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“What of?”
“He caught influenza, but was elderly and infirm. He couldn’t fight the infection and it took him I am afraid,” she replied sadly.
Joe nodded and turned his attention to the room.
“Your father then changed the nature of his work to more bespoke clocks for the wealthy,” Joe sighed.
He wondered if it was those wealthy people Sayers was interested in.
“Has your father said much to you about Donaldson?” Joe knew she was going to say no even before she shook her head and tucked that little snippet away to search her father’s study for later.
“I think we need to get out of here,” he sighed when it became evident that he wasn’t going to find anything helpful. Joe was painfully aware that his colleagues were waiting outside and, with each minute that ticked past they were more likely to be attacked if Sayers and his men turn up.
One thing Joe had learned in his work for the Star Elite was to keep moving. It never bode well for anybody if one was caught standing in the same place for too long. With that in mind, he ushered her out of the flat. He was going to come back later to search it more thoroughly but needed Marguerite out of the way and, preferably, one or two of his colleagues at his back.
“We need to search the workshop,” Marguerite sighed.
She dreaded the thought of it, especially given that someone had slammed the gate closed, but she had to see with her own eyes that her father was not in there either.
“Does he usually lock the door when he is working in there?” Joe asked with a frown. He suspected they would do better leaving the shop out of the front door but wanted to take a look at the workshop as well.
“Yes, especially when he is here at night.” She looked at him. “This is London you know.”
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Joe’s lips twitched. He was on the verge of telling her just how dark and dangerous London could be but then froze. He grabbed hold of her elbow and forcibly stopped her from descending any more of the steps. The flat door behind then wasn’t quite shut. A thin sliver of light descended the stairs enough to allow them to watch the latch on the back door slowly and silently slide upwards. It wasn’t the quick and confident snap of someone who was going about their business. This was too slow to be anything other than furtive.
Someone was trying to get in.
Her gaze flew to Joe’s. She opened her mouth only for Joe to shake his head and place his finger to his lips. He crept quietly down the stairs and beckoned to her to stay close. He had little doubt that it was one of Sayers’ men.
There could be little doubt that they only had a few more minutes before whoever was trying to get in realised they would have to use force. Joe didn’t doubt that they would kick the door down if they needed to. He nudged Marguerite behind him, and into the back room of the shop. Once in there, he closed the door and slid the bolt across before he ushered her to the front room.
“Are there any spare keys?” he murmured.
Marguerite fumbled with the drawer beneath the counter. Her hands shook so much she could barely hold on to the handle, but she yanked the drawer open and began to rummage through the contents.
“They are on a thick bunch,” she whispered. “They aren’t here.”
They both began to search the shop before Joe entered the back room. Dull thuds on the back door warned him that the men seeking entrance were now becoming more forceful in their attempts to gain access. They had seconds to get out.
“Is it these?” he demanded. He held a heavy iron bunch of keys aloft.
“I think so.” Marguerite hoped so in any case because if they weren’t she had no idea what they were going to do.
Joe ran across the shop and began to rifle through the keys. He paused briefly to slide the bolt back and tried the door only to curse when he found it was locked.
“Shut that door, and use whatever you can to block it,” he murmured as he began to try key after key in the lock on the front door. Shaking his head, he tried several more keys until the tell-tale judder of the door signalled success.
“Quickly.” He waved her across the room toward him.
Marguerite ran across the room.
“Wait,” he sighed. “Look, slow down. Calm down. We are going out onto the street now. It won’t do any good for them to see we have any idea they are trying to get in around the back. We will lock up as though we have done nothing more than check on the property.”
Marguerite nodded. It went against every instinct that was screaming at her right now to turn tail and run for her life. In the end, she followed him nervously out of the shop and waited for him to lock the door. Her gaze scoured the street on either side of them continuously while she waited for what seemed like an age for him to finish locking the door and face her.
In the same moment that Joe turned to face her, a man appeared out of the alley. His vile gaze immediately landed on them. He stepped toward them at the same time that Joe grabbed a hold of her hand and yanked her after him as he took off in the opposite direction.
“Run!” He shouted when he saw the now familiar sight of Sayers black carriage turn into the end of the road.
