Bloody Business by Ash C. B

Author:Ash, C. B. [Ash, C. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C. B. Ash
Published: 2010-11-23T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Cotton-like, gray puffs of rain clouds gathered in eager attendance over the hustle and bustle of the Leith Docks. They mingled with the yellowish vapors of burnt tallow and faint red-orange smog that lumbered in from the main part of the city. Below, workers went about their mid-day as usual, with only the occasional mindful glance at the sky above. Ever watchful, in case the weather chose to feel a bit more puckish and dump a torrent of rain down upon the unwary.

One of the familiar horse-drawn, black leather and wood paneled cabs slowly pulled itself from the regular stream of people and wagons that flowed around the Edinburgh port. The moon-faced driver tugged gently back on the reins. His horse snorted once, shook its head, then slowed to a stop alongside the curb. Quickly, the driver pulled up on the wooden break and draped the reins around the iron rail that ran next to the driver’s seat. He climbed down, just as Captain Anthony Hunter opened the cab door.

“Leith Docks, as ye asked,” the driver said with a smile.

Hunter dug into his pocket and handed the man a shilling, while Detective Oren MacTaggart climbed out of the cab. The driver tipped his worn bowler hat to the captain with a grin. “Do ye need me to wait?”

The captain shook his head and adjusted his weathered long coat, almost as an afterthought. “Gracious offer, but no, my good man. We’ve not the first idea how long we’ll take.”

The driver shrugged. “Ah’d considered takin’ a little stop at a pub just down a bit. If either of ye change yer minds, that’s where ah’ll be. Ask for Larry. They know me there.”

While the driver resumed his seat, Captain Hunter and Detective MacTaggart turned away and walked through the wide gate that was the entrance to the Leith Docks. Behind them, the sound of the horse's hooves on the cobblestones faded into the background.

At mid-day the port was normally quite busy, what with the comings and goings of many kinds of ships, both cargo and otherwise. Today was no exception. Hammers rang against nails where workers under the guidance of shipwrights toiled away at what would later be the keel of a new schooner. Much closer to the waterline, workers in the massive CASS - the eight foot tall brass and steel clockwork suits - lumbered around, heavily laden with freshly off-loaded crates from a newly arrived ship. Hunter guided the detective safely around these and more until they stopped in a small open space between a pair of unused wagons.

Hunter pointed to a well-worn path along the wooden boards that ran between a wet dock for ship construction and a tall stack of crates waiting for their owner. "That way. Last time I recall, the Betsy was berthed just beyond the wet dock. Hiram didn't always dock back there, but usually he did." Hunter walked off in the direction he indicated, stopping a moment later when the top of a pair of masts came into view with its stained canvas sails.

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