Tainted Bride (28 page)

The detective cleared his throat. “Could have got himself a new mistress.”

“No. He is in love with his wife,” Thomas said firmly.

Hardwig nodded. “Could be on a drunk and does not want to be found.”

“That would be quite out of character for his lordship. He is a man of moderation. He is also quite reliable. I knew something was amiss as soon as he missed our appointment.”

James scratched the shadow of a brown beard on his cheek. “This Pundington fellow, you say he attacked the wife and you foiled his plans. Could be he is involved, if he has a grudge against the family.”

“Daniel was investigating him. He was sure Pundington’s business was illegal, immoral or both. He told me he was going to meet with someone who had more information.”

“Did he say who?”

Thomas shook his head. “No. I wish I had asked.”

“No use kicking yourself. Were you also gathering information for Marlton?” James tapped the worn top of his desk. “It is your specialty, old man. What did you expect me to think?”

“It was my specialty. Now, I manage my lands, my businesses and generally do no information gathering. However, when my friend asked for a favor, I did make a few inquiries.” He hated to admit that James was right.

“And what did you learn?”

“Pundington is up to something. His shipping business is legal on paper, but I did not discover what it is he’s been shipping. All the loading and unloading logs I found said he is moving coal and spices, but I found no buyers for his deliveries.”

“You think the manifests are falsified.”

“I’m sure he is not moving coal or spices. I have been on one of his ships. Though it was empty, both coal and spices leave their mark on a vessel.”

James leaned forward with interest. “What is your instinct?”

“At first, I suspected he was smuggling absinthe, but the odor of the ship was pungent, though not of spices,” Thomas said.

“What was it?” The detective was more enthusiastic by the second.

Thomas suspected his old comrade had pushed more paper than criminals since leaving France. “Human, I think.”

James pounded his fists on the desk and shot to his feet. “You think he is trafficking in slaves?”

“I cannot prove it, James. I only suspect it.”

“What kind of a man is this Pundington?” His face turned bright red.

“The kind who attacks a young newly-married woman in her own home after her father, his oldest friend, has died,” Thomas said bitterly.

James paced fisting his hands. “But, slave trading. Why would he come to England? He cannot sell his cargo here?”

“No, not on this soil, but I would hazard to guess he makes a few deals here in London. I would not put it past him to pick up a few extra bits of cargo as well.”

“You think he’s taking his majesty’s subjects and selling them as slaves?” Hardwig’s face paled, eyes widened and he gripped the edge of his desk. He collapsed back into his chair. “This is big, Wheel.”

“If I’m right.”

“You are rarely wrong.” James took a deep breath and straightened in his chair. He put his elbows on the desk and leaned forward before speaking in a conspiratorial voice. “What do you need?”

“I need to find The Earl of Marlton. I have exhausted most of my own resources. If you can help me locate him without society finding out he is missing, then Marlton and I will help you catch Pundington and no one need know you had any help at all.” Thomas sat back and watched James process the information. He had no qualms about helping Hardwig’s career. He was an honest man who was always on the side of right even in the face of temptation. He’d saved Thomas’s life on two occasions and his soul on another.

“Give me a few hours, Wheel. I’ll see what I can find. I’ll have to do most of it myself if it’s to be kept on the hush. I have a few men who can be trusted in delicate matters. It will not be too hard to keep Marlton’s name out of it as long as we find him quickly.”

“I do not have to tell you that any delay might lead to disaster.”

James nodded.

They shook hands and agreed to meet at Thomas’s house that evening.

* * * *

Having no idea how long he’d been unconscious, Daniel waited with his face on a hard floor while waves of nausea roiled his stomach. He held his pounding head and sat up allowing the queasiness to fade by degree. Inventorying his limbs, he confirmed them all present and none broken or injured beyond repair. It was also evident, by the large lump on the back of his skull, he’d been knocked unconscious. He must have been hauled around as if he were a sack of flour since every inch of his body was battered and bruised.

When he was able to lift his head from between his knees without everything spinning, he took his first look at his surroundings. The small room was empty save for a rusted chamber pot. There was one window, but it was near the high ceiling and no light shone in, so he surmised it must be night. There was only one door. The room must have been a storage locker of some kind. The window let in the drone of people and carts, but it was far away and he doubted calling out would help him. He smelled the dank filth of the river and knew he must be near the port.

Struggling to his feet, Daniel walked the perimeter of his prison and shoved hard against the door without success. The memories before he lost consciousness remained hazy. A smoke-filled bar and two men was all he conjured. He sat back down on the cold floor and waited for the jumble of thoughts to sort out. Eventually, his meeting with a Frenchman in a red waistcoat came back to him. The meeting was about Pundington’s import business.

Daniel had posed as a potential client for white slaves to be delivered to the West Indies. Everything was going well. The Frenchman’s name was Jean LeBute. He had two associates who stood nearly a foot taller than Daniel, but the Frenchman was a slight man with large eyes and a hooked nose. They were just about to arrange a meeting with his associate when the hair on the back of Daniel’s neck stood on end followed by a sharp excruciating pain and then nothing until waking up on the hard floor.

A wave of dizziness forced him back to the floor. When he heard the door creak open, he kept his head down glancing up only enough to see the fine shoes of the man who entered the cell.

“I’m pleased to see that you are not dead, Marlton,” Alistair said.

Daniel looked up. “Why?”

His captor laughed. “You have an amazing ability to keep cool even when your own life hangs in the balance. I like that in a man I’m going into business with.”

“What happened to your face?” Daniel asked.

Pundington’s eyes had black circles under them and his nose had swelled and twisted to the left. “A small accident.”

“Why would I enter into any agreement with a man who had me abducted?” His voice was still unaffected.

A young, shabbily dressed girl walked around Pundington. Daniel thought he noticed her cringe a little when she passed him. Fear or disgust, he couldn’t tell. She carried a tray, which she placed on the floor a few feet away from Daniel.

Daniel noted the food on the tray. “Thank you.”

The girl looked up with wide, gray eyes but rushed from the cell.

“There are a number of reasons why you will go into business with me, Lord Marlton. Would you like to hear about them? You may even enjoy the benefits of such an association. I saw the way you admired Susan. I can arrange to have her placed here for your amusement if you cooperate.”

Daniel pushed himself up to a standing position and one of the large guards from the previous evening entered. “I’m not accustomed to doing business in this way, Pundington. If you wanted to enter into a contract with me why didn’t you just make an appointment to see me?”

Alistair laughed again and smoothed his mustache. The sudden guffaw caused him to touch his nose and cringe. “Don’t toy with me, Marlton. You have been investigating my business dealings. I have not been fooled for one moment. I knew each and every time you made a pathetic attempt to ferret out information. What was your plan, to ruin me? All that trouble because your wife is a whore.”

It was not easy, but Daniel didn’t wish to be killed on the spot and the giant still stood next to Pundington. He kept his anger in check and only allowed his eyes to narrow in response to the obvious attempt to bate him into losing his temper. “I’ll ask you again, why would I help you? I abhor everything you do and stand for. Do not suggest I’m interested in that child you have enslaved. I do not believe you knew about all of my research, or I would never have been able to gather quite so much.”

Alistair nodded at the guard. All seven feet of him bounded across the cell and grabbed Daniel.

He struggled, but it was no use. He was too weak from the attack of the evening before and his captor outweighed him by a hundred pounds. Pinning his arms behind him so tight, his shoulders were near to coming out of their sockets.

Pundington smirked and walked forward. “You will do as I say because I require a member of this damned English aristocracy to legitimize my business. Once the ton realizes that you have endorsed me, I shall be able to sell my harvest anywhere.”

“Harvest. Is that what you call stealing human beings off the street and selling them as slaves?”

“Exactly so.” He spoke about his criminal activities as if they were normal. “Do not act so self-righteous, Marlton. I never take society women, only peasants.”

Daniel’s stomach twisted and he was sure it was not from the knot on his head. Everything about Alistair Pundington repulsed him. “And you think that makes it right?”

He stood so close his sour breath turned Daniel’s stomach.

“Do not pretend to care about the masses of poor, my lord. I’ll lose respect for you.”

“You are planning for me to endorse your cause. Why would I do that?” Daniel wished to be anywhere in the world but near to this horrid excuse for a man. Even the brute tearing his shoulders apart was better than Pundington.

“You will sign papers to show our partnership because, if you do not, I’ll kill Miss Braighton.”

“You have my wife, Lady Marlton?” He said the last precisely. Daniel’s heart lodged in his throat. He had failed. Somehow, Pundington had gotten to his Sophia. He had to find her. He pulled forward, but the guard’s grip tightened and pain shot through Daniel’s shoulders.

Alistair smirked. “I had her first. She is mine. She never was yours, Marlton. You have stolen my property, but only for a time. Yet, I think her safety is important to you and you will do as I say.”

Daniel’s heart clenched painfully. The pain in his head subsided in favor of the wretched ache coursing through his chest. He’d failed her. It was his duty to keep her safe, but this monster had gotten hold of her again. “If you are crazy enough to believe she is yours then why would you kill her?”

“I can have any woman I wish. I just don’t like to have my property taken from me by some young upstart. You may have a title, boy, but you are nothing to me.”

“You are mad.”

Alistair nodded to the guard, who responded by slamming Daniel into the wall.

Agony ricocheted from his neck to his legs. Only his head was spared the abuse of the wall.

“I’ll be back with the papers for your signature in the morning. I suggest you sign them, my lord. I’ll not be able to keep you alive regardless, but I’ll spare Sophia if you do not give me any trouble.” Alistair turned and walked out the door.

The guard followed.

* * * *

“What have you found?” Thomas asked without preamble, as James Hardwig walked into his study.

The butler, who had announced the detective’s arrival, backed out of the room and closed the door.

James came up short when he saw there were two other men in the room. Thomas made the introductions.

“Sir Michael Rollins, of course, I have heard quite a lot about you and the sacrifices you have made for our country. It is an honor to meet you.” James fawned.

“Um…thank you.” Michael shook his head and avoided the amused look on Markus’s face. Michael’s military past had earned him a few moments of embarrassment. He believed everything he’d done for England was quite normal, but many worshipped him as if he’d performed miracles.

Eventually, James snapped out of his idol worship and turned back to Thomas. “Not a tremendous amount, Wheel, but I think it’s a start.”

“We do not have time to delay, Hardwig. I can feel the clock ticking. Tell me what you have.” Thomas sat behind his desk and motioned for the detective to take the seat in front. The other two men remained at the back of the room.

“I’m relatively certain he is being held near the port and is still alive.” Hardwig twisted his hands together.

“How do you know?”

James’s face reddened slightly. “I believe we would have a body by now if he was dead, my friend.”

Pushing back any emotion, Thomas agreed with the gruesome fact.

“I tracked his whereabouts to a meeting two days ago. He met with some unsavory characters at a pub a few paces off of the doc. Sailors love to talk so it was easy enough to find out that he met with a Frenchman, by the name of LeBute. He has quite a few associates whom my office would like to get their hands on. We suspect him of smuggling Absinthe into England. One of his recent associates is Alistair Pundington. No one could tell me what kind of business they are in together, but after our conversation I had a few of my men ask around and there have been quite a few missing persons of late. Most recently, a young girl of sixteen, who served at the same pub, went missing. Everyone was distraught about it, said she was a good girl. Never had any trouble with her, the owner said and she’d never missed a day’s work until a few weeks ago and then she just disappeared.”

Thomas shook his head. “That is really very little to go on, James.”

“Best I could do. Whatever Pundington is up to, he’s keeping it quiet. I don’t even know where on the docks to start looking for his lordship.” He ran his fingers through his thinning hair.

“We need to set a trap.” Michael spoke from the back of the room.

“What do you have in mind?” Thomas asked.

“We will need some help. Do you think Mrs. Braighton and Anthony would be willing to help?” Michael leaned against the bookcase and stared out the window. One could almost see the plot forming in his mind.