Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence #1) - Robert Thier Page 0,288

we will change into guard uniforms, so we can cross the courtyard unmolested.’

With his forefinger, he tapped a spot marked with a longish rectangle and a question mark.

‘The door to the main compound may or may not be locked. My sources have not been able to determine that. But from what I know of Dalgliesh, it will be locked thrice and bound with chains. That, however, is no insurmountable problem.’

It seemed to be, to me, all right. I was just about to open my mouth when Mr Ambrose looked up from the map to throw me a cold glare.

I closed my mouth again.

‘Once inside, things will become more difficult,’ he continued.

Oh, so they’ve been easy up until now?

‘We do not know exactly where the file is. We believe it to be somewhere in this area.’ His finger moved to a red circle that centred on the upper left corner of the building. ‘This is where the office of the overseer was, back in the days when this was still a factory. It is, in all probability, where Dalgliesh’s office is situated now, and where the file is kept.’

He traced a route from the front door to the red circle. I could see faint lines on the old paper, marking a narrow hallway. ‘We will follow this corridor here, and hopefully will not encounter any guards. Yet, even if we do, they should take us for comrades and let us pass. The corridor will lead us straight to where we suspect Dalgliesh’s office to be. When we are there, we will take the file and leave the same way we came.’

‘But… won’t the file be behind locked doors?’

Mr Ambrose patted one of his mysterious bags. ‘Doors are not impenetrable, Mr Linton. What did I say about interruptions?’

‘So sorry, Sir.’

‘Karim?’

The Mohammedan stepped forward. ‘Sahib?’

‘Since you were so obliging as to provide three uniforms, you surely have also brought three of the cloaks?’

‘Certainly, Sahib.’

From his bag, Karim withdrew three mottled brown-and-grey cloaks. A strangled gasp came from Warren, and I remembered what Mr Ambrose had said about the special unit of riflemen under Lord Dalgliesh’s command.

Mr Ambrose threw Warren a look. ‘Yes. It is not only Lord Dalgliesh’s men who can steal up on you unsuspected, Mr Warren. Remember that. Remember it well.’

He threw one of the cloaks at me, wordlessly. As I caught it, he threw the second around his shoulders and, a moment later, seemed to melt into the darkness. I saw only a vague shape moving away.

‘Come, Mr Linton,’ his voice called out, cold and imperious.

I made a move to follow him. Suddenly, Warren, who had watched the whole scene from the background, his mouth slightly open, was stirred into motion. Quickly, he took two steps forward and grasped me by the arm.

‘Mr Linton! You are not truly going to accompany them, are you?’

I looked down at his hand. Quickly, he removed it.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I am.’

‘I hope you do not think I am speaking out of term, Mr Linton, but I would strongly advise against it. The man they are going up against…’ Warren drew his coat closer around himself, as if he were suddenly feeling the cold night air more strongly. ‘Let us just say, you hear rumours when you serve the members of London’s high society like I do. I council you, Mr Linton, desist. Go home. It is nothing any man would have to be ashamed of.’

I gave him a scathing look.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Any man wouldn’t have to be.’

Then, without staying to explain my words, I turned and, drawing the cloak around me, followed Mr Ambrose into the darkness.

Bifurcated

I nearly had to run to keep up with Mr Ambrose as we passed through the dark streets of Chinatown. We circumvented number 97, always keeping a great distance between ourselves and the wall. Not once did he or Karim slow down, his long legs swinging as regularly as a pendulum, the strange, mottled cloak fluttering around his shoulders.

‘Why… are we… in such a hurry?’ I gasped, out of breath.

His voice as he answered was, of course, perfectly calm and collected. ‘Your unexpected appearance and the necessity for an explanation of our plans has cost us time. Time we do not have. The distraction for the guards is scheduled to occur in exactly…’ Fishing his watch out of his pocket, he let it snap open. For a moment, I saw the coat of arms on the lid shining in the moonlight. ‘…six minutes and thirty-seven seconds.’

‘What is