Late for the Wedding (26 page)

Chapter 27

Emeline and Priscilla walked together to the entrance of the park where they had arranged to meet Anthony and Dominic. Their parasols were raised against the late sun. After a short discussion they had elected to forgo their bonnets so as not to conceal the full glory of their new hair arrangements.

“Dear heaven, I can still feel my pulse,” Emeline said. “I wonder if my heart will ever slow to a normal rate.”

“I am shaky myself.” Priscilla made a face. “Every time I looked in the mirror, the only thing I could see were those scissors in his hand. I kept thinking about all the people he has likely killed.”

“I, for one, will never look at another hairdresser in quite the same way again.”

“Neither will I. It is really most unfortunate that Mr. Pierce is a murderer, though,” Priscilla said wryly. “I will be forever in his debt. In the course of one afternoon, he has changed my entire life by convincing Mama that I do not appear at my best in pink.”

Emeline surveyed the new turquoise walking dress. “He was quite right. You do look excellent in stronger colors.”

“Thank you.” Priscilla spun her parasol. “It turned into a rather exciting day, after all, did it not? I believe we dealt with Mr. Pierce quite cleverly. Do you think that we were born for the stage?”

“Never suggest such a scandalous career to your mama. She would faint dead away. But, yes, I do think we rose to meet the crisis rather nicely. You were especially brilliant.”

“You did quite well yourself. Pierce may not believe that Mr. March and Mrs. Lake will entirely abandon their inquiries because of a lack of a client, but I am certain that he left with the impression that they have made very little progress in their investigations.”

A tiny shudder went through Emeline. “I trust that is the case. Wait until I tell them what happened at Lady Wortham’s today. They will not believe that we found ourselves confronted with their suspect.”

“He obviously set up the appointment with Mama in hopes of learning something about the situation from me. He must have been delighted when he arrived and found you at my house.” She brightened. “Here come Anthony and Dominic. I must tell you, I am almost as astonished by your news that they are half-brothers as I was when I saw Mr. Pierce standing in the front hall.”

“I suppose the connection explains some of the friction between them.” She watched Anthony and Dominic come toward them across the park. “I hope they have been able to put aside their differences now that the truth is out in the open.”

Priscilla tightened her grip on her parasol. “Emeline,” she said with a certain studied casualness, “do you think Mr. Hood will like my new gown and headdress?”

“Priscilla, you look spectacular. Mr. Hood will no doubt fall down and worship at your altar, just as Pierce predicted.”

Priscilla made a little face. “I would rather he showed me how to use his microscope.”

Anthony and Dominic were almost upon them. Emeline realized that they were both moving with long, purposeful strides, not the casual saunter that was the hallmark of fashionable gentlemen. She was even more startled by their attire. They were certainly not dressed for an afternoon promenade in the park. Their boots lacked the gloss of a recent polish, and their comfortably cut coats reminded her of the sort of fashions favored by Mr. March. Even their cravats appeared to have been donned in haste. Neither man had bothered to tie an intricate or stylish knot.

“Something is amiss,” Emeline announced.

Anthony and Dominic came to a halt in front of them.

“What the devil are you two doing here?” Anthony demanded without so much as a polite inclination of his head. His hat was tilted low over his eyes, giving him a sinister air. “Are you both mad?”

“I beg your pardon?” Emeline was incensed at the uncivil greeting. “If you will recall, the four of us made arrangements to meet here today.”

“That was before we learned that you two spent the afternoon with a murderer,” Dominic growled. His hat was also slanted across his brow at a menacing angle.

“You know of my appointment with Mr. Pierce?” Priscilla asked.

“Tobias and Mrs. Lake discovered a note of it when they searched his lodgings.” Anthony glanced from Priscilla to Emeline and back again. “Are you both all right?”

“Yes, of course we’re all right,” Emeline said evenly. “What is more to the point, we believe we quieted any suspicions Mr. Pierce might have had by letting him know that the investigation was not going well.”

Priscilla frowned. “Why are you both dressed so oddly?”

“Mr. March did not allow us much time to prepare for a social call,” Dominic said rather dryly. “He was most insistent that we find you two immediately and see you safely back to Number Seven Claremont Lane. Mrs. Lake wishes to speak with you both immediately. Then we are to escort you directly home, Miss Priscilla.”

“Tobias does not want either of you out and about on your own now that Pierce has taken an interest in you,” Anthony added.

“For pity’s sake,” Emeline grumbled. “We are both quite safe, I assure you. Pierce will have no more use for us now that he’s got the information he wanted.”

“Yes, well, that is precisely the point, isn’t it?” Anthony shot back.

There was a rather sharp edge on his words, Emeline thought. But before she could muster a crisp retort, he took her arm very firmly and hauled her toward the gate.

“I hardly think that we are in any danger,” Priscilla said quickly.

“The man is a murderer.” Dominic took her elbow. “In any event, Tony and I do not have time to waste promenading through the park today. We have work to do.”

“What sort of work?” Emeline demanded, skipping a little to keep up with Anthony’s long strides.

“We are to keep Pierce under observation from sunset to sunrise,” Anthony said. “We have some preparations to make, so we must get you two home.”

She had had enough of this, Emeline thought. “Kindly do not treat us as though we are a pair of silly little girls who cannot be trusted out on our own. I would remind you that Priscilla and I dealt with a murderer today. We are not incompetent.”

“Quite right,” Priscilla said just as forcefully.

Anthony turned his head to scowl at Emeline. The rays of the late-afternoon sun angled beneath the canted brim of his hat, giving her an unshadowed view of his features for the first time.

“Your
eye
.” She came to an abrupt halt, forcing him to stop too. “And your lip. You’ve been hurt. What on earth happened to you, Tony?”

Priscilla stopped just as suddenly and swung around to peer very closely at Dominic’s slightly averted features. “There is a dark bruise on your jaw, sir. Dear heaven, did the murderer attack you last night? How did it happen? Why weren’t we told?”

“Damnation.” Dominic grimaced, winced, and then touched his jaw. “I assure you, it was not Pierce who was responsible for this.”

“Certainly not.” Anthony reddened. “Devil take it, the man’s a
hairdresser
.”

“And also a professional murderer, if Mr. March and Aunt Lavinia are correct in their conclusions,” Emeline pointed out. “But if it was not Mr. Pierce who did this to you two, who was it?”

Anthony exchanged an unreadable glance with Dominic. Then he shrugged.

“It was quite dark in the street outside Pierce’s lodgings last night,” he said. “I accidentally collided with the edge of a stone doorway.”

“I see,” Emeline said. “Doorways can be extremely hazardous.”

Priscilla gave Dominic a searching look. “And you, sir? Did you suffer a similar misfortune?”

“Stumbled on the step,” Dominic muttered. “Struck the railing.”

Chapter 28

Shortly before midnight that evening, Anthony opened the sack of pies he had purchased just before nightfall and took out one of the two remaining meat pies. He offered the sack to Dominic, who lounged against the opposite wall of the narrow alley.

Dominic helped himself to the last pie.

“Tomorrow night I will purchase a larger number,” Anthony promised around a mouthful of leaden pastry.

“It is our own fault that we ran out so quickly,” Dominic reminded him. “In hindsight, we probably should not have given half of our supply to that pair of urchins who chose to spend the night in the doorway of the button-and-ribbon shop.”

Anthony thought about the two youngsters they had met earlier that evening. The boys had been no more than eight or nine years of age, cheerfully brash and impudent and imbued with a streetwise knowledge that would have better suited men of twenty. They had also looked very hungry. Neither he nor Dominic had been able to resist giving them some of their pies. The pair had been delighted and had sped off with their treasures to settle into their doorway at the far end of the street.

“On second thought, maybe I can persuade Whitby to make us a batch,” Anthony said. “I’ll also ask him for some more of that cold salmon and chicken he provided for us this afternoon.”

“An excellent notion. Tell him to double the amount this time in case those two youngsters are in that doorway again tomorrow night.” Dominic munched his pie. “But it may not be necessary. From the sound of it, this business probably won’t continue much longer. March seems very sure that Pierce will make a move soon. He says the hairdresser is not only arrogant, he is consumed with a need to prove that he is as good as the last Memento-Mori Man.”

Time passed. Out in the street, the slant of moonlight shifted slowly. Aside from the odd carriage or cart, nothing moved. The light in Pierce’s window had gone out half an hour ago. He appeared to have retired to his bed.

“Did it strike you that there was something different about Emeline and Priscilla this afternoon?” Anthony stretched his arms high overhead to relieve the stiffness.

“Different?” Dominic pondered the question for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Just seemed that they were both in particularly fine looks today.”

“They are always in fine looks.”

“Very true.”

There was another lengthy silence.

“I think Priscilla is attracted to you,” Anthony offered after a while.

“She is attracted to the contents of my laboratory, not to me.” Dominic sounded glum.

“Don’t be so certain of that. The two of you do have a great deal in common.”

“Huh.”

“You find her pretty. It was never Emeline who interested you, admit it. The only reason you flirted with her was to get at me.”

Dominic shrugged. The movement of his shoulders was barely visible in the shadows. “You’re in love with Miss Emeline, are you not?”

“Yes. Her aunt wants us to wait to announce our engagement, but Emeline and I have other plans. First I have to convince Tobias to marry Mrs. Lake and move into Number Seven Claremont Lane.”

“So that you and Miss Emeline can take over his house?” Dominic sounded intrigued. “A very clever notion. Do you think he will agree?”

“I’m having some difficulty convincing him of the wisdom of my plan, but I have every hope of success.” Something flickered at the mouth of the alley across the street. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone standing in the entrance to the alley that leads to the rear of Pierce’s lodgings.”

The figure moved, slipping cautiously out of the deep pool of darkness into the moonlight.

Dominic straightened swiftly. “Yes, I see him. Make that her. It’s a woman in a cloak.”

“I’ll wager it’s Pierce in his female attire,” Anthony whispered.

“You’re right.” Dominic kept his voice equally low and soft. “Don’t move. We must not let him see us.”

The cloaked figure drifted swiftly down the street. Pierce did not carry a lantern, apparently content to rely on the bright moon. There was an eerie lack of sound about his movements.

“Like a ghost in the night,” Dominic whispered.

The old bawd took another long swallow of gin and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She squinted at Tobias across the planked table and cackled wetly.

“They called me Mother Maud in those days,” she said. “Made a nice living selling the babes and young ones, I did. Ye’d be surprised how much of a market there is for a healthy little boy or girl. All types of folk, high and low, came to buy my wares.”

The woman gave him a cold chill in his vitals, but Tobias did not allow his revulsion to show in his expression. The tavern, tucked away in the bowels of one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, was a dark, smoky hell. It made the Gryphon look like an exclusive gentleman’s club.

Mother Maud stopped talking and waited expectantly.

He put a few more coins on the table. Next to them he placed the memento-mori ring that he had found in Fullerton’s bedchamber at Beaumont Castle. The little gold coffin glinted evilly in the candlelight.

“Smiling Jack told me there’s a rumor that several years ago you sold two small boys to a man who wore a ring similar to this.” He opened the coffin.

Mother Maud stared at the tiny death's-head for a long time. Then she switched her attention to the little pile of coins. Her uneasiness was plain to read in her face.

He added another coin to the heap.

“Aye.” Mother Maud drank some more gin, as though to steady her nerve. “I did some business with a man who wore a death's-head ring.”

“Tell me about the business.”

“He was different from my usual clients,” Maud said at last.

“In what way?”

“Most of ‘em what purchased the children set ‘em to work. They trained the boys to pick pockets or steal or beg or climb the chimneys. The girls went into the brothels or were put out on the streets to earn their keep.” She raised one bony shoulder and let it drop. “There were some who purchased the little ones for reasons that I did not want to know.”

If some of the children had been used in ways that gave even Mother Maud a few qualms, Tobias thought, he’d rather not know about them either. But he had to get the truth tonight.

“The man who wore the ring,” he said. “Why do you think that he wanted to obtain two young boys?”

Maud took another swig of gin and set down the bottle. Her rheumy eyes glinted malevolently. “He said he was a man of business but he had no sons to take over the firm. He told me that he wanted to take on some apprentices. Teach ‘em his trade.” She squinted. “But if all that was true, he could have got what he wanted from a proper orphanage, eh?”

“Instead, he came to you.”

“Aye, that he did. He paid Mother Maud handsomely, he did. And I gave him value for his money, I did. Two healthy lads in prime condition. Both smart as whips. Brothers, they were. One was about eight years of age. The other was four or five, I think.”

“What happened to their parents?”

“The mother died in a brothel. Both boys were on the street when I found ‘em. The older one was looking after the younger. Picking pockets. Stealing what they could from the drunken gentlemen who take their pleasures in our part of the city.”

“What of the father?”

“Who knows?”

Tobias glanced at the ring. “What do you think became of the two boys you sold to this man?”

“Well, now, I never asked and that’s a fact.” Maud snorted. “That’s why my clients came to me in the first place, y'see. On account of they knew I wouldn’t ask any awkward questions.”

“Did you ever hear any gossip concerning the nature of the trade this man planned to teach the two boys?”

“Aye.” Maud brooded on the ring. “There was talk now and again over the years about the man who wore a gold death's-head. Some said that if ye paid him enough, he’d get rid of anyone ye wanted, even a rich man or a fine lady. But only if he agreed that they deserved it.”

“Do they say what became of this man who was in the business of dealing death?”

Maud raised her gin bottle. “Heard he’d retired. Left the business to his apprentices.”

Anthony stood with Dominic in the night-shrouded park across the street from Number 20 Treadhall Square. The town house they were watching was an elegantly designed three-story affair, one of several in a row. Each had a front area enclosed with a waist-high iron fence and a gate.

They had followed Pierce, according to Tobias’s instructions, and made no move to stop him, keeping a considerable distance behind him. The activity of the busy streets had covered their footsteps.

But a few seconds ago they had arrived in the square just in time to see their quarry vault lightly over the railing that guarded the front area of one of the town houses. Pierce disappeared down the flight of steps that led to the kitchen entrance located below the street level.

“If you ask me, there’s only one reason why he went down there dressed in that cloak,” Dominic said. “And it wasn’t because he’s been summoned at one o’clock in the morning to dress a lady’s hair.”

“I know.” The reality of what was happening before their eyes sent a chill through Anthony.

“Hell’s teeth, what are we supposed to do now?” Dominic whispered.

“The only thing we can do is pound on the front door and try to raise the household.”

“They’ll likely think we’ve gone mad, ranting and raving about a murderer inside their home.”

“Have you got a better plan?”

“No.”

“We’d best make haste, in that case.” Anthony started forward. “I doubt that it will take Pierce long to complete his business. The man is a
professional,
if you will recall.”

Together they raced across the street and went up the steps of the silent town house. Anthony seized the heavy brass door knocker and banged it loudly six or seven times.

“That should rouse a maid or a footman,” Dominic muttered.

But to Anthony’s amazement, no one came to the door to demand an explanation for the late-night disturbance.

“Try again,” Dominic said. “Harder, for God’s sake.”

Anthony pounded the knocker a few more times. Still no response. He took a step back and looked up at the darkened windows of the upper floors. “Perhaps whoever lives here gave his servants the night off.”

“This is a large house. I cannot believe that every single member of the staff would be given the same night off. There must be someone inside.”

“We’ve got to do something quickly,” Anthony said. “Maybe we should smash a window.”

“And get taken up on charges of housebreaking? I don’t think that is such a terrific plan. Wait, I’ve got an idea.”

Dominic let his small pack slide off his shoulder and lowered it to the ground. Untying the cord that secured the opening, he reached inside and drew out what appeared to be two sticks.

“What have you got there?” Anthony asked.

“A couple of tubes containing my new explosive formula.”

“Explosive formula?”
Anthony hastily stepped back a couple of paces. “Hold on, here. What the devil are you doing?”

“I admit the mixture is still in need of refinement, but in small amounts like this it creates a very handsome display of fireworks. I brought the tubes with me tonight because it occurred to me that they might come in handy if we needed a distraction or a weapon of some sort in the event the hairdresser noticed us and tried something violent.”

“That was very farsighted of you.” Anthony watched Dominic strike a light. “Damnation, man, have a care with those things.”

“I’m using both of them because we need a disturbance that will arouse the entire street as well as anyone inside this house.” Dominic lit two strings attached to the sticks. “This should do the trick.”

He hurled the sputtering tubes far out onto the pavement. There was a short, tense moment during which the sticks sputtered and sparked.

Then, with a crack and a snap and an ear-shattering roar, the explosive-filled casings erupted.

Lightning danced in the street.

Bright strips of fire sparkled and flashed. The fireworks sounded like a dozen pistols fired at once, over and over again. The noise boomed off the walls of the town houses and echoed on the stones of the pavement.

“Very impressive,” Anthony shouted above the din.

“I’m trying to develop more variety in the colors of the display,” Dominic yelled back. “At the moment I’m limited to red, white, and greens.”

A window on the upper floor of a neighboring town house opened with a bang. A man in a nightcap leaned out.

“Fire,” he screamed. “There’s fire in the street. Summon the watch.”

Several more windows slammed open. Other heads appeared. The shout of
fire
went up across the square. A woman shrieked. Doors were flung wide. One of them was the door of Number 20.

“What’s this?” A woman with a head covered in sparse gray curls and a cap stood in the entrance, clutching a faded dressing gown around her thin body. She peered blearily at Dominic and Anthony.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded.

“There’s a murderer inside the house,” Anthony shouted.

“What’s that you say?” She cupped her hand to her ear. “Speak up, young man.”

“A
murderer
.” Anthony pushed past her into the front hall. “He’s come to kill someone.”

“Stand aside,” Dominic ordered, following Anthony into the hall. “We must stop him.”

“Now, see here, what d'ye think yer doing?” Alarmed, the woman fell back. “
Help! Help!
There’s housebreakers here.”

Anthony decided to change tactics. “The
fire,
” he shouted directly into her ear. “We’ve got to get everyone out of the house.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Fire, you say?”

“Is there anyone else here?” Dominic yelled.

“The master. Upstairs in his bed.” The woman glanced uncertainly up at the ceiling. “He can’t walk. He’ll be trapped up there.”

“We’ll bring him down,” Anthony promised.

He ran for the stairs, Dominic hard on his heels. They took the steps two at a time and emerged onto a darkened landing.