Dusk was fast leaching the light from the sky. Angled shadows stretched over the alleyway as one by one the urchins darted in to report on what they had seen. Wrexford pressed and prodded until he was satisfied that he had extracted every last detail from them.
“You’ve done very well,” he said, taking out his purse and shaking out five gold guineas into his palm. “For your efforts,” he added, extending his hand to the grubby figures gathered around him.
One of the urchins—Skinny, he guessed, by the painfully thin silhouette cast by the sinking sun—stared at the unspeakable riches for barely a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t need no reward. Hawk be a friend, and friends take care o’ each udder.”
The other four urchins nodded solemnly.
Honor appeared in the oddest of guises. “It’s not a reward,” he said softly. “It’s a token of our gratitude.”
“Grati-what?” whispered the girl who smelled of fish.
“He’s saying thank you, Alice,” explained Raven. “Take the blunt—he’s rich.”
“Oiy, well in that case . . .”
Five hands shot out and snagged the coins. Like fireflies flitting through the gloaming, they scampered away, trailing tiny flashes of gold in their wake.
“So, laddie . . .” Henning rose and removed the unlit pipe from his mouth. He had kept quiet, perhaps sensing his usual sarcasm would only rub raw on Charlotte’s already tender nerves. Instead of tossing out verbal barbs, he had busied himself with unwrapping the vials of chemicals sent by Tyler. They were now neatly arranged in the small box, which he held out for inspection.
“I assume you have a plan of how to fight fire with fire.”
“These may prove useful.” Wrexford pocketed several of the vials. “But I am counting on stealth and surprise rather than flash and bang to win the day.”
“Subtlety is not usually your strong point,” murmured Sheffield. “But of late, you are proving surprisingly capable of the unexpected.”
Charlotte said nothing, which had him worried. However well she hid her innermost feelings, she had never shied away from expressing her opinions or observation. He had grown used to her sharp-tongued intelligence, her badgering, her challenging his every move. This unnatural silence was unnerving.
“Let us hope our plan will be completely unexpected by Lowell. I think his cleverness will play into our hands. He has every reason to be confident that his hiding place is safe from discovery, and that hubris may prove to be his Achilles heel.”
Moving to one of the few remaining spots of faint light, Wrexford crouched down and sketched a rough map in the mud with a stick. “I intend to enter here, at the back window of the storage room used for the art materials.” Skinny had noted that because of the spiked iron fence around the coal chute door that particular window was unbarred. The gate lock would not be a problem.
“From there I can make a methodical check of the other upper rooms, though I doubt I shall find Hawk there. Lowell will likely be holding him somewhere in the cellars, close to the laboratory.”
“Lucifer toiling away to create misery and mayhem in his private hell,” muttered Henning.
“My aim is to free the lad, and get him safely out of the building. Then I will confront Lowell,” went on the earl. “Henning, you will take up position at the west end of Artillery Lane, while Sheff, you will stand here, at the east end.” Based on what the urchins had observed, he was confident that Lowell had no sentries posted around his lair. “If Lowell escapes from me and tries to flee, your job is to stop him.” He looked up. “I take it you didn’t come unarmed?”
Two grunts confirmed the surmise.
“And me?” Charlotte’s voice finally stirred the air.
Her place was a far more ticklish choice. He knew she—and Raven—would never accept a spot safely away from any danger. But too close and he worried they might ignore his orders and plunge in to help.
And that could prove a fatal mistake.
He glanced at the map for an instant before making his decision. “Here,” he said, pointing to the building directly across the street from Lowell’s secret laboratory. A narrow cart path ran along its right side, and Alice the Eel Girl had noticed a recessed stairwell leading down to the coal hatch. It was a good hiding place and had the added advantage of being far enough away that reason might have enough time to overcome impulse.
“I want you and the weasel here,” he said.
Charlotte studied the sketch. “And our job is?”
“To wait for me to bring Hawk to you,” answered the earl decisively.
Raven met the assertion with a stony-faced acceptance that belied his age. “S’all right. You don’t have te pretend. I know Hawk’s going to die. I just want you to kill the bastard who snatched him.”
“We’ll get him back,” repeated the earl.
“You can’t promise that.” Raven wiped his nose with his sleeve. The fabric came away rusty with dried blood. “Bad things happen all the time. M’lady’s husband died, your brother died. Now Hawk’s gonna die, too.” He sniffed. “It’s just how it be.”
