He needed to test the theory, now, with Leavenworth standing guard behind him.
“I don’t care to go to Italy,” Peter said. “Send another operative.”
“They aren’t as good,” Jackdaw grumbled. “And I already said that you were going. I don’t like to be wrong.”
That was the word on the street; that Jackdaw would go to any lengths rather than be proven wrong.
Peter shrugged. “Good thing you have a backup operative in place.” He pulled out his pocket watch, clicked it open and closed.
“He does shoddy work. Too slow.”
“Be that as it may, I have business in London and cannot leave just now.”
Possibly Jackdaw would give way under their show of force and wealth, grumble but give Peter a contract in London. Or he might reveal why he thought that he could force a man like Peter to do anything.
Jackdaw moved from foot to foot. “I’m yer boss. Ye’ll do as I say.”
This wasn’t getting them anywhere, so Peter laughed—calculated to irritate.
“I jest”—Jackdaw moved his hands and his eyes skittered back to Leavenworth—“jest need to get something from my pocket, that the high-water cove wants to see.”
Leavenworth withdrew his pistol from his coat pocket. “Permission granted.”
Jackdaw fumbled among his layers. “Does this direction mean sumpfin’ to ye, young man?”
He held out a page. Paper familiar. Blocky writing.
Peter had been right. He’d found his blackmailer, and Jackdaw had found a way to force his hand.
“I knew it,” Leavenworth muttered.
Jackdaw waved the page. “What shall I send to this lovely lady?”
“Flowers,” Peter quipped.
“How ’bout your finger?” Jackdaw wiggled his three fingers.
“I’d rather not.”
“DoesElinorknow where you are? DoesElinorknow what work you’re doing?”
Peter rolled his eyes, but his concern shot up like fireworks. He did not want anyone to write Elinor. Their father would see the mail first, and he would be angry. Peter was not scared of Jackdaw, but he was scared of what his father would do.
Although come to think of it, he was scared of what Jackdaw could do if he wasn’t there to protect Elinor. It wouldn’t take much to frighten her, and bully-boys like Jackdaw employed were not known for subtlety.
Jackdaw chuckled. “Big Mike might like to know about this address. Frank Hill. Jack Billings. Skinny Pete.”
“Oh good job. You’ve looked up all my previous work in London and every enemy I’ve made.” Peter did not keep the irritation out of his voice. “Got anyone else in your back pocket?”
“If you’d’ve come to the Rose and Cabbage, you’d know exactly who I keep in my back pocket.” Jackdaw grinned with all his teeth. “Notice you like music recitals. Does your lady play?”
All of Peter’s ladies played. He said nothing.
“Maybe I could sendherfinger toyouraddress, what ho?”
“You don’t talk about a lady like that in my presence.” Leavenworth braced his shooting arm.
“All right, all right!” Jackdaw held up his hands, letting the paper flutter to the ground. “You’re the cove with the barking irons. We was just about done talking here, eh, Alcott?”
