The Custom House Murders (Captain Lacey Mysteries #15) - Ashley Gardner Page 0,103

then wiped the pitcher clean or clean enough, and returned it to the stand. Mrs. Beadle, in her zeal to scrub down the room for the next guest, took the pitcher away and washed it, never noticing, completing the erasure of the blood.”

Seabrook’s face was red, and he retreated another step. “The devil I did any of this. You have no evidence. None.”

“I know,” I said.

Thompson wore a grin of delight, an expression I’d never seen on him before. “Never mind that. I’ll be happy to spend time talking with you, Seabrook. We can discover much about the deeds you’ve done before I hand you over to the magistrates. Why don’t you come with me now, and we’ll have a chat?”

Seabrook tried to run, but he was hemmed into the room behind his wall of papers, and we were between him and the door. He moved to the window in a flash, but the sash was stiff, and Brewster was on him before he could budge it.

Mr. Thompson grabbed my hand and pumped it up and down, happier than I’d seen him in a long while. He let Brewster help him take Seabrook out, the man protesting his innocence all the way.

THE CLERK BRISTOW’S true shock when Brewster and Thompson dragged Seabrook away told me he was innocent of his superior’s machinations. The other clerks gained great entertainment watching Brewster strong-arm their overseer down the stairs.

“He is not going quietly,” Grenville remarked. “The other agents involved will be forewarned, and attempt to flee.”

“True,” I said. “But I imagine Seabrook will give up his accomplices to Thompson, and I trust Pomeroy to resolutely track them down. Catching a gun smuggler will be a large feather in Thompson’s cap, and I’m certain the reward for the many convictions will be enough to satisfy even Pomeroy.”

I led the way down the stairs, through the interested throng in the crowded room, and out to the damp, chill air.

“Why the devil did you believe it was him and not Kingston the boys saw?” Eden asked once we’d emerged. The two lads, excited by the encounter, began to run about the wide space before the Custom House, causing men and women to shout curses at them. “I had concluded it was the irritating Kingston murdering these gentlemen, if it wasn’t Fitzgerald.”

“I believed it was Kingston as well,” I admitted. “Until I reasoned out the easiest method for transferring the weapons. The customs clerks took them from the ships and hid them, and either sent the weapons on to the Continent or received the payment from the buyers, or both. Ordinary customs agents would be hard-pressed to run this scheme without being caught, but if a supervisor were in on it, things would run much easier. Kingston is quite tall and thin, but so is Seabrook. Much more probable that a customs official who was always near the wharves ran a weapons-smuggling operation than a missionary from Lambeth, who’d be instantly noticed as out of place. Seabrook knew where Warrilow and Laybourne were housed, as his men had questioned both of them before they left the ship, just as they’d questioned Eden. And then I told Seabrook my suspicions of Laybourne smuggling weapons.” I sighed. “Which I suspect is the main reason Laybourne was killed. Seabrook knew that if Laybourne went up before a magistrate, he’d confess all,” I finished glumly.

I’d blithely told Seabrook that Laybourne was a threat to him, believing myself to be helpful.

“Well, at least you saved me from the noose.” Eden settled his tall hat. “Now, shall we return these lads to their homes?”

I let out a whistle that I’d used to signal my troops across the battlefield—the boys ceased their games and came running. This time, I let them sit up top with Jackson as we trundled our way to Wellclose Square.

“I suspected you were doing a good deed, Eden,” I said as we rolled along. “I simply didn’t know what good deed.” I sent him a look of exasperation. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were up to?”

“Because I’d promised the boy’s mother,” Eden said simply. “She was terrified that her only child would be snatched up and either sent back to Warrilow’s plantation, or far worse. So I gave her my word I’d tell no one until I was absolutely certain Robbie was safe. You must also realize that Mrs. Davies and Robbie had motive for murdering Warrilow—what if Warrilow had discovered where Robbie was? Living just around the