Page 68 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
Piling into the carriage again, they headed west to the next place, a smaller court near Printer’s Square. The houses at this one were significantly dingier, almost shabby. They were tall and flat-roofed, and likely all broken up into rental rooms. As they paused to map out a strategy, a young man entered the close, whistling as he came.
Niall hailed him, showed him the sketch, and explained their quest.
“Oh? Yeah.” The young man leaned closer to examine the sketch. “Yes. I know him, but Royster, whatever you said, that’s not his name. His name is Miller. At least, we all thought so.”
“We?” asked Niall.
“All of us at Number Seven.” The young man indicated a large, rambling house near the inside corner of the court. “Miller took the ground rooms a couple of months ago, though he don’t seem to be around much. I remember, because he was particular about it being on the ground floor, and Mrs. Cranby—that’s the landlady—is veryparticular about who takes those rooms, as they are so close to her own. He convinced her, though.”
“You are sure this is the same man?” asked Niall.
The young man looked at the sketch again. “Yeah. That’s him. There’s more than a bit o’ talk about him, what with him being the only boarder not theatrical.”
“Theatrical?” asked Gyda.
“Yeah. You know, part and parcel of the halls or theatres, in some fashion. We all are, on account of old Cranby being a former opera dancer. We got us a grand mix of folk, from a mentalist, to pit players, dancing girls, even a ballerina. And me!” He said it with a grin, his face oddly shadowed in the lantern light. “I work the ticket box at the Star. The new chap, though, he’s the only industrial-type bloke we got.”
“Have you noticed a young lady with him lately?” Kara asked.
“Nah. And I woulda heard about it. Old Cranby keeps a sharp eye out for that sort of thing.”
“Would you mind pointing out the landlady’s rooms?” Niall asked politely. “We might as well leave a message with her.”
“Oh, aye. Sure enough. Come along, then.” The young man gestured, and they all fell in line like a row of baby ducks.
Niall took the rear, keeping Kara close in front of him as they filed through the door. When the young man veered to the door at the right of the narrow stairs, Niall nudged Kara to the left. He lifted his chin toward the other set of rooms.
She understood, and ducked into the shadows as the young man lowered his voice.
“I’ll leave her to all of you,” he said, backing toward the staircase. “She’ll jaw your ear off, telling you about her days on the stage. You’ll get a nice spot of tea out of it, but mind, get in and close the door behind you, quick now. Old Cranby is forever chilled, even in the height of summer.”
Niall raised a finger, and they all waited while their young guidewent whistling up several flights of stairs. Once his tune was cut off behind the closing of a distant door, Niall moved them all swiftly into the shadows of the other side of the hall. The lantern Rob still carried showed Kara knelt before the other door, the lockpicks she carried in her altered skirts already engaged.
“Just a moment,” she whispered.
Niall had just enough time to note that there was no light coming from under the door before she spoke again.
“There!”
Taking her hand, Niall pulled his wife up and set her behind him. He put his hand on the door latch and looked back, silently ensuring that everyone was ready.
Eager and expectant faces looked back at him.
Raising a finger to his lips, he swung the door open. They all hovered, staring into the dark silence. Niall indicated that they should wait, then crept forward on quiet feet.
As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a few shapes of furniture. Nothing moved. He heard not a sound. Another door beckoned, but the smaller bedroom sat just as dark and empty. “Come on in, then.”
They all filed in. Rob opened the lantern wider and Gyda found a lamp to light. Together, they stared around at the place. There was a thin rug and several pieces of plain furniture, but the coal bucket was full and the pair of chairs before the hearth were upholstered, if a little shaggy. And on the walls hung a great many framed pieces. Peering closer, Niall realized they were trade bills hawking music hall shows and portraits of performers.
Beth bit her lip. “As sad as this is, Lily probably finds it homier than her sister’s rooms.”
“But where is she?” Kara said, sounding frustrated. “Have we even got the right spot?”
“It’s the right spot,” Gyda said. She stood before a tall chest of single drawers.
“How do you know?” asked Niall.
In answer, Gyda reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick wooden dowel with two rounded, flat ends and a hole through the middle. “The drawer is full of them.”
