Page 38 of When You Rescued Me

“Aye. You?”

“I’m in charge o’ th’ getaway ’orses. It’ll be a trick t’ get ’em near enough t’ the big ’ouse without anyone noticin’, but I can get it done.”

He paused, and the old man at Samuel’s table took that very moment to mutter in his sleep. Samuel kept his eyes on his cup, willing the men behind him to continue talking. He heard a mug hit the table with a thud.

“Word is Grimsby’s not in charge fer this one.” It was the bald man again.

“Grimsby’s alwus in charge,” the other responded gruffly.

“I dunno. Takin’ stuff from inside a grand ’ouse full o’ people ain’t the same as stoppin’ a carriage an’ orderin’ everyone out.”

“Don’t mean ’e can’t do it,” the broad-shouldered one argued. “’E may ’ave lost some of ’is best men in that last robbery, but there’s plenty more who’d go fer the kind o’ money ’e’s talkin’ this time.”

“Like us.” The balding man’s laugh held cruelty.

Samuel had heard similar twisted expressions of pleasure too many times in the past not to recognize it now. His grip on the wooden mug tightened. Exactly what did Grimsby have planned? It sounded like a major theft. But a lady’s big pier? How would he steal a pier—and in a house full of people? It made no sense. And would the many people these men anticipated being there remain unaware of the crime? Or would innocents be hurt or, worse, killed, to satisfy Grimsby’s avarice?

“A toast.” The broad-shouldered man’s chuckle joined his companion’s laughter. “To Grimsby an’ ’is partner—whoever ’e may be! May their bold plans fill our pockets with gold.”

“I’ll drink t’ that,” the other one said. “It’s ’bout time fortune smiled on us.”

The thud of wooden mugs colliding set Samuel’s teeth on edge. If these men had any moral sense of right and wrong, it was buried so deeply they would be hard-pressed to find it.

“Jealous an’ ’is partner are leavin’.” At the balding man’s whispered warning, Samuel glanced across the room. Jealous and Clarke were making for the door.

“I reckon that’s our signal,” his companion said. “Grimsby’ll want t’ know what Norris told ’em.”

The chair behind Samuel scraped back. Samuel took a long drink of ale, purposely covering a good portion of his face with the mug and averting his eyes as the two men left the table and made for the fellow Jealous and Clarke had just left. He gave them enough time to claim the chairs his associates had vacated before looking over. The candle at their table cast flickering shadows across their faces, but Samuel took a moment to commit the image to memory. If he saw the men again, he wished to know them. And then, before either criminal sensed his attention on them, Samuel stood, tossed a coin onto the table, and followed Jealous and Clarke out of the oppressive establishment.

The two principal officers were waiting for Samuel at the alley’s entrance.

“Learn anything?” Jealous asked.

“You could say that,” Samuel said, his mind still sifting and analyzing the conversation he’d overheard. “Was your meeting productive?”

In the darkness, it was impossible to fully identify the look Jealous and Clarke exchanged, but the tension in Clarke’s stance needed no interpretation.

“Hang the lateness of the hour, Jealous,” Clarke said. “Sir John needs to be told.”

“Very well,” Jealous said. “But if he attempts to run us through for waking him, the responsibility is yours.”

“It’s a risk we have to take.” Clarke started down the street, his pace brisk, his direction toward Bow Street.

Jealous and Samuel fell into step alongside him.

“If you intend to rouse Sir John from his bed to report on this evening’s activities, I assume the information you gathered was as concerning as mine,” Samuel said.

Clarke shot him a troubled look. “I won’t bother asking what you learned, Ross. We’ll save our breath for reaching Bow Street in good time, and you can tell us when we report to Sir John. But if it adds anything to what Norris shared, I stand by my decision. Sir John is more likely to vent his fury if we wait until morning to inform him of this.”

“No matter how he responds,” Jealous muttered. “Tomorrow promises to be a long day.”

Within the hour, Jealous was proved right. When the clock on the mantel in Sir John’s parlor struck midnight, the three of them were seated across the desk from the magistrate, and as far as Samuel could tell, they would be there for the foreseeable future.

“Let me get this straight.” Sir John, wearing a nightcap on his head and a purple silk dressing gown, fixed his attention on Clarke. “Norris could give you no date or location, only that Grimsby is planning something that involves a theft of great worth?”

“That is correct, m’lord.”

“And he claims that although Grimsby is issuing assignments to his men, the man himself is answering to someone else.”