The Body at the Tower - By Y. S. Lee Page 0,85
“we’re losing time. I’m going up ahead, to see what’s happening.”
He shook his head. “We’re going together.”
“That will take another hour, if not two. We can’t wait that long. Keenan’s already at the belfry and I don’t want to meet him on his way down.”
He climbed to his feet, a trifle unsteady but already looking more energetic than when he arrived on site. “It won’t take that long. I feel much better.”
She examined his face suspiciously. “You don’t look quite as ghastly, that’s true.”
“Still rubbish at flattery.”
“Willow bark wouldn’t have that kind of effect. Especially not such an immediate one. All it does is ease pain and fever.”
He shrugged. “All right, so it wasn’t pure willow bark. But let’s not waste time bickering. Come on.”
She couldn’t argue. They resumed their climb on the narrower flights of stairs, winding their way higher into the hazy air, the sunset, the rapidly falling night, none of which they could see. James seemed to gain strength as they went. His hand on her shoulder became lighter, his breathing easier, his step quicker.
“What exactly was in that powder, James?”
“That’s ‘Mr Easton’ to you, Mark Quinn.”
“Oh, stop dodging the question.”
He sighed. “Mainly powdered willow bark, as I said. And something a friend of mine picked up in Germany, a mild stimulant derived from a tropical leaf. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“Doesn’t seem very mild to me. How much did you take?”
“What a nagging old granny you sound. Enough to get the job done.”
“And after that, I suppose I’ll have to scrape you from the cobblestones.”
“Oh, I have Barker for that.”
They climbed in silence until the final stretch, when James placed a hand on her arm. “We ought to have a plan.”
“We don’t even know what to expect. We’d need to know that before making a plan.”
“Well, here’s my theory: Harkness and Keenan are up there, conducting their business. I’d like to know whether Harkness is truly involved with the thefts, and to what extent. Let’s get close and listen for as long we can before having to act.”
“Of course. But what do you intend to do, at that point?”
“Hold him until the police arrive.”
“Hold Keenan? Good luck.”
“The two of us together – three, perhaps…”
Mary looked at him. His eyes were very bright, even by gaslight. Glittering with suppressed fever, perhaps – but more likely the effects of that stimulant. He was vibrating with impatience and excitement, a rather un-James-like condition. She suddenly wondered if he’d be the steady, intelligent ally she had assumed – and then set aside that doubt. There simply wasn’t time for it. Whatever happened, whatever he did, she would simply have to improvise and hope for the best.
As they crept up the final few steps, Mary was very glad she’d been up once before. The sun would now be low on the horizon and she was uncertain of how well lit the belfry might be. Without a rough idea of its dimensions and layout, she’d have no idea what she was seeing and almost no chance of remaining unseen. It hardly counted as an advantage, but it comforted her nevertheless.
“Mary?” James was so close behind her that his whisper tickled her ear.
“Yes?”
“My physician warned me sternly against excitement of any sort.”
She almost giggled. “Shut up, James.”
“Can you see anything?”
“No, and I can’t hear, either!”
But suddenly, she could. Male voices, clear and close by.
“You paying or not? I ain’t got all night.”
“Neither have I, Keenan.” Harkness sounded oddly calm. “Neither have I.”
The voices were so near that Mary instinctively shrank back into the warmth of James’s body. He placed a hand on her shoulder. If it was meant to comfort, it did rather the reverse: his fingers trembled, very subtly and very quickly, and she wondered again about those powders he’d taken. She’d never noticed his hands shake before – had marvelled, rather, at their steadiness under pressure. Tonight they vibrated.
“Well then?”
“Oh, you’ll get what you deserve, Keenan. I’ll make sure of that.”
“You ain’t threatening me, Harkness. I ain’t afraid of you.”
“Ah – and here is what’s interesting: I’m no longer afraid of you.”
There was a pause.
“You didn’t think of that, did you? What happens when silly old Harkness is no longer frightened of you?”
Another pause.
“No smart rejoinder from you, Keenan? You’re not generally short of one.”
“Stop your blathering: you paying up or not?”
“I’m not.” Harkness took a deep breath, and Mary heard the smile in his voice. “Did you hear me? I’m not going to pay you any longer, you blackmailing devil.”
James