poor health that emanated from Mr. Weaver, Joshua thought. Weaver’s color was not good and his breathing was much tighter now than it had been the last time they had met.
“I must admit I am curious to know why you are requesting my assistance after a year of silence,” Weaver said.
“It’s a long tale and it has not ended,” Joshua replied. “It’s connected to the accident you mentioned. I think that one of the people believed to have died in the same accident is still alive. He has become something of a problem for Miss Lockwood.”
“I see.” Weaver inclined his head toward Beatrice. “I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Lockwood.” He turned back to Joshua. “I am happy to be able to assist you today but supplying two guards is not sufficient to repay the debt that I owe you. I trust you will let me know if I can be of any further assistance.”
“I do have one question,” Joshua said. “Have you heard of an independent operator whose services include kidnapping and murder? He is a foreigner and speaks with a thick Russian accent. Witnesses report that he is entirely bald and has a face like a skull. He calls himself the Bone Man.”
“Sounds like a character in a Gothic novel.” Weaver’s eyes narrowed. “But your description is familiar. Nearly a year ago I heard rumors about such a man. It was said that he was recently arrived in London and that he was an experienced professional.”
“Professional what?” Beatrice asked.
“Assassin,” Weaver explained gently.
“Oh, right,” Beatrice said.
“I let it be known that I would be interested in employing such an expert but he never made any attempt to contact me. In fact, he disappeared almost immediately.”
“He found another employer,” Joshua said.
“I assume this other employer is from your world, Joshua. Because I would most certainly know if one of my competitors had hired him.”
“His new employer is a madman named Clement Lancing,” Joshua said.
Weaver nodded. “I assume you have a plan?”
“The Bone Man’s weakness appears to be his professional pride,” Joshua said. “I intend to use that vulnerability to set a trap but I will need your assistance.”
“Of course.”
Joshua explained the nature of his request. Weaver comprehended immediately.
“That will not be a problem,” he said. “I shall make the arrangements as soon as I return to my office.”
“Thank you,” Joshua said. “Please consider your debt repaid in full.”
Weaver grunted. “I will never be able to repay it.”
Joshua opened the door of the cab and made his way down to the pavement. He reached up to assist Beatrice.
Together they watched the gleaming black equipage disappear into the mist.
“Dare I ask the nature of the favor you performed for Mr. Weaver?” Beatrice asked.
“His daughter was taken when she was a young girl and held for ransom by one of Weaver’s underworld competitors,” Joshua said. “I was able to find her and retrieve her unharmed.”
“I see. That explains why he feels he can never fully repay the debt.”
There was something in her tone that made him realize she was concerned.
“What is it?” Joshua asked.
“Mr. Weaver is a very ill man,” she said quietly. “He is dying.”
“It’s his heart, I’m told. For years he has maintained the truce in the criminal underworld. It will be interesting to see what happens when he is gone.”
Forty-One
Victor Hazelton’s library was infused with the dark, somber energy of long-standing grief. There was something else in the mix, as well, Beatrice thought—a quiet, anguished rage. Victor maintained a stoic façade but she could see the dark currents in his footsteps. She suspected that much of his well-controlled anger was directed at himself. He was the legendary Mr. Smith, after all, tasked with keeping the country safe from terrorists and conspirators. But he had failed to protect his beloved daughter from a madman.
Victor was a silver-maned lion of a man with fierce dark eyes and a commanding presence. He appeared to be in his late fifties but he moved with the athletic ease of a much younger person. It was not difficult to imagine him as a legendary spymaster—privy to secrets in the highest levels of government and Society—sending out his trusted agents to track down traitors and crush conspiracies.
He had clearly been surprised to see them when they had been ushered into the library, but he had welcomed them. Beatrice sensed a certain awkwardness between Joshua and Victor but there was also the unmistakable energy of a deep, long-standing bond.
The three of them were seated in the library, Victor