by Rebecca King
“What do we do?” Joe asked. He removed the gun from the man’s limp hand and tucked it into his pocket, and then stood back to study the corpse. “How do we go about finding out who he is?”
“If it is Sayers, his empire will continue to rumble for a while. Then someone new will take over and make their identity known,” Barnaby warned.
“Or Sayers will be completely ignorant of what has gone on in Smothey, and will carry on as normal,” Marcus replied.
“We have the rest of the gang rounded up. If we put them somewhere nobody can find them; their contacts might never know what has happened,” Joe added.
Marcus nodded. “At some point, someone will appear to find out where they are.”
“Or another courier will turn up looking for their contact,” Joe added.
“We need someone who can take a sketch of this man’s face. Sayers’ father is in Newgate. We can take the picture to him and get him to confirm whether this man is his son or not,” Barnaby suggested.
“Is he going to be honest, though? Wouldn’t he lie to protect his son?” Marcus challenged. “I think it would be better to ask the rest of his gang we already have in custody. They may be willing to talk once they know he is dead, especially if the information they give buys them a lighter sentence.”
Kieran snorted. “What if he has lied to them as well?”
“What do you mean?” Marcus asked curiously.
“Sayers lies all the time about his true identity. What is to say that he hasn’t lied to his colleagues as well?” he explained.
“These are crooks of the worst kind; people who will lie to protect themselves. We can ask the gang what this man’s real name is. If they all give us different answers, then someone has to be lying somewhere,” Marcus sighed.
This time, Barnaby nodded. “We can pressure them into telling the truth or have additional time on their sentence for obstructing justice.”
“It could work,” Kieran reasoned.
Marcus nodded, but his attention had already turned elsewhere.
“We need to find Jess, and put that fire out if it hasn’t been extinguished already. Then we need to take a look at Mr Grant’s house. I have a feeling that with the gems Ben has in his pocket, and the contents of the Grant house, we may have stopped one very valuable branch of Sayers’ empire, regardless of who this man is. Sayers may not be dead, but that will work to our favour because while his crimes continue, he risks being found. The more we work on this, the more networks we can bring to a halt. At some point, it will become obvious who this Sayers person is.”
“Let’s get back and see to the house,” Barnaby growled. “We have a lot to do now.”
Barnaby and Kieran carried the corpse back through the woods to Jess’ house. Once there, they left him in the undergrowth, away from prying eyes, and turned their attention to the flames flickering in the upstairs window. As if to prove that it was already too late to gather evidence from any of the lodger’s rooms, the upper floor suddenly caved in.
The loud crash as the walls came down echoed all around them.
“Jess,” Marcus screamed.
He tried to race toward the house, filled with the horror at the thought that she might have gone back inside to try to save what remaine of her home. Tears stung Marcus’ eyes, but they didn’t even register on him. The world ceased to exist as the burning image of Jess’ beloved home crumbling to dust settled deep in the darkest recesses of his memory to return to haunt him later.
“Jess!” Marcus screamed again. He tried to run toward the house but was held back by his colleagues. No matter how much he fought them, he couldn’t break free of their restraining hold.
Ben was tackled by Barnaby in the middle of the garden before he was engulfed by the cloud of debris that billowed through the smoke filled air. When he tried to get back up, he found himself pinned to the ground where it was safe.
“Let me go,” Marcus demanded.
“You can’t go in there,” Kieran warned him.
Marcus refused to listen. He wrestled his arms free of Joe’s gentle yet firm hold; Marcus raced around the house. He stumbled and fell over the bricks and mortar that littered what had once been the lawn.
Jess was lost in the daze of watching her life fall to the ground. She stared at the space where a house had once stood; disbelieving that it could ever happen.
Was it real? Had everything just tumbled to the ground as though it had was built out of straw?
All of the work, all of the worry, all of the heartache she had endured over the years in that house had gone; vanished in an instant.
She frowned at the vague sound of someone calling her name. It filtered through the smog, the shattered emotions, and the heavy sound of the rain falling around her. When it sounded again, she jumped to her feet. The wild flurry of relief and hope rejuvenated her and poured life and light back into her battered senses.
“Marcus,” she whispered hopefully. Tears gathered on her lashes. Her voice came out no louder than a croak. She swallowed but then realised her throat was sore. She staggered forward, following the sound of his voice when he shouted her name again.
“Marcus?” she called. This time, her voice was blessedly louder. “Marcus?”
Temporarily forgetting about Lloyd, she stumbled and slipped her way through the debris. When she emerged through a thick plume of density to emerge into the clearer air, she immediately saw a desperate looking Marcus striding toward her.
“Marcus?” she gasped. Her knees nearly buckled to see him alive and well. There was no sign of Sayers, but she didn’t care where he was.
The man she really needed to see was there, right in front of her.
“Jess,” he growled. Within seconds he swept her into his arms and simply held her as tightly as he could.
Nobody moved or spoke. The house was beyond saving now, and they all knew it.
Ben, still on the grass, watched the burning outline of the kitchen disappear beneath the ceiling joists, and shook his head in despair. He had always wanted to live somewhere new, but not like this. Never like this. Everything had gone. They now had no money and no earthly way of purchasing anywhere else to start again.
“At least you are alive, son,” Barnaby murmured as he clapped the stricken lad on the shoulder. “For your help in all of this, we will see you right. We won’t allow you to be left out on the street.”
Ben nodded and turned to Jess, who was wrapped safely in Marcus’ arms.
“Another one down,” Barnaby sighed with a rueful shake of his head.
He didn’t explain when Ben looked questioningly at him. Maybe one day, when they were sitting in the pub with a pint of ale, the rest of the men from the Star Elite would regale the lad with their adventures on the romancing pathway. For now, it was important to get matters wrapped up with Sayers they could all move on.
Marcus leaned back to look at Jess’ beloved face. His voice shook with the depth of the emotion that still held him in ruthless claws.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” he demanded huskily. “When I couldn’t see you, and watched that damned thing come down, my world crashed with it. Everything, every ray of hope, every dream, and expectation in life I have ever had went with it. Don’t – ever – do – that – to – me – again. I won’t ever lose you. I won’t ever let you walk away without me by your side.”
“I love you,” she whispered. “I have tried not to. I know I cannot compete with London. I know I have no skills and no understanding of the work you do. I know I have nothing to offer you but me, and it is not much. But I promise you that I will love you unconditionally for the rest of my life.”
She was forced to stop when Marcus placed a finger over her lips.
“That’s all I want, Jess. All I need is you, me, us, and the rest of our lives together,” he whispered.
His throat closed, and he found himself unable to say the words he wanted to say. It was the wrong time and the wrong place to tell he
r of the future he wanted right now. He would have to wait until later when they could be alone.
Jess jumped when two men staggered past carrying the heavy weight of Sayers’ lifeless body.
“Is that-?”
“Yes, it is,” Marcus whispered.
He turned her until she was facing him, not least because the man had half of his head missing and he didn’t want her to witness the gory sight.
“I have to go and see Mr Grant’s house. If you don’t want to come with me, then I can leave you here with Ben. But Smithers is inside Mr Grant’s house, and we need to get to him before he destroys too much in the way of evidence. I want this job done, Jess, so you and I can get on with our lives.” His voice shook with emphasis, but he wanted her to know just how important this was to him, her, and them.
She nodded her understanding.
“It’s alright, but please let me come with you.” She couldn’t bear to be parted from him. Just the thought of him disappearing again made her want to scream.
It wasn’t the sight of Sayers’ body that disturbed her, although that was a visible warning of the dangers that had surrounded them all. It was just the thought that something might happen to Marcus while he went after the rest of Sayers’ gang that left her distraught. She couldn’t abide life if she lost Marcus or Ben. The house could be rebuilt. She could find somewhere else to live. But her brother was family, and a man like Marcus was irreplaceable.
“Just stay close to me,” Marcus murmured.
It was then that he realised she was holding something. His eyes popped wide, and he looked at her in astonishment.
“Jess? Where did you get that from?” He carefully relieved her of the gun that hung from her limp fingers and stared at it in shock.
Jess looked a little sheepish. “Well, I was a little busy while you were away.”
“What?” He grew worried.
She coughed and nodded toward the thicket. “Come and see.”
Aware that the men were staring at her, she led them over to where she had abandoned Lloyd.
Marcus knelt beside him and studied the large lump on the man’s temple, and shook his head in dismay.
“What happened?” He demanded.
Jess told him everything Lloyd had revealed to her.
“So, he has been trying to keep everyone away from Mr Grant’s house,” he murmured. He looked at Barnaby. “We need to get an interim magistrate here.”
“When you said he was corrupt, I just thought he broke the law around here. I didn’t realise he was part of Sayers’ mob,” Barnaby growled.
This time, when Barnaby looked at Jess, there was a deep respect in his eyes. Barnaby was relieved that Marcus had found a woman who was so calm, and strong. She astonished him. Her life was in tatters right now but, although she was upset, she still had the foresight and determination to thwart a much bigger man. Not only that, but she had been level headed enough to stay and keep guard over Lloyd while she watched her home burn to the ground.
He had never met a woman who had amazed him more.
No wonder Marcus fell for her Barnaby mused wryly and turned a look on his friend.
He knew Marcus well enough to recognise the emotion on his friend’s face. Marcus adored the beautiful woman he just couldn’t take his hands off, and Barnaby couldn’t blame him.
“You have done an incredible job,” Barnaby assured her. “Thank you.”
Jess nodded, but couldn’t say much or she would burst into tears.
“What happens now?” she asked Marcus as she cuddled close.
Marcus kissed the top of her head and savoured having her against his side.
“The rest of the gang have already been arrested, but we need to go and take a look at Mr Grant’s house,” he murmured. “I am sorry about the house, Jess.”
“It’s alright,” she replied with a shaky smile. “Just don’t leave me here alone now.”
“Believe me, when I tell you that you will never be alone again,” he whispered.
“We need to go to Mr Grant’s house,” Barnaby began. He turned to Marcus. “Do you want to head to the tavern or something?”
“No, I am coming with you,” Marcus replied. He looked down at Jess.
“I am coming too,” she said firmly.
Marcus nodded. He couldn’t think of a better place for her to be.
Minutes later, they left Lloyd tied up next to Sayers body, and all set out for Mr Grant’s house.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As they walked, Marcus pointed out sharp sticks and dips in the pathway, and never released his grip on her hand. He treated her with such tender loving care that she felt the most protected person in the world, and it endeared him to her even more.
By the time Mr Grant’s house came into view, a few more kisses had been exchanged, and Jess had no doubt in the world he cared about her as much as she did him.
Her joy was short-lived, though, when the men drew their guns and that atmosphere turned menacing.
Barnaby threw Marcus a hard look. “You stay here with Jess.”
He nodded to Ben, who cocked his gun.
“Ben?” Jess gasped in astonishment.
He threw her a look that was considerably more mature than any she had ever seen from him before. It startled her. This was a new side to her brother that was simply him showing that he was no longer her little brother. At some point over the past few years, in fact, since Marcus’ arrival in the village, her defiant younger brother had turned into a man.
It was shocking to watch him move stealthily into the trees in the same way as she had seen Marcus do. She had to wonder what other change in her brother she had missed.
“He will be alright,” Marcus assured her when he saw the shock on her face.
He knew the formation of the team. The men flanked either side of the house, front, and back, while two men went in through the back door. At Barnaby’s whistle, the men all converged on the house in unison. Doors were kicked in at the front, and the back of the house and everyone stormed inside.
Marcus suspected from the silence that followed that there was either nobody in the cottage, or the demise of the occupant he knew had been in their earlier, was complete.
“What are they doing?” Jess whispered, unnerved by the silence.
“They are searching the house to make sure it is safe,” he explained and took the opportunity to drop a swift kiss on her lips.
Barnaby appeared in the doorway and gave Marcus the all clear signal.
“Where are the captives?” Marcus asked as he approached the house. He hadn’t seen any of them at all since they had been left trussed up in the undergrowth.
“They are under guard,” Barnaby replied. “Jacob’s around here somewhere with them. They won’t get away from him, even if they do wake up.”
Marcus nodded, happy to leave that part of the clean-up operation to the men.
“You may want to stay out here,” Barnaby warned with a cautious look at Jess.
Jess saw what he meant but wasn’t going to be thwarted. She didn’t want to be prevented from witnessing the harsh reality of what she had accommodated in her home.
“I need to see for myself what they have been doing. These criminals have dragged me into this. I deserve to know who they truly are.”
Barnaby opened his mouth to object, and looked at Marcus worriedly, but Jess swept past him. Neither man had the time to haul her back, and stop her entering the kitchen.
Marcus followed her and swore at the scene that awaited them.
Placing his gun into his cloak pocket, he put his hands on his hips and surveyed the contents of the table Kieran and Joe were rifling through.
“Now why would you do that?” he murmured as he eyed Smithers’ body swinging silently from the rafters. “Or did someone else do it to you?”
He knew the dead man wasn’t going to give him any answers so turned his attention to the rest of the room. It was clear that the gang had abandoned it
quickly. Papers and drawings were strewn haphazardly across the floor in a trail that led straight to the fireplace. The flames that had once burnt there had died down now. However, visible in the ash were the edges of the unburnt papers. Marcus scooped the untouched papers out of harm’s way and put them on the table before he turned to the rest of the contents that littered the wooden surface.
“What is it?” Jess asked, staring at the various pieces of equipment that helped cover the entire surface of the table-top.
“Forgery,” Marcus replied.
Barnaby peered up into the face of Smithers and shook his head. “He must have a lot to hide.”
Reassured by the calm, unflappable manner of the well-armed men in the house, Jess began to relax for the first time that morning. Wandering around, she studied the ghost of the life of Mr Grant, and the left-over items of the men who had used it for their crimes.
Eventually, she returned to Marcus’ side.
“They look like gems,” she whispered as she studied the tiny pieces of brilliant stones Marcus was poking through.
“They aren’t the gems they had stashed in your house,” Marcus replied. “Ben found those. Thankfully, he had the foresight to remove them before the house collapsed. Unfortunately, we do not have the evidence they were in Sayers’ possession at some point.”
“We can continue to call him Sayers’ for the time being until we have proof of his real identity,” Barnaby warned.
Jess picked up what looked like a plate of some kind that was still in the process of being carved. “It looks like a banker’s note.”
“The man you know as Ball is nothing more than a thug. He is as dumb as anyone could be. He doesn’t have the intelligence for something like this or the patience. Ball is a fighter; a bully. This is too intellectual. This is Abernathy’s work, or Brammall’s.”
