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“Well?”
“Archer and Parrish took care of Sullivan. He told them nothing, and so far, he’s made no move to go to Aldridge. Neither, for that matter, has Aldridge come to him. But someone else did.”
“Who?”
“Tyreham.”
The man sucked in his breath. “Kingsley went to Sullivan? Why?”
“He must be snooping around, either to find Aldridge or to find out why someone else wants him so bad. I don’t know the details—Tyreham didn’t exactly invite Archer and Parrish in for tea and conversation, but Archer said Tyreham got to the cottage right after he and Parrish left. Obviously, he saw the kind of condition Sullivan was in. I’m sure the old jockey told him what happened. The question is, what does Tyreham plan to do about it?” He paused, massaging his scarred forearm. “And what do we plan to do about Tyreham?”
“Indeed.”
“That’s not all. After he left Suffolk, Tyreham made another stop on his way home. At Preighbrook’s.”
“Dammit.” The oath emerged in an angry hiss. “He must have connected Aldridge’s disappearance to Redley’s death.”
“Well, he sure as hell wasn’t paying a social call. Preighbrook’s so old he can barely stand up.”
“True. But, being as feeble-minded as he is, he also couldn’t have told Kingsley anything of importance.”
The toe of Coop’s boot dug into the ground, slashing blades of grass. “What do you want me to do, have Archer and Parrish thrash Tyreham?”
“I think not. Not yet.” The man pursed his lips, idly fingering his silk neckcloth. “First let’s see what the marquis has in mind. That should be easy enough to learn.”
“How? You can’t just walk in and ask him.”
“I needn’t do anything so rash as that. I have a new resource at Tyreham, remember?”
An ugly smile curved Coop’s lips. “I’d almost forgotten. Yeah, that’s right. You do.”
“I’ll contact that resource. In the meantime, tell Archer and Parrish to keep watching Sullivan’s house. It’s early yet. Perhaps news of the beating has yet to reach Aldridge—wherever he is. If I need further help with Tyreham, I’ll summon you.” A meaningful look. “Do not summon me.”
His glance fell on Coop’s forearm and, with a shudder of revulsion, he turned, retracing his steps over the damp grounds.
“You asked to see me, my lord?”
Poole stood at attention in the doorway to Dustin’s study.
“Yes, Poole.” Dustin rose from behind his desk. “Come in. And close the door behind you.”
“As you wish, sir.”
Dustin waited until the task was done, broaching the subject without further preliminaries. “You’ve been with me a long time, Poole. I needn’t tell you how highly I value your abilities nor how greatly I rely upon your discretion.”
“No, you needn’t. But I thank you nonetheless.”
“I require a favor.”
“Anything, sir.”
“One that must remain strictly between us.”
“Of course.”
Slowly, Dustin walked around front of his desk, perching on its corner. “This pertains to the missive we sent my brother, the one that brought him charging to Tyreham like a rampaging steed, and to the hoodlums that necessitated my sending it.”
Poole’s expression remained unchanged. “I gathered as much, sir.”
