point to purchase my debts. Not all that I owe, mind you, but a good amount. As near as I can tell, some three or four hundred pounds’ worth of arrears has been consolidated into a single hand. I’ve been wondering why, and why this person hasn’t contacted me, but I believe I now understand.”
“Cobb pursues my friends,” I mused. “Why? You could not relieve my burden with him, so your debt will not make the difference. Why should he wish you to owe him?”
Elias seemed now to recall his appetite, and he brought his plate closer. “I don’t know,” he said, giving the meat a stab with his knife, “but I think it might be wise to find out. Sometime before I am arrested, if you please.”
CHAPTER FOUR
HE MOMENT I TURNED THE CORNER ONTO SWALLOW STREET AND approached Cobb’s house, I found myself surrounded at once by a crowd of some four or five urchins, the very ones I had seen during my previous visit. “I know you,” one of them said. He was not ten years old; his face and hands were covered with soot, and a pasty brown substance I did not care to ponder streaked his young face, making his bright blue eyes seem all the brighter. “You’re that spark what saved Crooked Luke from the fart catcher, ain’t you?”
“I never heard his name, but I did help the child,” I agreed.
“What’s your business with them, then?
” he asked, gesturing with his head toward Cobb’s house.
I stopped and studied the young fellow. “What’s yours?” I held up a pair of coppers to sweeten our discourse.
He laughed and snatched the coins from my hand with such speed and dexterity it gave me cause to wonder if I’d ever held them at all. “Oh, I ain’t got much business with that Edgar and his gents. Nah, we just love to give them something to get angry about, on account of Edgar thinking he’s so much above us. He loves to chase us off, he does, and it drives him devilish angry when we break open their place, which is half the reason we do it.”
“And what is the other half?”
He grinned at me, showing a mouth full of the black teeth of an old man. “The other half is for the rhino. They got plenty what’s easy to sell for it.”
“What do you know about Cobb?”
He shrugged. “Not much as I can say. He don’t come out a lot, and when he do, he gets pushed into his coach right quick. We’ve jeered at him like we done with Edgar, but he don’t pay us mind.”
“Do they receive visitors often?”
“Not what I seen.”
“Have you seen anything unusual about them?”
He gave this question some thought. “Only that there’s hardly anyone in there. Big house like that, with two gentlemen and just the one servant, if you can credit it. Other than that, I can’t say much about them. They stay all quiet-like.”
“That will have to do for the moment, then.” I handed him my card. “If you observe anything of note, come find me.”
He looked at the card with the blank curiosity of the most ignorant savage. “What is it?”
“It’s a card,” I said. “It has my name and directions upon it. If you need to find me, ask someone to read it for you.”
He nodded, as though I had explained some ecclesiastical mystery.
With the urchins continuing to watch me from the street, I knocked upon the door, and in a moment Edgar came and looked me over with a critical eye. “I’m surprised it took so long for you to return.”
“Are you, now?” I punctuated my question with my fists. I struck him squarely in the nose, more with finesse than strength, and that organ erupted at once in a fount of blood. The servant fell back against the door, and I stepped forward, launching another blow to his face before he could sink to the ground. This one struck his jaw, and I felt confident I dislodged a tooth or two.
The gathered urchins let out a cheer, so I dragged the footman to the stoop and closed the door behind him. I would let the children make of him what they would. My only concern was that I deal with Cobb while he was free of anyone who might interfere.
I marched into the sitting room and found Cobb, as though prepared for me. I thought it fortunate that Hammond was not present, as he took a much harder position than did his uncle. Indeed, the older man sat placidly, sipping at a glass of wine and wearing his amiable smile. I would have none of it. I drew my blade and put it to his throat. “What do you want?”
He looked at the blade but did not flinch. “You’re the one who’s come bursting into my home,” he pointed out. “Perhaps that is my question for you.”
“Don’t play games with me, sir, or you shall find yourself answering my questions while you stare at the tip of your nose on the floor.”
“I don’t think you want to antagonize me, Mr. Weaver. Not while I’m in a position to hurt you and your friends. As you have surely discovered by now, not only you but some of your associates have become my debtors. I should hate that any or all of you should rot away your lives in debtor’s prison, though I suspect your uncle could resolve his problems should he sell his business and beggar himself, but I am certain he is loath to do that. Yet the fortunate news is that he need not do any such thing. That more salutary outcome is, as you have surely surmised, in your hands.”
“What is it you want of me?”
“Put away the blade, sir,” he said. “It shan’t do you any good. You won’t hurt me while I have so much power of you, and there is no reason why we cannot be friends. I think, when you hear what I have to say, you will find I am not an unreasonable man. I have no doubt that my methods will remain distasteful to you, but things will be far easier than you perhaps imagine.”
He was certainly right that I could not stand all day with a sword to his throat, and I would be loath to harm him when he could do so much damage to my friends. I sheathed the blade, helped myself to a glass of wine, and sat across from Cobb, staring at him contemptuously. “Tell me, then.”
“It is a simple matter, Mr. Weaver. I have a great deal of admiration for you and your abilities, and I wish you to work for me. I went to considerable trouble to ensure that you will do so. I hope you will forgive the masquerade I constructed, but I believed it the best way to secure your services and for you to understand that you dealt with no ordinary man.”
“The trouble of making me your debtor, destroying my uncle’s business, and buying Mr. Gordon’s debts was surely more costly and laborious than simply hiring me. Why did you not offer to pay me for my services?”
“I did, but to my regret you declined.” He must have seen my unknowing gaze, for he let out a breathy sort of laugh, took a drink, and began to answer my unstated question. “Not me, personally, you understand, but an associate. Not two weeks ago, a Mr. Westerly called upon you—perhaps you recall—offering quite a bit of money to perform a service, but you would have none of it. When it became evident you could not be hired for our needs, more extreme measures had to be devised.”
I recalled this Mr. Westerly, a short, obscenely fat man who could walk only by swinging his arms with considerable strength to gain the momentum he required. He had been polite enough, deferential, full of encomiums upon my talents. None of that signified, however, for what he asked me to do had not only been impossible but foolish to the extreme, and I had turned him away with apologies. “Westerly works for you?”
“The precise hierarchy is not, in my opinion, important. Suffice to say, I have already taken your advice and attempted to hire you, and you have said no. As I could not do without you, and you would not sell your time by choice, I was forced to compel you to serve.”
“And if I refuse to do what you ask, you will then ruin my friends and myself?”
“I should hate to do that, but yes.”
“And if I do comply?”
Cobb smiled winsomely. “If you do all I ask, I shall make your debt disappear, and your friends’ difficulties shall likewise vanish.”
“I mislike having my hand forced,” I told him.
“I should be very surprised if you did like it, but I promise all will be made easy. I shall happily pay you thirty pounds for this particular service, which I think you will agree is a very generous fee. And when you have done all that is required, you and your friends shall be under no further obligation to us. All very reasonable, I think you’ll agree.”
I felt anger surge through me. I hated, hated to my core, to allow this man to treat me as his plaything, to serve him whether I would or no—his thirty pounds be damned—but what choice did I have? He had been careful to learn what he could of me, and while I would have allowed myself to be dragged off to debtor’s prison rather than do his bidding, I could not let my friends, who had come to my aid so often in the past, suffer now for my pride.
“I cannot like this,” I told him, “and you must know that when I have fulfilled all obligations, you will have to be careful to avoid crossing my path, for I cannot let this treatment be forgotten.”
“It is perhaps a poor negotiating strategy to discourage me from re-leasing you and your friends from my bonds.”
“Perhaps it is,” I agreed. “But you must understand the devil’s bargain you make.”
“Nevertheless, I feel confident that once we part ways you will come to feel differently about me. You will come to understand that though I have forced your hand, I have treated you with generosity, and you will have nothing
ill to speak of me. That is the reason why I shall not let your threats deter me from my generous offer.”
It seemed I had no choice but to act as his pawn for the moment, and the means and method of demonstrating my resentment would have to take shape at a later time. “Perhaps now it would be wise for you to remind me of what it is you wish.”
“Very well,” he said. He suppressed a smile, but I could see he was mightily pleased with himself. I had capitulated. Perhaps he knew I would, but perhaps he had not expected it to be so easy.
I felt a pang of regret. I should have been more intractable, I thought. I should have made him pay for this victory with blood. And then I thought of the brutalized Edgar and comforted myself that his had not been an entirely peaceable victory.
Cobb began at length to explain what it was he wished me to do. He gave no information on why, nor certainly on how, to achieve his goal. There was no mistake, however, that he wished it done, and quickly too. “Had you allowed Mr. Westerly to secure your services, we would have more time to plan, but we haven’t that luxury now. Within the next two or three days, I believe, there is an opportunity that must be seized.”
It was very short time, short time indeed, for me to don the role of housebreaker and force my way into the most heavily guarded estate in the kingdom—a property inhabited by some of the most powerful private men in the world. A scheme of this sort is well planned over the course of months, not days.
“You are mad,” I told him. “How can I hope to break open such a house? They have watchmen and dogs and who knows what matter of protection.”
“It is your task to discover the way,” Cobb said. “Your friends are counting on your ingenuity, are they not?”
“And if you care nothing for your kinsman and associates, the thirty pounds ought to be enough incentive.” It was Hammond. I had not seen him enter, but he now stood at the doorway, sneering at me in his low, pinched way.
