The Dagger Dance (Lady Fan Mystery Book 7) by Elizabeth Bailey

Author:Elizabeth Bailey [Bailey, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2021-04-12T16:00:00+00:00

Outside, Francis paused perforce as Ackworth stopped short within a few paces away from the Ostrich.

“I am appalled, my lord. This raises so many questions, not to mention the urgent need for investigations. I had better inform the magistrate at once.”

Francis held up a hand. “Hold for a space, Ackworth. We have only Mordecai’s word for it that there has been mischief afoot, and a cryptic word it is. You don’t imagine he will repeat any of that to an officer of the law, do you?”

Ackworth let out a frustrated sound. “Only under duress. Damnation!”

Francis glanced at the sky. The earlier sun had escaped within the clouds, but there was no sign of rain. “I believe we would do better to repair to this Full Moon.”

“To what purpose? Even if we discover this piratical fellow there, you cannot suppose he will admit to having intentionally sunk the ship and stolen its cargo?”

“Of course not. But we may at least verify his whereabouts and that we have the right man. There is no saying but we may glean something useful too.”

Ackworth blew out a breath. “I don’t like it, my lord. Moreover, the afternoon will be well advanced by the time we get there. One does not wish to be walking such streets in the dark.”

“Then go back to your office and leave me to reconnoitre.”

Ackworth threw up a hand. “Under no circumstances. If you will go, I shall accompany you.”

“Good God, man, do you think I cannot give a good account of myself? I am not such a fool as to enter the lion’s den unarmed.”

A reluctant smile dawned. “You speak as a man of experience.”

“I was a soldier, sir, in war time. It is not an education one forgets.”

With Ackworth’s knowledge of the town, after crossing back over Bristol Bridge and proceeding northwards by a somewhat circuitous route, Francis at length found himself in an unsavoury neighbourhood with narrow cobbled streets, replete with shadowed lanes and filth running through the kennels.

Ackworth halted at length, gesturing towards a shoddy building, both weathered and dirty on the outside walls, and sporting a sign depicting a moon in a night sky. “This looks like the place, my lord.”

“You’ve not been here before, I take it.”

Ackworth gave a grimace. “It is not an area I care to frequent unless I must.”

“Yes, I can appreciate your reluctance. Nevertheless, I think we must at least take a look.” He would have moved on, but Ackworth hung back.

“We will be conspicuous, my lord.”

“No doubt. Wait here if you prefer.”

That galvanised the fellow. “By no means. I would much prefer to trust to a military man than remain on my own out here.”

Francis laughed. “I like your candour. Let us see what we may discover.”

If the Ostrich was not to his taste, this place struck Francis as noxious. The door creaked, opening directly into a gloomy taproom with low beams and walls blackened by smoke, an inglenook fireplace spilling ash, the odd gleam of brass hangings and a pervading smell of burning tallow.

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