The Custom House Murders (Captain Lacey Mysteries #15) - Ashley Gardner Page 0,92

ready for battle.

Peter saw Donata. “Mum!” he shouted.

No one could stop her. Donata was through the crowded room and to her son, gathering him in her arms.

“Peter, love. It’s all right. I’m here.”

Creasey’s men regarded Donata in some awe, probably shocked she had the temerity to invade this place. Donata straightened, holding Peter, and sent Creasey a gaze that could scorch him to nothing.

“As for you,” she said in her clear voice. “I will have the law on you, for kidnapping, holding my son hostage, and any other crime I might think of. You will never, ever, touch any of my family again.”

Donata was usually cool as an icicle, but when she became enraged, lesser men fled out of her way. Creasey was a hard being, but even he regarded her with his jaw slack, uncertain how to respond.

I moved from the game table to the door, which Brewster had sidled toward while we’d played. He’d let none prevent us from leaving.

Donata did not wait for me. She marched out, Grenville behind her like a sentinel.

“You made one mistake,” I told Creasey in a mild tone. “You upset my wife. She is a very powerful woman, connected to still more powerful men. There will not be many places you can hide from her. The queen, you know, is the strongest piece on the board. Good morning, Mr. Creasey. Thank you for the match.”

I was proud of the little speech and made certain not to ruin it by immediately departing. Eden came behind me.

“Good Lord, Lacey, I thought you’d have us all killed.”

“And we might still be if we do not make haste,” I said. “Brewster,” I called softly behind me.

I heard voices inside Creasey’s office, Denis discussing something with him. I wondered if Creasey would reinstate his truce with Denis if we actually escaped this building.

Brewster did not follow until Denis exited the office unimpeded. Denis’s men surrounded him, enclosing him like pawns around a king.

Creasey’s men let us pass. The sun had risen, and the dim light from the end of the building showed us a horde of them, poised in the shadows. But we moved through and down the stairs without hindrance.

On the ground floor, Denis, striding swiftly, caught up to me. Grenville and Donata, slower with Donata carrying Peter, were just ahead of us.

“Thought I’d soil myself when you took him up on the game,” Brewster said. “You’re a dark horse, ain’t ye, guv?”

Denis moved past us. “We can discuss it later, gentlemen. For now we should move quickly. Quite quickly.”

My heart constricted. “What did you do?” I asked.

Denis did not answer. He hastened his steps, and around us, his men broke into a run.

I hobbled forward as fast as I could. Denis joined Grenville, wrapping an arm around Donata and pulling her onward at a faster pace. Brewster did the same with me, nearly carrying me by the time we burst out of the dark warehouse and into the morning light.

“Do not stop.” Denis kept hold of Donata, who was being very quiet. Peter was too, sensing the danger.

“Better do as he says, guv.” Brewster dragged me onward. Eden took my other arm, the two of them almost pulling me off my feet.

As soon as we reached the mouth of the lane, a huge explosion sounded behind us. The draft shot us out into the road, bricks and pieces of board hurtling toward us and flying along the cobbles.

I turned. Black smoke poured from the building that had housed Creasey, and flames sprang up behind the windows. Screams and shouts erupted from Lower Thames Street, and then the common folk of London rushed toward the conflagration, joining to form a bucket chain to squelch the fire as swiftly as they could.

CHAPTER 23

Denis’s coach waited for us well away from the tumult. Denis assisted Donata inside and Grenville handed up Peter as Denis climbed aboard.

“I’ll leave you here, Lacey.” Eden glanced into the coach. “Not enough room for me. You had me worried, but I might have known you had a trick up your sleeve. What the devil caused that blast?”

I knew exactly what had but decided now was not the time to enlighten him.

Grenville, who also had guessed, answered. “You never know what has been stored in these old warehouses. Gunpowder, rum, brandy. The old Custom House exploded a few years ago, and papers from it were found all the way to Hackney.”

“Indeed?” Eden asked, intrigued. “Hmm, well. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr.