Forty-Four
She hurried through the empty streets, her senses skittering. Every doorway and every alley was filled with ominous darkness. She dared not take shortcuts through the parks. Her small pistol would be useless against a gang of footpads.
It seemed like an eternity before she managed to hail a hansom cab. She knew what the driver thought when she hiked up her skirts and stepped up into the small vehicle. Respectable ladies did not go about in hansoms. Only fast women allowed themselves to be seen in the swift little cabs. And only a prostitute would have a reason to be out alone at this time of night.
“Lantern Street,” she said crisply. “Hurry, please.”
“Got a customer waiting, have ye?” the driver asked genially.
But he obligingly snapped the whip. The horse lurched into a hard trot.
Twenty minutes later they arrived at the door of Flint & Marsh. Beatrice navigated the narrow cab steps down to the pavement and paid the driver. The hansom rolled off into the darkness.
She went up the front steps of the agency. Not surprisingly, the lights were off. She banged the knocker several times but there was no answer.
Instinct made her take out the stocking gun. Cautiously, she tried the door and was shocked when it turned easily in her hand. Mrs. Beale never forgot to lock up for the night.
She knew she had made a terrible mistake but by then it was too late. The subtle scent of incense wafted out into the night air.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Beatrice,” Victor said from the shadows of the front hall. “It took you long enough to get here. Always hard to find a cab at this hour, isn’t it?”
She started to step back, intending to whirl and run.
“If you don’t come inside, I will kill all of them,” Victor said. “I have nothing left to lose, you see. At this point I can guarantee you that they are all still alive.”
He turned up the lamp. She saw Abigail and Sara sprawled on the floor behind him. Both were in their nightclothes. Both were unconscious.
“The housekeeper is in the other room,” Victor said. “I have no wish to kill all three women but their lives are in your hands. I will do whatever it takes to obtain your cooperation tonight.”
“Dear heaven,” Beatrice said. “You truly do think that Clement Lancing can bring your daughter back to life, don’t you?”
“She is all I have,” Victor said. “I will do anything to save her.”
“Including sending the man you say was like a son to you to his death at the hands of an assassin?”
“Take heart. Joshua may survive the encounter. At one time he possessed considerable skill in such matters. It’s true, he has lost much of his speed and agility, but he is still formidable. If I were a betting man, I might place a wager on him. But in the end it does not matter which of them survives.”
“Because what matters is making sure Joshua is occupied while you kidnap me.”
“Indeed.”
“He will survive,” Beatrice said. “And he will come looking for me. He always finds what he sets out to find.”
“Eventually he will find you. But it will take some time for him to track you down—a couple of days, at least. By then I will no longer need you. Our business together will be concluded by dawn this morning. Now put that ridiculous little gun on the console and turn around.”
“Why should I turn around?”
“Do it.”
She put the stocking gun on the table and turned slowly. Victor moved with terrifying speed. He came up behind her, secured her with an arm around her throat and clamped a cloth over her nose and mouth.
She smelled chloroform and tried not to breathe but in the end she had no choice.
Darkness swallowed her whole.