The Custom House Murders (Captain Lacey Mysteries #15) - Ashley Gardner Page 0,88
the lane we went. No one tried to assault us or shoot from on high. We walked unchallenged to the door where Creasey lodged, and I rapped upon it with the walking stick.
The door opened, and the thin lackey who’d greeted us the first time peered out. His eyes widened when he saw me with Denis.
“I’ve brought him.” I stepped up to the man. “Tell Creasey to send Peter out.”
“No, guv.” The lackey opened the door wide. “You’re to come in. If ye want t’ see your stepson alive, ye bring Mr. Denis upstairs.”
CHAPTER 22
I gazed into the chill, dark interior of the warehouse, knowing that if I went in, I would be hard-pressed to escape.
On the other hand, Peter was in there, or so I was to believe. I could not chance that Creasey wouldn’t send out his body if I refused, so I planted the walking stick on the threshold and crossed it.
Denis came behind me, removing his hat as though he were making a formal call. He did not offer to fight or argue, said nothing at all. Brewster flanked him, and Eden kept an eye out from behind.
The lackey seemed a bit surprised that I’d readily obeyed, but he bolted the door and led us across the large empty space toward the stairs at the back, the lantern he carried a pinpoint in the darkness. I was aware of watchers in the shadows, hulks of Creasey’s men staying just out of sight.
The stairwell was as filthy as ever. I used the walking stick to balance myself and noted that Denis kept to the middle of the steps, not letting his greatcoat touch the walls.
Upstairs was dark, the lackey’s lantern barely cutting the gloom. I sensed more watchers here, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
When we arrived at the office door, the lackey reached for the handle. I pushed him aside and opened the door myself.
The cluttered room was full. Creasey had brought in guards, all large and powerfully built. That each was armed, I had no doubt.
Creasey sat behind his desk. On a chair beside him, hands tied with a thin rope, a dirty gag in his mouth, was Peter.
He’d been crying, and his face was dirty, but I saw no bruising or abrasions. Peter met my gaze as I came in, his glare reminiscent of the late Lord Breckenridge’s.
My heart beat thickly, and my legs threatened to buckle. Peter was here, and alive.
“I’ve brought Denis.” My words cracked as I jerked my thumb behind me. “Give me my son.”
“I will, in time.” Creasey had the audacity to send me a smile over his laced fingers.
I lunged at him, brought up short by four men who held me hard. “Now,” I said, my voice strengthening. “That was the bargain.”
“Yes, but Mr. Denis has not kept his part. His toughs are surrounding my house even now, ready to battle it out. He has used my summons as an excuse to put himself in a position to best me, and he knows it.”
“Whatever our differences are.” Denis’s tones were frigid. “They have nothing to do with Lacey and the boy. Take that rag out of his mouth and hand him over.”
Creasey signaled to a man standing behind Peter. The man cut loose the gag and pulled it away. Peter tried to bite him.
I raised a hand in a calming gesture. “My friends and I will take my son and go. You have Denis. That should be enough.”
“Unlike you, I have no trust in him,” Creasey said. “I apologize for the gag. The boy has a foul mouth and a vile temper. I’d watch that, were I you.”
“Come, Peter, we are going.”
“Now, now.” Creasey lifted a finger. “I do not trust you either. But I know you are a man of honor. You wear it like a cloak. What I propose is this.” He folded his hands once more. “You were an interesting opponent in our game of chess. You and I will have a match. If you win, you take your son and leave unheeded. Your friends and Denis and all his men will be free to as well. We withdraw to fight another day.”
“And if I lose?” I asked tightly.
“You and your son will still be released. But all the others, including your army friend and your lackey, stay with me. To dispose of as I see fit.”
“This is not their fight.” My voice took on a growl.