As the great, hulking steamship was carefully maneuvered by a pair of rusting tugs, we took an opposing, perpendicular track until we’d reached some distance from where the front of the ship would eventually lie, well concealed among a throng of languishing cargo. “Feeling shy, are we?”
“We’re going to sit here and see if your suspicions have any merit. It’s my show of faith in you.”
“I’m touched.”
He chuckled as he settled in on a pile of boxes, peeking through a slot between a row of crates down to where the ship was docking. I turned my attention to her as she was tied up at her berth and a couple of men muscled her gangplank into position. A handful of sailors were the first to disembark, followed by a short, round, bearded man wearing a disheveled-looking Russian uniform. He went directly to the bobbies clustered at one side of the gangway.
“Must be the captain.”
“He doesn’t look much like a captain,” I said.
“It’s a cargo vessel, not a passenger ship. That chap has little need for epaulets, uniform whites, or reflective shoes. He’d have a hell of a time trying to convince any seasoned crew to follow him with that kind of artifice. His crew is far more akin to pirates than our naval lads. Need I remind you why we’re here?”
I gave him a pointed look before answering, “He looks exactly like the kind of scoundrel who’d kidnap girls for sale.”
“I have to agree. I’d say they were put aboard his vessel with both his knowledge and a sizeable payment, probably half at embarkation and half upon delivery. He won’t be happy about missing that second bit. And his cargo delivery is going to be woefully late as well.” He grinned. “This episode will end up costing him quite a sum.”
“You think they’ll arrest him?”
He shook his head and sighed. “For what? For being a selfless humanitarian who, at great personal expense, turned his ship around the moment he discovered those deceitful young girls stowed away?”
“You cannot be serious. . . .”
“Proof can be a pitiful burden,” he muttered, and I noticed his brow suddenly furrow. “And look at this. Here comes our young charge now.”
I turned and caught a glimpse of Michael heading around behind the small crowd gathered at the gangplank. He was moving slowly, not with the kind of enthusiasm that would be expected, seeming almost reticent, and it made me wonder if there’d been bad blood between him and his sister.
My curiosity was further piqued when he continued to saunter past the waiting queue of people, moving resolutely toward the front of the ship, not far from where we were concealed. Yet, given the number of police milling about, I determined that his hesitation in standing among them made sense, since there was a better than average chance that at least one of the bobbies had run into him at some point in his doggedness to provide for him and his sister by whatever means necessary. I began to feel foolish for not having had some modicum of faith in the boy, but felt better when Colin said, “I’d say the men in blue are keeping our boy from emptying any pockets.”
I started to chuckle when a sudden commotion at the gangplank seized my attention. A tall, clearly overwrought woman in a massive sun hat was howling at the police even as the group of stowaway girls—the scrawniest, scruffiest-looking assemblage I had ever seen—made their first appearance at its top.
“What do you suppose she’s going on about?” I asked as the woman flailed her arms wildly.
“One of those girls is probably her ill-used niece or ward and she’s causing a great fuss in order to deflect the mountain of questions that are bound to come the moment she moves in to claim her. A show of outrage is much more likely to get her what she wants than not.”
“So cynical.”
He shrugged, his brow stitching itself again as I glanced over and saw Michael. He had managed to skirt the agitated knot of people congregated at the gangway, but was now standing almost directly across from us at the ship’s bow. I watched as he slunk around the ship’s moorings as though he knew something no one else did, and after a couple of minutes discovered that, in fact, he did.
The movement on the ship was minuscule, hardly noticeable until the first frail leg, smudged with dirt and filth, popped out and took hold of the forward anchor rope. The second leg quickly followed, allowing me to make out the figure of a young girl as she began to slither down the tether with unmistakable expertise. She was no more than a waif really, much less significant than a girl of almost thirteen should be. Her body was rail thin and she had limp, stringy hair dangling about her shoulders. I knew it was Angelyne, because even as she lowered herself to the dock, Michael never took his eyes from her.
“So you were right,” Colin muttered.
“Well, I didn’t think she was going to shimmy down the rope like vermin, but it would seem given her proficiency that she might have done this before.”
“To be sure. She handles that rope like a gymnast. No wonder he told us not to come. It’s a scam. Only this time something obviously went wrong. And will you look at this. . . .” He gestured to Angelyne as she jumped free only to be swiftly seized by her brother. “Their happy reunion would seem to be little more than rebuke for having fouled things up. That little shit dragged us into this to make sure he’d get her back, always feeding us just enough information.” He abruptly turned and glared at me. “You should’ve been more insistent.”
“What?!” I nearly laughed in his face, but he grabbed me and propelled me farther back into the maze of cartons.
“The little tykes seem to be coming our way,” he groused.
I peeked around the crates and saw that the two of them were indeed heading to almost the exact spot we’d been hiding, moving with great purpose. Michael had a firm grip on Angelyne’s skinny arm, and though I could not hear them yet, it was clear they were in the midst of a row.
“Not a word,” Colin warned needlessly. “Let us allow them to spill their conniving hearts.”
As soon as they’d reached the relative safety of the first row of crates, Michael wheeled around on his sister with unbridled ferocity. “. . . Bleedin’ idiot . . . what in ’ell were ya thinkin’?!”
“Piss off,” came the reply.
“Piss off? Piss off, eh?! Is that what ya woulda told them bloody Cossack bastards when they was tryin’ to bugger ya?”
“I ain’t without means.”
Michael slapped her hard in an attack that would have sent her to the ground had he not still been holding her arm. “Yer jest a stupid pup. You ain’t gonna be worth nothin’ soon anyway. But if ya ever pull a ruddy stunt like that again—”
“Where are ya, ya blasted, sawed-off, half-breed little shite,” a familiar female voice abruptly cut through Michael’s diatribe, causing him and Angelyne to jerk around. “Yer damn lucky yer brother and I didn’t leave ya on that blasted ship!” Mademoiselle Rendell continued to bellow as she stepped across my eye-line clutching an oversized sun hat.
“I thought that was her.” Colin gave a crooked grin.
“You knew that was Mademoiselle Rendell causing that fuss?”
“I suspected she was involved. She was too willing to give up her Bulgarian attaché to make sure we got the information we needed to get that ship turned around. But I didn’t realize about the little one.”
“The little one?” I flicked my eyes back to the three of them. “Angelyne? What about her?”
He smirked, one eyebrow arching high. “Haven’t you figured it out?” I looked from the scrawny girl to Colin and back again, without a single thought entering my vacant brain. “Angelyne is a boy,” he finally said. “See the budding Adam’s apple? It’s a shell game. They sell him as a prepubescent girl with the intention that he’ll sneak off the ship just as it’s on the verge of leaving—before their deception is discovered. That’s how it’s supposed to work. They knew where he was the whole time. They just needed us to figure it out so we could get that ship to come back. They’d lost their golden goose. And they almo
st got away with it had you not been so suspicious.” He grinned as he squeezed my arm and coaxed me forward. “But now it’s time we put an end to this.”
Mademoiselle Rendell had her back to us as we stepped out, but Michael and the other boy spotted us at once. “Oh shite,” Michael said.
Mademoiselle Rendell spun around, and as her eyes landed on us she sagged as though suddenly void of air. “Dammit to ’ell,” she lamented. “I knew gettin’ this pair were a mistake.”
“A mistake?!” Colin said with mock offense. “I’ve been called many things in my life, but never a mistake.”
“I’d be ’appy ta call ya worse.”
“I’d rather hear from the little one.” He turned his attentions to the long-haired boy cowering at Michael’s side. “And what do they call you when you’re not in a dress?”
“Drew, sir,” he answered.
“Drew.” Colin gave a tight smile. “I think it’s time you let him go, Michael, or I’ll separate your arm from your shoulder.” Wisely, the older boy did so at once. “Come over here, Drew.”
“I ought not, sir.”
“It’s all right. Your brother and . . .” He paused.
“. . . Me mum, sir,” the boy piped up, causing my heart to sink.
“Yes.” Colin spoke slowly, his own distaste evident. “Your mum. They’ll not harm you. You’ve nothing to fear from them anymore. This game has come to an end.”
“It weren’t so bad. . . .”
“Well, perhaps you’d prefer to be a boy. Go to school. Learn your disciplines.”
Drew glanced from Michael to Mademoiselle Rendell before turning back to us. He nodded, but said nothing.
“Then you shall have that.”
Drew winced as he stepped away from his brother, clearly expecting a blow that would not come. His scrawny limbs were streaked with the same filth caked on his bare feet, as black as the sludge between the cobbles in the street. I doubted he’d ever had a haircut since that was a part of his ruse, and could tell by the knots and tangles peppered throughout that some time had passed since a brush had been worked through it. The timid voice and abject politeness was a glaring dichotomy to what stood before us, yet to be saleable, he had to be controlled. This pair had done their job appallingly well.
Colin put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and turned him back around to face his mother and brother. “You’ve done your damage to this child for the last time, as you’ll find it impossible to do so from prison. By the time they let you out . . . ,” he flicked his eyes to Mademoiselle Rendell, “. . . the only thing anyone will pay you for is to bugger off. And as for you . . .” He glared at Michael. “You’ll likely end up rather like your little brother here, except that the blokes you’ll be spending your time with won’t pay you for your favors.”
“Ya can’t threaten us,” Mademoiselle Rendell spat back, pulling herself to her full height.
“It is not a threat,” Colin answered. “I give you my word.”
“Yer word. What da you know? Livin’ in yer fancy flat with yer lady waitin’ on ya and ridin’ round in carriages passin’ judgment. You ain’t got no idea. No idea at all.”
“You don’t own hard luck or bad choices,” I sallied back at her. “But your failure to rise above them belongs to you.”
“Ah . . . piss off,” she spat, and before I knew it she launched herself at me, gripping me by the hair. I stumbled backwards with the sudden force of her weight and landed on my backside, her coiled fists flailing at my head with such determination that all I could do was try to ward off her blows until, just as quickly as it had begun, her siege ended.
She let out a pitiful shriek as she was unceremoniously wrenched off me, seeming to levitate into the air by her armpits, her legs and arms batting uselessly as they failed to make contact with anything. I peered up and saw Colin behind her, solid, impermeable, and formidable. He heaved her to the side like a sack of grain into a crumpled heap with nary a grunt, turning to face her with his hands stabbed against his hips. “Next time,” he growled, “I will remove you by the throat!”
“You mustn’t, sir,” Drew spoke up. “She’s just me mum.”
“And I could scarcely be sorrier for that,” he answered. “You tried to play us for fools,” he turned on Michael with a sneer, “acting the part of the loving brother when all along you were nothing more than the snake Mr. Pruitt kept insisting you were. Fifteen years old and without a shred of decency. How proud you must be.”
The young man scowled with the ferocity of the feral thing he was. “You got nothin’ ta say ta me!” he growled back. “All full a yerself when you thought you was helpin’ out the little urchin boy. I think you’re just pissed ’cause I almost got one over on ya.” He snickered. “If that’s your decency then you can shove it up your arse.”
I sucked in an infuriated breath to blast the pompous smirk off his face when I felt Colin’s hand grip my arm and heard him say, “Don’t. Just go fetch us a couple of bobbies.” I did as he suggested, knowing he was right; there was nothing I could say that was going to make a whit of difference to Michael and my protestations were only likely to confirm his point.
In the blink of an eye I returned with a cluster of policemen. We gave a hasty report, based more on Colin’s name than any real substance, but promised a trip to the Yard for a more formal debriefing later. Colin was adamant that we couldn’t go with them just then as he was about to solve the Arnifour murders. The bobbies stared at him with a mixture of skepticism and alarm, but not one of them called him on it.
As we made our way off the pier I felt relieved to be getting away from there. It was a pitiful case, but even so, I could not bring myself to turn back for one last look as the officers led Mademoiselle Rendell, Michael, and little Drew away.
CHAPTER 32
Just over an hour later we were climbing down from a hansom cab onto the cobbled driveway at the Arnifour estate.
As with every visit before, Mrs. O’Keefe only grudgingly allowed us entry, making no effort to hide her disdain at our continual insistence on showing up with neither an appointment nor an invitation nor, as was now the case, even a reason for being there. I glanced at her more closely than I’d meant to as I slid past her, wondering if Kaylin might truly be her daughter and what it would be like to keep such a secret the whole of one’s life. My thoughts earned me nothing more than a ferocious glower from her. Nevertheless, her rabid anger suddenly made some sense and I couldn’t help the trifling pity that gnawed at me as she took us to the same study as always before curtly announcing that we’d be joined by Lady Arnifour at her leisure. It left me wondering if that meant within the hour, the day, or the week.
We settled in to wait the indeterminate time and just as Mrs. O’Keefe was about to take her leave Colin asked whether Victor might be available to join us for a few minutes. She appeared to ruminate on the idea quite thoroughly before finally consenting to let him know we were there. Even so, she slammed the doors with a great deal more bravado than necessary as she left us on our own.
I turned back to Colin to seek his thoughts on Mrs. O’Keefe and what Eldon had told us only to find a deep furrow creasing his brow. “Are you all right?” I asked quietly. “You’re going to need to be on your best behavior if we’re to have any success here. After all, we’re not working for them any longer. . . .”
Inexplicably, the furrow in his brow deepened. “I know that,” he said. “You needn’t worry. I’ll behave.”
I pretended to chuckle but still feared that his impatience would get the best of him and bring our impromptu visit to a frustrating and permanent conclusion. I was on the verge of pressing the point against my better judgment when Victor Heffernan suddenly presented himself, barreling into the room with his usual good cheer. “It’s good ta see ya both,” he said with genuine appreciation.
“And you as well.” Colin smiled and shook his hand. “It’s kind of you to meet with us despite our appalling lack of notice.”
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br /> “I think ya know I’m not one ta stand on ceremony.” He sat down by the fireplace looking more fragile than ever. “I’m hopin’ you’ve come to straighten things out for Nathaniel. He keeps threatenin’ to stow away to America. I don’t know what I’d do without him. That boy’s been the best part of my whole life.” He pinned his gaze on the dancing flames in the fireplace and yet I could see his eyes were glassy. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days and I suspected that was more than likely true.
“I have every intention of proving your son’s innocence,” Colin said, sitting down opposite Victor, “even though he hasn’t made that easy. His unwillingness to trust me has hampered my investigation considerably.”
“I know. He’s as stubborn as his mother was—”
Colin held a hand up, giving Victor a sly smile. “Nathaniel may have slowed me, but he will not stop me. Justice is a belle I like to court. And as I’ve said repeatedly, I believe Nathaniel is innocent. I’ll stake my reputation on it.”
“Then do share.” Lady Arnifour stood just inside the doorway, her face rigid with displeasure. “Just who is it you’ve come to wield your peerless reputation against?”
“Who indeed?” He smiled easily as he stood up. “Would you think any less of me if I demurred my answer for a moment?”
“Don’t be tiresome, Mr. Pendragon. I believe your business with us was concluded on your last visit.”
“And so it was.” He held his smile. “But this visit is solely on me. Please . . . ,” he gestured to a chair, “. . . indulge me.”
I thought her on the verge of expelling us, but after she threw a quick glance at Victor’s glum face she heaved a heavy sigh and perched herself on the edge of the proffered seat. “I must insist you keep this exercise brief.”
“Exercise?” His smile wavered as he cast a quick glance at me. “What an unorthodox way to describe the solving of two murders.”
The Arnifour Affair Page 22
