Page 19 of An Artful Dodge
“All right.”
“Go home,” he said. “Sarah’s safe for tonight.”
As he dropped his hand from my arm, I nodded again. “I’m going.” I took a few steps, but as I heard his footsteps fade, I returned to the shadows to watch. Across the street, he swung open the door to the staircase that led up to the rooms where Caleb ran his spieler. There James paused. By the light in the stairwell, I saw him in profile, and his right arm down, he spread his hand, all five fingers wide. It had been our signal, during our badger days, that the dodge was on, that I needn’t worry.
But the very fact that James could walk into that game, without a second thought to wonder if they’d welcome him, meant he was still a Castle man.
Chapter 6
The next morning early, keeping a keen eye out for a tail, I took an omnibus to Grosvenor Street and walked a circuitous route past a noisy crowd peering up at what must be the Fairleigh house. Reaching the Willitses’, I hurried down to the servants’ area and knocked. The door was jerked open by a harried-looking maid.
“I’m Sarah’s sister. Can I see her?” I asked. “It’s important. And I can wait until she has a free minute.”
“There ain’t no free minutes,” snapped the maid. “We’ve the young missus’s engagement party tomorrow and we’re already behind.”
“Please.” I pressed a half crown into her hand. “I only need a minute.”
Her eyes wide, she snapped her fingers shut over the coin, disappearing it into a pocket. “I’ll send her when she’s finished with the pots.”
I sat on the cold stone steps for over an hour. Finally, the door opened and Sarah stepped out, wiping her hands on her apron. “Kit, what are you doing here?”
“You heard about the murders,” I said.
She nodded. “O’ course. The whole house is in an uproar.”
I took her arm, drawing her away from the door. “Do you know something about it? Is that what you wouldn’t tell me Saturday night?”
She tried to pull away, her eyes on my hand clutching her elbow.
I gave her arm a shake. “Sarah, for God’s sake!”
Her face screwed up like she was about to cry. “Kit, don’t yell at me! Why do you always get so angry? You’re just like Ma.”
The accusation stung, and I dropped her arm. “I’m not angry.”
“Well, you look it.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “You should see your face.”
I drew a breath. “I’m just worried. Because you’re not telling me the truth.”
“You didn’t tell me about Josie,” she said defensively.
“That’s different,” I said.
“How?”
“I don’t love her,” I replied. “Sarah, please. Did you see someone you knew? A Castle man?”
Her eyes widened. It was as good as a confession, and her face collapsed into relief and remorse. “Two of them, on the far side of the street.” She wrapped her arms over the soft part below her ribs, as if the memory made her queasy.
“How hard was it raining?”
“Not so hard I couldn’t see.” Her voice was a murmur. “Billy Winston and Tommy Finch, dressed like proper gentlemen. I saw them plain under a lamp.”
I stiffened. Tommy drifted in and out of trouble, but Billy was ruthless and ran straight toward it. “Do you think they meant to hit the house?”
She gave me an incredulous look. “What else could they be meaning, dressed like that here?”
With effort, I kept my voice soft. “Did they see you?”
