Page 58 of The Return of the Rake

“Damn it,” King muttered as they stepped down from the carriage, for the docks were thronged with constables hauling their prisoners away and throwing them into open wagons with their arms and legs bound. It seemed as if the excitement was over, but just at that moment, Lawson appeared, escorted by two burly runners, who had to work hard to keep him moving, for he thrashed and struggled all the while.

King leaned back against the wall of a warehouse, folding his arms and smiling grimly. Lawson went wild upon seeing him.

“There he is! There’s the bastard! That’s Jasper King! He’s the one you want… it was him, it was all him.”

“Aye, and my great aunt Fanny was in it, an’ all,” replied one of them with a snort of derision. He had come over upon hearing Lawson’s claims and was looking between Lawson and King with amusement lurking in his eyes. “We all heard who was in charge and who the great man was, for you’ve been running your mouth for all to hear, but we’ll look into Mr King’s affairs too, don’t you fret.”

“Ha!” Lawson said triumphantly. “Ha! King of the Rookeries, you’ll be dancing with Jack Ketch beside me, you see if you don’t.”

King remained placid, waiting and looking as if he had not a care in the world, for he knew how the conversation would go.

“Morning, Jack,” King said, grinning at the fellow who strode towards him. For some time, he’d been cultivating a relationship with Jack Grantham and several of his colleagues. He’d made a point of getting friendly with them and involving them in his new legitimate business, by asking their opinion upon any permits he needed, and being extremely polite when he thanked them for their advice. He suspected they knew full well who he really was, but so long as his business was above board and he kept out of their way, they had their arrest, and they did not much care.

“King,” Jack Grantham replied with a nod. “I hope you’ll keep clear like we agreed. My superior wants a result here, coming down hard on crime is good for his reputation. But if you’re thinking of moving back in, I’ll come after you like I did with Lawson.”

King shook his head. “You’ve seen my papers, Jack. My warehouse pays its taxes, all nice and tidy. I’m a good boy now.”

Jack let out a crack of laughter and slapped King’s shoulder. “Aye. Just make certain it stays that way, or I’ll make you regret it. By the by, seeing as I’m in such a good mood, I’ll tell you I saw Silas Mourney hanging about here earlier. He disappeared once we moved in, but word is he was looking for you.”

King frowned, nodding at this unwelcome information. “Thanks, Jack. I appreciate it.”

Jack nodded and King looked past him as the man walked away, seeing Lawson being hauled into the cart with some of his confederates. When Lawson noticed Jack had left King alone, free to leave when he wished, his face contorted into one of undisguised loathing and fury. King returned a thin smile and raised his hand in an ironic farewell before turning his back and walking away.

Repton hurried beside him. “Where are the rest of the men?” he asked anxiously.

“I didn’t see any but those I knew would follow Lawson taken up, which means Jimmy took the rest to my warehouse on the other side of the docks in time,” King said, with evident satisfaction. “The manager there is a good fellow, he’ll choose those best suited to the work there, and the others I have plans for.”

“What plans?” Repton asked, looking quite befuddled by the speed with which everything had happened, for while King had been plotting and planning for some years, he’d never shared his plans with Repton.

“You’ll see, old man,” King said with a chuckle. “But I cannot tell you yet, not until I’ve agreed all the details with my new business partner.”

Repton looked at him in shock as they climbed back into the waiting hackney cab. “A partner? But you swore you’d never work with a partner. Nothing but trouble, you said.”

“True,” King replied, hiding a smile. “But in this case, I think there will be many excellent compensations.”

“I can hardly believe I am saying it, but how glad I am to return to this little out of the way town, and to see the sea again,” Repton said, gazing eagerly out of the window as the carriage made its way through Winsham Woods. Now and then the vista would open up, giving them a glimpse of the sea in the distance, cold and blue and sparkling in the sunshine on a crisp autumn morning.

“What’s that place, Tommy?” Repton asked, for King had invited Tommy to come with them, knowing the lad was eager to show off to the residents of the town, now he was so finely dressed and gainfully employed.

Tommy looked out as the carriage made its slow way up a rise, giving them a view over Winsham Woods, and of what looked like a ruined castle peeking through the trees.

“That’s Winsham Castle,” Tommy said. “It’s haunted.”

King laughed at that, having heard the same stories when he was a boy. “So they say.”

“Who does it belong to?” Repton asked. “Is it inhabited?”

King shook his head. “It belonged to a fine family once, named Midwinter. They were wealthy and well respected, and they had one son named Robert, whom they spoiled and doted upon. He went to the devil, gambling away the family’s fortune. I remember him myself one time, raising merry hell in the town. I was only a little lad, and I kept well clear of the trouble. I remember crawling under a table in the bar whilst men broke each other’s heads all around. He’d come home whenever he ran out of money and the poor fools kept paying until he’d ruined them entirely. The old man died that same year, of a broken heart people said, and when the son came home again for the funeral, his mother told him there was nothing left to sell, for the castle itself was entailed.”

“What happened?” Repton asked, gazing at the castle that looked romantic set against the woodland, which was turning colour and blazed in a hundred shades of yellow and orange, gold and bronze.

“Robert Midwinter fled abroad, having abducted and wed a young heiress, but it did him no good, for the father refused to pay her dowry. That’s the last anyone heard of him or his bride.”

“Did he have any children?”

King shrugged. “If he did none of them have ever returned to lay claim to the old place. Old Mrs Midwinter abandoned it and returned to live with her sister, and she died some years ago. Since then, the place has been empty. I used to play there as a lad, but in those days, there was a groundskeeper still, and he kept the place secure, as I know to my cost,” he added with a laugh, remembering having been soundly thrashed for trespassing on more than one occasion.

“A sad tale. I feel sorry for the poor young woman he abducted,” Repton said mournfully.