Forty-Six
Nelson was in his small study, a glass of brandy on the table beside him. He had long ago lost interest in the book he had been reading and had moved on to his favorite subject: the contemplation of his boring future. The small taste of the investigation business that he had gotten recently had whetted his appetite. It was as if he had found a calling. But he was not fool enough to believe that Josh would ask him to assist in that sort of thing in the future. His uncle had retired, after all.
He was considering a visit to the American West, where, according to the press, adventure awaited, when the clang of the door knocker shattered the late-night silence of the house.
He debated whether to answer the summons. The visitor would be one of his friends who would be thoroughly drunk by now and wanting companionship for a trip into the more dangerous neighborhoods. For the first time in months the prospect of an evening of heavy drinking and gaming hells did not seem to be the answer.
The knock sounded again, louder this time. He groaned and got to his feet. He went down the hall and opened the front door.
“You’re on your own tonight,” he said. “I’m not in the mood—” He broke off when he saw Joshua on the step.
The sight of his uncle rendered him speechless for a few seconds. There was a terrible light in Joshua’s eyes. Nelson wondered if he was burning with fever. But that did not explain the dark energy that seemed to emanate from him. It was as if Joshua had just returned from a trip to hell and expected to make a return visit quite soon.
“Uncle Josh.” Nelson swallowed hard. “Are you all right?”
“He’s got her,” Joshua said. “It’s my fault. I violated the first rule in an investigation. I trusted someone connected to it.”
“Hang on, are you talking about Miss Lockwood? Who has her?”
“Hazelton. He was working with Lancing all along. They’re going to attempt to revive Emma and they believe they need Beatrice to do it.”
“Bloody hell. They’ve both gone mad, then?”
“It’s the only explanation,” Joshua said. “I need your help.”
“Yes, of course, but how do you know that Victor is in league with Lancing?”
“Get your pistol and come with me. I’ll tell you everything on the way.”
It took only a moment to retrieve his pistol from the desk in his study. Nelson grabbed it and raced back down the hall. He climbed up into the small cab and sat down beside Joshua. He was aware of a fire in his own blood now. Excitement, resolve and a sense of purpose energized him as nothing else ever had. He wasn’t going out on another pointless round of drinking and gambling tonight. He was going to do something important. He was going to help rescue a lady.
Henry cracked his whip. The horse leaped forward.
“First, tell me how you learned that Hazelton is involved in this affair,” Nelson said.
“He sent the assassin after me tonight,” Joshua said. “He assumed that if I survived, I would credit my own plan and never suspect him. He had no way of knowing that Weaver did not live long enough to help me bait the trap. Hazelton was the only other person except Beatrice who knew that I would be at the Red Dog tonight. He is the only one who could have sent word to the Bone Man.”
“He brought in a foreigner to do his killing and kidnapping—someone he knew from his years as Mr. Smith—because he knew that if he used a man from the London underworld, one of your acquaintances in the criminal class who owes you a favor would either warn you or take care of the problem himself.”
“Right,” Joshua said. “Victor wanted me out of the way but he did not want to take the risk of trying to kill me. If he failed, there would be no hope of reviving Emma.”
“He’s the one who trained you,” Nelson said. “He still respects your ability, in spite of your injuries.”
“So it seems. But in the end, it didn’t matter if I lived or died tonight. All he cared about was distracting me long enough to allow him to snatch Beatrice.”
“But we are going to find her, aren’t we?” Nelson said.
“Yes. But first we will stop at my town house for some equipment that I put into storage a year ago.”
“Uncle Josh, I don’t mean to be pessimistic about our prospects of success, but you can’t possibly know where Victor took Miss Lockwood. How are we going to find her?”
“We look for her in the right place.”