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“Is Sayers still there?” Kerrigan demanded urgently, his voice full of the hope he felt.
“Let’s go and take a look,” Joe suggested with relish.
Together they made their way back to their previous hiding place and stood in the shadows watching the warehouse.
“God, that is so old it is a miracle it is standing upright,” Kerrigan snorted in disgust when he saw it.
Marguerite didn’t quite know what to say. She had never felt so overwhelmed in her life. She should be at home in bed by now, the most exciting thing to have happened to her all day having burnt dinner. Now, she was standing on the docks, in the darkest and seediest part of London she had ever seen in her life, with three men who worked for the War Office, spying on a gangster.
Life doesn’t get any stranger than this, she mused.
If it hadn’t been for the steadying hold Joe had on her hand she would have run for her life all the way home, and not stopped until she was locked inside her bedroom and she was buried deeply beneath the covers. As it was, she had no choice but to go along with these men because she had no doubt that they would get her out of this, and back to somewhere safer, hopefully with her father. She hoped so in any case because she suspected the night was going to get a lot worse before it got better.
“I am ready when you are,” Kerrigan murmured, eager to be on his way now that they were there. They had gone through the plan as much as they could given that they didn’t know the layout of the building.
Joe saw Kerrigan studying Marguerite. He knew his friend was asking what she was going to do while they were gone. Sure enough, Kerrigan shook his head.
“I think one of us needs to stay here with Marguerite to keep watch while two of us go in there,” he murmured.
Marguerite opened her mouth to argue but knew it was for the best because she wouldn’t be able to climb anywhere in her dress. These men would be faster, and safer, going by themselves and she knew it. While she wanted to tell them she would be alright by herself she just wasn’t that strong, and couldn’t bring herself to say anything.
“She has to be closer to the building, though,” Joe murmured. “I don’t want her stuck over here by herself if anything happens.”
A little piqued at the way the men were talking around her, Marguerite glared at them.
“Well, seeing as Sayers is at the front of the building, I think we all need to go around the back and find another way in that is away from the road, don’t you?” she snapped pointedly.
Joe looked at her and grinned. His grin widened when Kerrigan looked suitably chastised, and Jacob shifted uncomfortably. He looked like a naughty boy who had just been told off.
“Let’s go,” Joe murmured before Marguerite could order them about some more.
Joe knew the next hour would be difficult but then nothing worthwhile ever was. If he could just block out the thought that Marguerite was going to be outside, without his protection for a few minutes, then he knew he would be able to concentrate on his job the way he was supposed to. As it was, he knew he was going to worry and fret until he was able to return to her side. It wasn’t even worth considering that he be the one to remain with her while Kerrigan and Jacob went in, though. He was the one who could pick a lock blindfolded, and Kerrigan and Jacob knew it. If there was any kind of lockable obstruction preventing them from either gaining entrance or doing anything once inside, Joe could pick it, Kerrigan and Jacob would have to smash their way through. Besides, Joe felt responsible for Marcus and Ben having been captured in the first place. His honour demanded he do everything within his power to rescue them.
“Let’s go.” He turned to Marguerite. “You must stay here and wait for me.”
Marguerite nodded. She was too terrified to argue.
“Please be safe,” she whispered.
Joe kissed her hard on the lips before he motioned to Jacob. Together the men scurried toward the building.
“Do you think they will be alright?” she whispered.
“I know they will be,” Jacob murmured.
Joe didn’t wait to see if Jacob was going to follow him. He kept one eye on the building as he skirted the perimeter and found a small window which overlooked the river. The glass had been h
alf broken. It was clear from the blackness within that the room within was uninhabited, but there was a shaft of light beneath the door on the opposite side of the room.
Hoisting himself onto the rotting wooden ledge, Joe removed the larger panes of glass and handed them to Kerrigan who placed them carefully on the ground. Once the window was open, Joe slithered through it and studied the room carefully while he waited for his colleague to join him. It was so deathly quiet that it was difficult to remember they were not alone and could be discovered at any moment.
They both made their way across the room. Joe slowly eased the door open and peered into the open space beyond. It was huge and contained very little except for several candles, packaging materials, including straw, paper, and boxes and, more importantly, three people. They were all tied to chairs. To his disgust, it was clear that all of them had been brutally beaten.
Joe’s gaze fell on his good friend, Marcus. His swollen face was almost unrecognisable from the rather all-too-handsome man he usually was. Instead, he was black and blue, with cut lips, a large cut above his right eye, and a swollen cheek beneath it. His left cheek also bore a large gash which had bled onto his usually pristine white shirt. It was shocking to see his colleague thus, but at least he was alive.
Ben was in no better shape. Having already been beaten out on the street, it appeared that Sayers had not taken pity on him and beaten him too. His face was so badly bruised that it was difficult to make out any distinguishing features.
The third man drew Joe’s interest. He knew immediately from the facial features still recognisable that this was Eustace, Marguerite’s father. It was immediately clear that whatever connection Eustace had with Sayers, it wasn’t a friendly one. Given his bruises, Eustace had yet to agree to whatever Sayers had asked him to do, including handing over Marguerite’s hand at their wedding.
