“What does he look like?”
“He’s a boy,” the merchant replied bluntly. He held out his hand to denote height. “Like a man, but smaller.”
A long pause followed. Mr. Kent’s power could do nothing to improve Mr. Greene’s power of description.
Mr. Kent stretched over the railing, eyeing the docks. “Can you point out the boy to us when he returns?” he asked.
“Yes.” Mr. Greene straightened and puffed his chest out, to make himself appear more intimidating. “But I won’t! I’ve already told you, I respect my customers’ privacy.”
Mr. Kent tried to hand him more money, but Mr. Greene slapped the coins away. “Who do you think you are, Mr. Kent?”
“I believe you just answered your own question,” Mr. Kent replied winningly.
The joke only angered the merchant further. “I refuse! You can’t just—” He squinted closely at Mr. Kent.
“Kent!” he exclaimed with an uproarious laugh. “I knew I recognized the name. You’re Sir Peter Kent’s boy, that damned rotten thief and vile human being!”
Mr. Kent put on an easy smile. “Besides the human being part, I wholeheartedly agree. I cannot stand my father.”
“No, that won’t work! You dandy detectives with your tricks!”
“I can honestly assure you, this is no trick,” Mr. Kent replied.
“Honesty! From a Kent? Ha! We’re done here, my boy. Get off my ship. And don’t expect to find that servant boy! He’ll be warned before you ever spot him.” Mr. Greene struck the ship’s steel railing with his cane as an exclamation point and stomped back toward the captain’s cabin.
Mr. Kent stiffened and clenched the railing. I had never before seen him frustrated, but I knew what he was feeling. Mr. Greene’s grudge against the Kent name left us in an even worse place than before. The boy would be warned off the minute he passed through the dock gates, and we’d never find him.
“What do we do now?” Robert muttered. No one had a response. Even Mr. Kent was uncharacteristically quiet as he watched Mr. Greene’s departure.
Then, snapping into motion, he slammed his own cane down onto the deck with a heavy thump and set out after the merchant, leaving us no choice but to follow.
“We’re not finished!” Mr. Kent yelled out, a newfound charge to his movements.
Mr. Greene twisted around and shot him a menacing look. “Must I have you lot escorted off this ship, Kent?”
“What is your deepest secret, Mr. Greene?”
Mr. Greene replied without hesitation. “I have stolen ￡40,000 from the company for my personal use.” After finishing, his face contorted into one of sheer horror.
“And where might I find evidence proving it?”
“A safe in my office,” answered Mr. Greene, clamping a hand to his mouth and endeavoring to escape.
Mr. Kent pulled the merchant’s arm away. “What is the combination?”
“Sixteen, thirty-six, four! Stop it! What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Mr. Greene yelled desperately.
“And just to be safe, what is your next most damaging secret?”
Sebastian took several uneasy steps toward them. “Perhaps . . . we’re finished,” he said.
“I have been unfaithful to my wife,” Mr. Greene said, furiously struggling out of Mr. Kent’s grip.
“How many times?” There was a cruel pleasure in Mr. Kent’s voice. It was going too far.
“Twenty-seven.”
In a rage, the merchant broke free and swung his fist straight at Mr. Kent, striking him on the left cheek and sending his hat flying off. Mr. Greene followed with another punch, but a hand stopped the attack inches away from Mr. Kent’s face.
Mr. Kent stumbled away while Mr. Greene, dumbfounded, stared at Sebastian’s grip on his fist and fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath until Sebastian released him. I kept my distance but remained on the threshold in case anything else went wrong.
“Yes, well. Ahem, thank you, Mr. Braddock,” Mr. Kent said, brushing off his suit. “But that was going quite according to the plan.”
“Then let’s hope we never see you forced to improvise,” Sebastian replied, slipping his glove back on.
“Wha—who—who are you people?” Mr. Greene managed to choke out.
Mr. Kent, now with a little gloat to his step, hopped back toward the merchant. “Sir, I am an honest man who simply wanted to make an honest deal. I’m sorry you have no faith in my honesty, but there’s no need to blame or attack me because of yours. So please, before you act rashly again, keep in mind that it is entirely within my means to destroy your life.”
He let that friendly threat sink in and then continued with a big smile. “Now, with that unpleasantness out of the way, perhaps we can finally return to the subject at hand—the boy!”
THE DEAL BROKERED was an exceedingly simple one.