Scotland Hard (Book 2 in the Tom & Laura Series) (7 page)

“Course I can, my dear. And it’s been a pleasure to do business with you.” The ticket collector wore a big smile as he sorted out their change.

As they approached the taxi rank outside the station,
Arnold
turned on
Cam
angrily. “You do realize he just robbed us, don’t you?”

“Yes I do, thank you very much Tompkins.. er…
Arnold
,”
Cam
replied evenly. “But I expect he has a deal going with that policeman and we would have been arrested if we failed to pay up. We do not have the time to be arrested.”

“
Linden Lane
,” Daisy shouted up to the taxi driver as the others got into his cab. “Do you know where it is?”

“It’ll cost you, Miss,” the driver told her as he pulled on the reins to keep his frisky horse from starting off. “That’s a bit out of my bailiwick and no mistake. Bin a murder there too, just this night past, or so the papers say.”

“The murdered man was my father,” Daisy said without a moment’s hesitation. “My companions are my cousins, come to pay their respects and to help me dispose of the estate and see to the funeral arrangements.”

“My sincere condolences, Miss,” the taxi driver said solemnly. He took off his cap as a mark of respect. “It’ll still cost you a sovereign though.”

“We are happy to pay,”
Cam
said, sticking her head outside the coach door. She turned to glare at
Arnold
just in case he was about to make a fuss at being robbed again.

“In advance, Miss, if you don’t mind.”

Cam
tossed a coin at the driver who bit it suspiciously before smiling at her through blackened teeth. He turned to Daisy.

“Best get aboard then, Miss. I haven’t got all day.”

8.
  
Developments

Tom lay on his bed for some time, staring at the embossed plaster ceiling and considering their options. He heard his door being unbolted and Jane entered, carrying a tray laden with bread, cheese and a bottle of wine.

“I have brought you your luncheon, sir. Dinner will be served at seven this evening and Lord Smee sends his apologies for keeping you locked in, but he trusts that I can keep you entertained. If it be your pleasure, sir.” Jane’s face flushed as she finished talking in a manner that sounded as if the words had been hastily rehearsed.

“Bring the tray over to my bed and then come and sit with me, Jane,” Tom suggested, tapping the bed beside him. Jane put down the tray at Tom’s side and started to disrobe.

“That won’t be necessary,” Tom said firmly. He placed a hand on her arm and discovered the girl was shivering. “I only want to talk to you.”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m the sort of girl who spreads her legs for any man,” Jane said quietly as she stared into her lap. “But Mister Smith does lay on a powerful beating if a servant should disobey an order.”

“I heard some screams earlier,” Tom said cautiously. “I was worried that your employer might have uncovered our deception and that you were being put to your trials.”

Jane’s face clouded over. “In some ways, I wish that it had been me, sir. Mister Smith was beating the children for leaving their rooms without permission. They don’t deserve such terrible treatment, sir, as they are little more than nippers.”

“These are Lord Smee’s children?”

Jane giggled, “God bless you no, sir. They are like you and the lady. Brought here to be… Well I dare not tell you, sir, for I would certainly receive a thrashing if I did.”

“I am assuming that Laura is safe and well. She is a special young woman and important to me.”

“Oh yes, sir,” Jane spoke as if shocked by the thought. “We were told we must not hurt a hair of her head, unless it be to prevent her escape. I think she must be a Spellbinder, because all parchment and pens were removed from the house as soon as you arrived.”

Tom considered what he should ask next. Jane was his best source of information, but he didn’t want to make her suspicious with obviously pointed questions.

“Tell me about the house, Jane. It appears to be both large and grand. And take a chunk of the cheese, why don’t you?”

Jane smiled. She took the smallest piece of cheese on the plate and put it in her lap. Tom offered her one of the pieces of bread, but she declined his offer politely.

“I’m not sure I should tell you anything about the house, sir.”

Tom gave her a hurt look and she relented. “Well, I’m sure with you safely locked in and guarded that it could do no harm.”

Tom bit into a large piece of cheese and smiled encouragingly.

“This is a big house, sir. There is the main part of the house and then there is a large wing, which we are in now. The family that owned the house before Lord Smee turned out to be Papists plotting treason. Can you believe such a thing in this day and age? This had been their family home for centuries.”

“We’re they caught?” Tom asked. He knew that many of the wealthiest families in
England
and
Scotland
were Catholics, but none showed any signs of disloyalty to the crown. This was the nineteenth century after all, not the eighteenth. Catholics were hardly discriminated against since the Emancipation Act of 1829 and that had been passed over thirty years ago.

“No sir, they are believed to be hiding in
France
. It was a big scandal around here. Lord Smee took the house before I joined the household two years ago.”

“Describe the house to me, I’m curious how it might be laid out,” Tom enquired as if he might be asking about the weather.

Jane described the banqueting hall and the kitchens, the wing they were in and how there was a barn, hencoops and pigpens in the land beyond.

“That’s where those poor children are, sir. One of the pigpens is enclosed and Lord Smee had bars put into its windows and door. He calls it his punishment cell and any servant who is beaten must spend the night there. It’s powerful cold in winter, sir, as I know from personal experience. The wind howls through the windows and Lord Smee don’t allow us blankets.”

“They could freeze to death tonight.”

“Oh they won’t stay there tonight, sir. They’ll be brought out for the auction…” Jane put her hand over her mouth in horror and looked as though she might faint.

Tom leant over and whispered in her ear. “I will tell no one you said that. Trust me when I tell you that I will do my best to make sure no harm befalls you because of me.”

Jane turned to Tom and put her arms around him, holding him tight as she tried to stop from crying.

“I do hope you and the lady are treated well, sir. I hopes it with all my heart.”

They talked quietly about inconsequential things while Tom finished his meal. He had learned everything he had hoped to and was anxious to allay any fears his questions might have raised.

He drank down the last of the red wine and escorted Jane to the door. She knocked for the guard to let her out. When the door opened, Tom swung the girl into his arms and kissed her passionately out where the guard could see. Jane bustled out of the room a minute later with a bright red face. The guard chuckled as he rebolted the door.

“I know you are watching me, Laura,” Tom said quietly as he turned towards the tapestry.

“I assume you tupped her,” Laura said, anxiety clear in her voice. “That kiss had far too much passion for any other cause.”

“No, we merely talked while I ate my luncheon.” Tom saw Laura visibly relax at his words. “Did they feed you?”

“I finished my meal a short while ago and knocked at my door so they would retrieve my tray. I came through the passage just moments before your passionate goodbye kiss.”

“It was so the guard would think exactly as you did,” Tom said wryly. “I can only hope he was as taken in by it as you.”

“We have to get to the children,” Laura said urgently. “I know what it feels like to be severely beaten and it bothers me greatly that they are suffering because of us.”

“I know where they are and how to get to them, courtesy of Jane.”

Laura grinned at this news and held the tapestry to one side so Tom could lead the way.

It took Cam, Daisy, and
Arnold
the best part of an hour to travel across
London
to the house where Charles Drake had died. The cabby took them through narrow lanes packed with people and passed markets where stall holders shouted out their wares. Daisy found it exciting as it was her first time in the capital city.

Cam and
Arnold
had been to
London
many times before though neither had lived there. All three were completely lost the moment the driver turned off the main road and drove into the warren of side streets and lanes.

“Here we are then, Miss,” the cabby shouted down as they turned into
Linden Lane
and he pulled his horse to a stop. There was no sign that there had been a recent murder as they looked down the narrow passageway that passed between the houses on both sides.

“Thank you, cabby,” Daisy said primly as she stepped down onto the cobbles. This did not look a prosperous place to her and she was beginning to realize that the life of a spy did not generate great rewards. She had imagined Drake would live somewhere far grander, given the impressive service record Trelawney had provided.

The driver encouraged his horse to trot down the lane.
Cam
looked around her in disgust.

“What a dump.”

“There are far worse places to live than this,”
Arnold
said and shrugged his shoulders. He tugged at a pair of tall wooden gates leading to the back of the house. They creaked as they opened, revealing a large muddy yard beyond. “This is where he must have brought his cab, though I’m surprised he could get a cab and horses in and out of here.”

The yard was criss-crossed with deep ruts caused by cab wheels. It was just big enough for a cab to turn around in, and judging by the wheel marks, Charles Drake had done it many times.

“He cared about his horse’s welfare,” Daisy pointed out. Beside the gate stood a cast iron water pump and below it was a trough filled with water. A bale of hay hung down from a large hook fastened to the side of the fence.

Daisy sighed. Her boots were getting covered in mud and she longed to be out of this place. The smell of horse dung hung rather too fragrantly in the air for her liking.

Cam
took the lead and strode over to the back door of the house. A number of bell pulls were arranged in a line with numbers stamped on a brass plate beside them.

“Not much point in ringing Drake’s bell is there?”
Cam
opined.

“Try the one below,”
Arnold
offered. “According to the information Trelawney gave us, Mr. Emmanuel Cohen found the body and that’s his flat number, right there.”

Cam
heaved on the bell pull. The brass mechanism moved stiffly and they were rewarded with the sound of a jangling bell that sounded as if it were coming from miles away. When there was no immediate response,
Cam
pulled on the bell again and again.

A sash window above them slid open with a fair amount of rattling and an old man in black clothing appeared. He was clearly annoyed with them.

“Oy vei, Can a decent honest working man not get some sleep? I was up all night with a dead man, is that not reason enough to be left in peace?”

“Emmanuel Cohen?”
Cam
asked and the man gave her a look of exasperation.

“Do I look like
Prince Albert
? Be off with you, I’m not buying anything today. I’ve got bupkis to my name.”

“I am the daughter of Charles Drake and I would like to speak to you, if I may?” Daisy piped up. The deception had worked well with the cabby earlier and she thought it was worth another try.

“Who you trying to kid? Charlie didn’t have no family, though he was a good man for a goy. Go away, before I come down and potch you good.”

“We are his family,” Daisy told the man. "Perhaps not by birth, but we are all he has when it comes to seeking revenge.”

The old man gave Daisy a sharp look and pulled back from the window, sliding the sash down violently.
Cam
looked at Daisy, eyes questioning.

“I suppose we are his family in a way,”
Cam
mused. “And getting Tom and Laura back will redeem his honor.”

The door swung open.

“Come in; come in, my young meshuggener friends. Call me Manny, only my momma called me Emmanuel and then, only when she was mad at me.”

Manny led them up a flight of stairs and into a dingy little room. There was a smell of cooked, salted fish that pervaded the room and made Daisy feel sick. An unmade double bed dominated the small space. To one side of the bed, a small black iron stove rested against the wall and next to a fireplace. On the other side a wardrobe took up all the remaining room.

“Sit down on the bed, why don’t you? Don’t you worry about making it dirty. I’m not a fussy man.”

Cam
was not in the least concerned about making the bed any dirtier, but she was seriously worried about catching fleas from it. She wasn’t certain, but she thought she could see little black dots bouncing across the filthy sheets.

Cam and Daisy chose to stand, though
Arnold
sat down without a second glance.

“We understand that you found the body of Mr. Drake?”
Cam
asked.

“Found the body? Found the body you ask! Charlie nearly sent me to the goy’s heaven, shooting his gun at me. I thought my heart was going to stop.”

“He shot at you?”
Arnold
asked in surprise.

“At me, at the wall, at the ceiling, who knows? All I know for sure is that I hear a gunshot that near took me then and there. I waited some time to make sure that whoever was shooting wasn’t going to come rushing down the stairs. Then I went up stairs and found poor Charlie skewed on his own sword.”