Ghost of the Thames Page 11

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  “This is a matter of life and death, Captain,” she said desperately. “Please let me go.”

  “What is matter of life and death? You are talking nonsense.”

  “No. Children. There are children in a warehouse there. I have to get to them before it’s too late.”

  “What children? How do you know this?”

  “I just know.” His hold on her arm was bruising. She couldn’t get away.

  “Did you know this an hour ago? Did you know this when we went there this afternoon?”

  “No, all of it came to me now.”

  “You might be imagining it.”

  “No. I’m not. I know they are there.” Tears sprang to her eyes again. “Please, Captain. I beg you. I need to get there before it’s too late.”

  He cursed under his breath and dragged her by the arm back toward the lodgings.

  She planted her feet. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to the Isle of Dogs, of course. That is where you want to go. Isn’t it?”

  Sophy nodded and climbed in to the carriage. The driver was looking at them as if they were both mad.

  “You heard her,” the captain told him as they climbed into the carriage.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as he sat across from her.

  “If I had any sense left in me, I would be taking you to an asylum right now.”

  “You can do that, of course, but later.”

  As the carriage lurched away from the curb, Sophy tried to not flinch under the Captain’s scrutinizing glare. He had every reason to think she was crazy. It was perfectly understandable that he should be angry, too.

  “Tell me,” he started. “This sudden realization. Did it happen the same way the last two times you set out in the middle of the night?”

  “Yes.”

  “And with the same urgency?”

  Their knees were touching. There was no warmth passing through that touch, though. She could feel his anger even through the contact of their clothing. Sophy moved her knees, inching as far away from him as she could.

  “Not exactly the same urgency as tonight. Those other times, I had no images of children in danger.”

  “But each time, you still give no thought to the time of night or to the threat you could be bringing on yourself?”

  She didn’t think he expected an answer, so she gave him none. She also didn’t think it would be wise to remind him that it was still early in the evening and the streets were fairly busy. No sense quibbling, she thought.

  “There are miles of waterfront warehouses between Limehouse and Blackwall. Do you know where exactly we are going?”

  “I can tell you the way once we get back to the quay where we were this afternoon.” Sophy prayed that the ghost would be there.

  He studied her in brooding silence for some time before he spoke again. “And who are these children that you are trying to save? Where did they come from?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Could you explain to me how your mind works?”

  “I am not a madwoman, Captain.”

  “You might not be mad, but you do behave in the most irrational ways sometimes,” he fumed. “I am still very interested in knowing how it is that a person can suddenly become completely obsessed with doing something, going somewhere, and doing so at that very moment. I am completely perplexed at what I witnessed tonight. This change in you happened in just seconds.”

  There was no explaining it to him.

  “These images that come to me,” she said, pausing. “I believe that they have something to do with my lost memory.”

  “A memory should indicate something that has happened in the past, not some trouble that lies directly ahead of you,” he corrected her. “And you have proven to have a knack for walking into danger.”

  Sophy couldn’t argue that with him.

  “So what threat lies in wait for us tonight, Sophy?”

  Instead of answering, she glanced at his cloak, where she knew he hid a pistol.

  “No.” He shook his head. “You cannot borrow it.”

  They rode in silence through the city, through Cheapside and White Chapel to the Commercial Road that led to the Isle of Dogs and the West Indies Docks. When they reached the docks, the carriage stopped as Sophy heard the driver speak to men who patrolled the area at night.

  “Come here beside me for a moment,” the captain ordered when they were moving again.

  Sophy stared at him and then acquiesced. When she was next to him, he lifted the bench seat where she had been sitting, revealing a concealed compartment. Peering around him, Sophy could see a half-dozen pistols and several short swords and knives stowed in the space. He quickly strapped on a cutlass, loaded two more pistols, and tucked them into his belt.

  “And a weapon for me?”

  The captain stared at her, and even though his face was in shadow, she knew he was smiling.

  “No,” he said..

  “I am quite capable of helping.”

  “Would it do any good at all,” he said, “to ask you stay in the carriage and let me go and look into whatever warehouse it is that you want checked?”

  “No. I can’t give you directions. I need to come with you.”

  “Sophy.”

  “I have told you everything I know, so far. You need to trust me, Captain.”

  “I could say the same thing.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, and then moved to the edge of the seat when the carriage came to stop. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and knotted the tie at her neck.

  “Wait here a minute so I can speak to the driver,” he said.

  As soon as he stepped out, Sophy looked over at the compartment. She could easily take a pistol. She decided against it. He was helping her, trusting her, and she did not want to betray that trust.

  Sophy heard the Captain telling his driver to go and fetch the men he’d run into at the docks earlier in the day. He knew which ship they were on and told the driver to check a nearby tavern.

  The moment he opened the carriage door, Sophy stepped out.

  “We will wait until my man returns with help,” he warned her.

  She looked about her. A quite different view of the docks presented itself, so unlike the place she’d seen earlier in the day. The number of men milling about was a fraction of the crowd filling the docks earlier. Those who were here were drinking, and hanging about the open doors of taverns and chop houses scattered among warehouses and chandleries and shipping offices. Halfway down the dock, a bonfire was burning and there was a raucous crowd gathered around it. She could hear the sound of a fiddle and hornpipe, and there was drunken singing to accompany the musicians. As she watched, an argument broke out but quickly abated. Along the edge of the quay, several prostitutes were walking, displaying their wares and soliciting the attention of mildly interested sailors lounging aboard one of the ships. A trio of sailors staggered past the carriage, breaking off their singing only to leer at Sophy and make a number of incomprehensible remarks, regardless of presence of Captain Seymour.

  He stepped between her and the men, and ordered her into the carriage. “Until the driver gets back.”

  Before he could even open the carriage door, though, Sophy saw her.

  “Wait.”

  The specter glowed like a moon through a mist. She was walking away from them toward a line of warehouses.

  “We have to go . . . now.” Sophy didn’t hesitate, but hurried off in the direction that her guide had gone.

  The captain called after her, but she couldn't stop. Weaving her way across the pier, past barrels and piles of broken crates and bales of merchandise stacked high, she tried to keep sight of the young woman, afraid of losing her.

  The apparition stopped in front of a large brick and timber warehouse that sat amid a jumble of similar buildings. Like the others, this one loomed several stories above the deserted street. It was comp
letely dark, and the three double doors facing them at street level were shut. A moment later, Sophy’s guide went around the corner of the building and disappeared down a narrow alley.

  “You don’t know how to take orders,” Captain Seymour growled over her shoulder. “If you were serving on my ship, I would be forced to drown you.”

  “We need to go down that alley. I believe there is another entrance.”

  “Why are you trying to get into this building?” he asked, frowning at the dark structure and following her.

  As they moved between the buildings, the sound of activity from the docks disappeared entirely and silence prevailed. Captain Seymour pushed Sophy behind him and led the way. At the very end of the alley, the ghost took a right turn. Sophy whispered directions to him.

  As they started to round the corner, the captain suddenly paused. Blocked by his wide shoulders, she tried to move past him, but he stopped her and pressed his fingers against her lips. She nodded and he took his hand away. As she started to peer around him, Sophy heard the voices.

  A small trash-strewn enclosure was formed by the backs of several buildings. A low arch led to a dark alley at the far end. Behind the warehouse, three men were standing by a half-dozen wooden stairs that led to an open door. One was holding a dim lantern that cast a feeble circle of light around them. She could not make out their faces, but one of them was dressed in a cloak and top hat. The others appeared to be working men from the docks or the warehouse. Top Hat was giving directions.

  “. . . Shill’s orders. Do ye hear me? We’re not running a charity here,” he said. “If the little bastards don’t want to work, then ye teach them a lesson. Simple as that. Set an example of a couple for the good of the rest.”

  “Half a dozen of them are sick. Running fevers, the missus says,” the one holding the lantern said. He was a burly man with a high-pitched voice that did not match his body.

  “Good. Thrash those in front of the rest. Haul ’em up and whip them bloody. If they die, then so be it. But don’t take the bodies down. Let the carcasses be a reminder what refusing orders will mean for the rest of ’em.”

  Top Hat raised a walking stick and tapped it on the chest of the fat man.

  “And listen to this good. I bloody well don’t ever want to be called up here because a few brownie whelps are causing trouble. Ye take care of it, or ye’ll be taking the whipping. Do ye hear me?”

  Sophy felt her anger boiling to the surface. The children were in there. She tried to step around the captain but his strong arm restrained her. He pushed her back against the wall and glowered down at her, motioning to wait.

  As they looked back into the yard, Top Hat was just disappearing into the darkness beneath the archway. When he was gone, the burly one turned to the other and shoved him up the stairs. In a moment, Sophy and the Captain were alone.

  He looked back in the direction they’d come. “It’s too dangerous to send you back to the carriage on your own. You will need to wait here. I can take care of them. If you see anyone come out before I return, then I want you to run back and find my driver.”

  “But you have no idea how many might be inside. I can help you.”

  “I’ll be better alone. Worrying about you will put me at a disadvantage,” he said, taking off his cloak. “Try not to be noticed.”

  “I have no means of protecting myself.”

  He took a pistol from his belt and held it out to her. “I have no time to show you how to use this but—”

  “I know how to use it, Captain.” She took it and felt the familiar weight in her hand.

  Then, without warning, he took her chin and forced her face up until their gazes met.

  “I need to rely on you to follow my directions and stay right here.”

  She nodded, saying softly, “Be careful.”

  As soon as he disappeared into the warehouse, she began to fret about everything they didn’t know. What if there were a dozen men inside? She had brought Captain Seymour here and was letting him walk into a very dangerous situation. She looked around her. Naturally, there was no longer any sign of her ghostly guide. The young woman liked to lead her into the middle of danger and then simply disappear.

  Sophy froze at the sound of voices.

  “. . .better ’ave taken care of the lazy little buggers. With nothing gettin’ done last night, I’ll need twenty of ’em now. Them rats is tearing up the stock . . . and I ain’t payin’ for the damage, dammit. I ain’t!”

  Sophy pressed her body against the wall. Two men were coming down the alleyway from the docks. She couldn’t stay there. She decided to take the chance.

  Moving quickly around the corner toward the open door, she climbed the steps and slipped inside the building and moved into the shadows. Voices came from above. Along the back wall, a narrow set of stairs led upward. She could hear a high-pitched voice shouting threats, and a child was screeching in pain while others were crying out to stop.

  The sharp crack of a whip cut through the voices, causing even more screams to ring out. Sophy scrambled up the steps.

  The upper floor of the warehouse was dark except for the dim light of a lantern spilling out of an open door at the far end of the building. As she looked through the door, she could see the broad shoulders of the captain, his back to her. Beyond him, the fat man stood with his whip raised, ready to inflict another wound to the body of a child that had been stripped and hung up by his wrists from a cross beam under the buildings eaves. Another guard stood by the lantern, and in its light she could see the shining eyes of dozens of dark-skinned boys sitting shackled together on the floor along one wall. Even from this distance, the stench coming from the room was overpowering.

  “Belay that!” The captain’s clear voice cut through the cries of young boys, and the fat man and his henchman whirled around.

  “And who the bloody ’ell. . . .” The fat man’s words were almost involuntary. His eyes focused on the pistol and the cutlass in the Captain’s hands. Then, he turned to the guard. “Get him!”

  Before anyone could move, Sophy heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind her. The men from the alley were coming up.

  As the guard started across the room, the captain fired his pistol, and the thug spun to the ground. The man holding the whip swung it toward the captain, but Edward sidestepped him and struck him on the side of the head with the butt of his cutlass, dropping the man like a sack of grain.

  There was no sound of the men from the alley, but she knew they were still there on the steps. At the sound of the pistol shot, they’d stopped dead in their tracks. She knew they were trying to decide what was in their best interest. Then they decided, and she was ready.

  As they nearly reached the top of the stairs, she stepped in front of the first and aimed the pistol directly at his chest.

  “Stop right there!” she shouted.

  The man stopped short, causing the other to pile into him from behind.

  “Just a bloody woman,” he muttered with surprise.

  He climbed another step and she pulled the trigger.

  Though the pistol misfired, the flash of powder in his face was enough to send both him and his companion tumbling backwards down the stairs.

  “Sophy, look out!”

  She stepped back in time to see the fat man fly with surprising speed past her. Taking advantage of the commotion she had created, he had slipped past the captain and out the door. The burly villain hardly seemed to touch even one of the steps as he descended. At the bottom, there was a scramble as the three men exited the warehouse.

  She turned around. No assailants were left standing. In a moment Sophy was in the captain’s arms, and she believed she had never felt so secure. Coming to their senses, they both turned and looked into the sea of stunned young faces, waiting to be rescued.

  CHAPTER 17

  “I do not want you to be involved in the police inquiry,” Edward told Sophy. He looked at the line of pallets, filled with sleeping boys. The
lantern in the hallway landing cast a warm, golden glow on their freshly scrubbed faces. “And I’ve taken the necessary steps to keep any mention of you out of the newspapers.”

  After the skirmish, he had been able to enlist the services of his former crew members to help settle the boys in a parish house attached to All Saints Church, not a stone’s throw north of the Docks. A doctor was already on the premises, and had seen to most of them already.

  “Will they be able to stay here?”

  “I have spoken with the vicar and made arrangements to keep them. The boys are welcome for as long as it takes to figure out where they’re from and how they ended up at the warehouse. No one will put them on the street afterwards, either.”

  Earlier, Edward had sent his driver to the house with a message for Reeves, and the butler had made additional arrangements. There were already two servants of Edward’s here, helping to oversee things.

  The man he had felled at the warehouse was not dead, and that was a good thing, for there were many questions that needed to be answered as to whom the building belonged and why those children in shackles were there. The constable from Blackwall had taken the man into custody, and by tomorrow he hoped to have some of the answers. As of yet, though, he wasn’t ready to tell who the man in the top hat was or who this Shill was that seemed to wield so much power.

  “Can I come back and see them?”

  She looked dead tired. There were dark circles under her eyes. “You can come back after you’ve had some rest.”

  “All right,” she said, accepting his hand and preceding him out to the landing and down the stairs.

  Edward was relieved that she made no issue of leaving. And in the carriage a few minutes later, she sat next to him and did not seem to be in a hurry to take her hand out of his.

  “Incidentally,” he said softly. “I believe I owe you an apology. You were right about the children and about the imminent danger. “But I still don’t know how you knew. Did you know any of the boys?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not even one. But does it matter? One child is just as precious as another.”

  “I heard you speak to some of them in their native tongue.”