Page 90 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
“Don't think so,” Kenneth pressed.
“Come now,” Cornelius scoffed back. “You cannot expect me to do what I must with a full bladder. The door is just there, I shan't be through the window or any such nonsense.”
“Let him go.” Leah added, jumping up on the windowsill.
“Be quick about it.”
“Fine, fine.” Cornelius clicked through the door to a side passage which connected a room for further entertainment and the study. In the middle of it he entered the water closet.
It was a tiny space with an ornate china dish set out on a low stool, but Cornelius immediately reached up above the door frame, and grasped the hidden pistol he kept there.
After checking to see that it was loaded and primed, he carefully tucked it beneath his light jacket. After straightening his appearance, he stepped back out into the hallway and rejoined his nephew, who stood watching the door with clear anxiety.
“Let's be off.” Cornelius smiled, and out the door they went.
Chapter 23
Nash was running full speed through the streets. He would not be stopped or slowed for anything, not now. The Judge's house was completely out of the way from the Devil's Acre, and Nash knew he had to be fast to get the timing right.
Sprinting down each block, he ducked and dodged the random person or two out for a late-night stroll. Often, he heard gasps of shock, or cries of anger in his wake, but he did not linger on any of them.
He was breathing raggedly, burning his legs, pumping his arms up and down, navigating all the corners, courtyards, and side streets he had become ever so familiar with throughout the course of his life.
Just as he felt he could go no further, he arrived at the home of Judge Roberts. The house was as described to him: an old-looking mansion with stone lions at the front gate. It was rather hard to miss just who and who wasn't the law about London.
Scaling the gate to the courtyard, Nash tossed small stones up at a lit window on the second floor until after what seemed like ages – although Nash couldn't complain about a moment to catch his breath – he saw the large face of the Marquess poke his head out of the window.
“Down here!” Nash called up between his gasps for air.
“Oh my!” The Marquess exclaimed, jumping a bit at the sight of Nash in the courtyard. “How did you...” he trailed off as his eyes moved past Nash to the tall iron gate.
“The meeting is at pier number 6, down on the wharf,” Nash finally had the old fool's attention.
“When?” The Marquess inquired, adjusting his large body to better protrude from the window.
“Right now!” Nash shouted. “Or in a half-hour, at the very least.”
“Goodness!” The Marquess jolted. “Surely, you must come in, Roberts, I–”
“No time!” Nash called. “Meet them there!”
“Meet them?” The Marquess looked shocked at the idea.
“I have to go!” Nash ran back to the gate. He had much more pressing matters to attend to than to coddle the Marquess.Rich folk always seem so surprised about everything.
“We shall meet you there!” Nash could hear the Marquess's voice floating out after him.I surely hope so.
Nash knew he had to go back and grovel before Riphook, and then lie about how he had received the message. How he was going to pull off both lies, he had no idea, but he knew he needed legitimacy.
If there was one person that would lend himself to Nash's aid in that respect, it would be Digby.
Nash wanted to see his friend again, but he also needed that hulk of a man if he wanted to walk through the Devil's Acre, and he knew just where to find him.
Nash sprinted back across town, rushing towards the boroughs. Digby had a half-brother who ran with an outfit down there. The crew was loyal to Riphook, of course, but Nash was confident he would be able to pick Digby out of a crowd.
He landed finally in a small courtyard left to the free agencies of the boroughs. None of the moon's light graced the flagstone floor as a result of the makeshift bridges cutting across the space above him.
“Whatchu' lookin' fer?” a shifty-looking thug slid out of the shadows in front of him. “Yain't from 'round 'ere.” Nash could see many of his teeth were missing.
