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“No? Then what am I doing?” Mr. Fowler asked cautiously.
“Ah, Mr. Fowler, I am not a green lad, now am I? You are a Bow Street Runner,” the duke picked up a small black book labeled ‘occurrence ledger’ and looked at it pointedly, before dropping it back down on the table that reposed between himself and the runner. “You are in Yorkshire looking for the fifty thousand pounds in gold that was stolen six weeks ago!”
Joe Fowler heaved a long sigh and scanned the duke’s uncompromising face. “Well now, ain’t ye a knowing one. Aye, not green at all, are ye?” He snorted, rubbed his chin and sighed again before saying, “It’s a queer fetch—no denying that, but what a flash covey sech as yerself wants in it is more than I can prig.”
“I have my reasons for wanting to lend you my assistance,” the duke replied quietly.
“Aye, I daresay ye do, seeing as ye be guardian to that Sherborne lad.”
The duke was surprised by this but gave the runner a rueful smile, “So, you know about his lordship’s trouble?”
“I ain’t here on that particular setout. Lor’ bless ye.” He shook his head. “Don’t mean to tangle wit more than I can handle and the way I hear tell, yer locals won’t believe he had anything to do with that poor girl’s murder.”
“Now tell me, what ever came of the guards and the drivers?”
“I can tell ye that we know that one of them guards had to be in on it. He spoke peculie-like to his misses before he left that night, and I take it as a sure sign he was part of it. Never found coach, nor guards and I’m guessing even the insider guard be good and dead by now.”
“Did it ever occur to you that the two incidents, Celia Brinley’s murder and the theft of this gold could be related?” the duke asked even as he studied the runner for a reaction.
Fowler frowned, “Ye have a reason for thinking so, I suppose?”
“I do, but it is more gut, than fact. I am still looking for the facts,” the duke replied.
“Rawlings—you know, it was his bank that was twigged.”
“I know, what about him?”
“Well, he says that there was some exchange of paper currency for the newly minted gold.”
“Ah, and before it could be delivered to the Manchester Branch, they were waylaid,” the duke said as much to himself as to the runner. “Yes, I read as much.”
“Aye, queer how coach, drivers, guards…all poof…vanished,” said the runner. “With no one about the wiser, that is.” He shook his head, “Then I got up here and got m’mind wrapped up about the lay of the land, and the river. Heard tell how there might be limestone canyons hidden from sight in these parts. Could be the coach was sunk in the deepest part of the river afterward…could be those poor coveys were buried with the coach.” He shrugged and then added thoughtfully, “Here is the thing, Yer Grace. It ain’t nothing I can sink m’teeth into, yet I gleamed something this afternoon.”
“Did you?” the duke encouraged him to share.
“Well, ye be a duke n’all, but I don’t have leave to be telling ye sech things,” Fowler answered.
“Your instincts, Fowler, trust your instincts. Together we may piece the puzzle. There isn’t a soul in the area that doesn’t know you are runner. They all know. You’ll never learn anything from the locals about his robbery, but I just might.”
Fowler eyed him measuringly, “Aye, I don’t doubt that. Well then, well mayhap the two of us can come up with something that makes sense and also clears your lad.”
“Good man. Now what do you know?”
“This afternoon, I met wit
h Rawlings again and this time he let it slip that he told Mrs. Brinley about the shipment—sparing no details when they had lunch some weeks ago. He only meant to entertain her, as he seems to have a…well, he seems to like the woman. He was afraid to mention this before, afraid to lose his position at the bank and he didn’t think it made a difference. But I’m thinking it does. There is no telling who she might have told…is there?”
“Right then, Joe Fowler, right then. It all fits. They are connected, don’t you see? Let’s just find out who Agatha Brinley repeated this choice piece of gossip too.”
“Eh?”
“Now,” said the duke, not bothering to explain right then. “Now, just exactly what was the route, the time of day, the names involved that were taking this shipment?”
* * *
Suddenly, Mandy saw a dark shape coming toward her and knew she had been spotted.
A darkly clad large figure of a man rode his horse directly toward her. Everything about him seemed intent on reaching her.
