that the Wicks moved out early this morning.”
“That’s rot! He’d have told me!”
Mary shrugged. “See for yourself. And after that, go back to your lodgings and see if your rent’s been paid in advance, and how much.”
Jenkins stared at her. “Why? What’s it to you?”
She sighed. “If it’s paid up, it means Reid knew he was going and he probably packed up the Wick family. If it’s not paid up, it’s likely Keenan got rid of them all, quick.”
He stared at her, slow wonder blossoming in his face. “I – that – you – why, you ain’t so stupid as you pretend!”
She half-smiled. “And when you’ve done that, come down to the building site. Hitch a ride on a cab, or something.”
His eyes went even rounder. “Palace Yard?”
Mary nodded. “I’ve a feeling the real answer is there.”
Twenty-eight
Around Westminster the streets were dusky and deserted. There was little here on a Sunday to attract pleasure-seekers, and few residents to come and go. And in the unusual, magnified stillness of the place, the broad-shouldered man skulking in the shadows was highly noticeable. Mary stopped and tucked herself against a convenient pillar box the better to observe his progress. Yet she already knew where he was going.
The man was familiar – doubly so. That square head on those burly shoulders belonged to Keenan, she was certain. And not only that, but she now had an identity for the man who’d broken into the building site on Monday last. The man who’d rifled Harkness’s office, chased her out into the street, and nearly caught her. He and Keenan were one and the same. And with that realization, she also understood why the theft hadn’t been reported. If Harkness was working in cahoots with Keenan, it was part of their arrangement. If Harkness was trying to solve the problem of the site thefts, it was probably some sort of trap he’d laid. Either way, there was no use in involving the police. Not yet.
Mary watched, waiting for Keenan to plant his climbing-grip in the wooden fence. Tonight, however, he hesitated. Glanced about. Walked the length of the wooden fence with an air of suspicion. As he neared her hiding-spot not far from the corner, Mary readied herself to run. Her only chance of eluding Keenan was to gain a head start; large though he was, he was also swift. But he wasn’t looking towards the street. His frown was concentrated on the fence – or rather, on something beyond. He turned back again, walked to the site entrance and examined the padlock. Then, with a quick glance over his shoulder, he simply lifted the latch and opened the gate.
Mary stared. He’d not used a key, which meant that the site was already unlocked. But that itself seemed impossible. Only Harkness – and perhaps the First Commissioner himself – would hold a key to the site. Unless…
The rumble of carriage wheels made her tense again. This time, however, the moment she recognized the driver, she relaxed. She couldn’t say she was precisely glad to see Barker, but she was relieved not to be seeing someone else. The same was not true for him: as she stepped out of the shadow of the pillar box, his frown deepened until his eyes all but disappeared. The carriage rolled to a reluctant halt and he jumped down, nodding to her curtly. Unfolding the steps, he opened the door and offered his hand upwards with the solicitous gesture of a nurse to a child. “Mind your step, sir.”
“You say that as though I’ve never climbed down from a carriage before.”
“I say it because you’ve clearly taken leave of your senses, sir.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
The speaker finally emerged, leaning wearily on Barker’s arm. His dark gaze scanned the street, coming to a startled, almost guilty halt as he saw Mary, not ten yards away. Mary’s eyes widened and she felt a stab of alarm – anguish, even – at the sight of him. Yet from the set of his lips, she knew the worst thing she could do was express concern. Coming towards the kerb, she said in passably casual tones, “We do seem to keep meeting up.”
He gave a brief huff of amusement and climbed down. “You followed Harkness?”
“Keenan.”
“Seen him go in?”
“Just now. But not Harkness. Are you certain he’s here?”
“I’d stake my appointment as safety inspector on it.” He grinned ruefully.
Mary understood that he was offering a truce. “Come on, then – the gate’s open, as