Page 61 of Evil at the Essex House
Wolfgang withdrew with a smirk and a final lingering glance at me, and I dropped my hand and turned to Christopher. “No Tom?”
He shook his head. “Still not back yet, it seems. I left another note.”
“We should go, then.” I glanced around the lobby. Wolfgang was almost to the lifts by now, but I didn’t see anyone else I recognized. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Schlomskys come through while you’ve been sitting here?”
“Not that I noticed,” Christopher said. “But it’s still early. Unlike us, I don’t think they’re planning to lie in wait.”
No, they would most likely get to St Olave’s as close to eleven as they could, drop the money, and hurry away, the sooner to see their daughter again.
“No sense in waiting,” I said, and headed for the front doors with them both picking up the rear behind me.
ChapterFourteen
The other endof London Bridge was quiet on a Saturday night in August. There was some noise from the docks down the river, winches grinding and heavy loads dropping, but just below the bridge, where St Olave’s—or what was left of it—was waiting, it was dark and silent.
“The H6 is likely to draw attention,” Christopher said, looking at it, and I nodded. There are only so many blue Hispano-Suiza racing cars in London at any given time, and most of the constabulary, at least, recognize this one.
Crispin gave him a scowl. “Thanks a lot, Kit. Shouldn’t you have thought of that before you asked me to drive you here?”
“As if I could have kept you away,” Christopher sniffed. “As soon as you found out that?—”
“Yes, yes.” Crispin waved him off. “Never mind that. What do you want me to do with it?”
“I’m sure we can find somewhere to tuck it away,” I said, looking around. “And you along with it.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but Christopher nodded. “That’s a good idea, Pippa. Someone should stay with the motorcar.”
Crispin had his lower lip stuck out petulantly. “Why does it have to be me?”
“It doesn’t,” I told him, “but whoever stays with the motorcar will have to follow the kidnappers and the ransom, and I assumed you would rather keep your precious out of my hands.”
He gave me a look down the length of his nose. “Indeed.”
“So you’ll do it?”
He made a face. “I suppose. I’d rather not haveyoutake off in my motorcar, at any rate.”
“No,” Christopher agreed. “We can’t have Pippa go off alone. What if something happened?”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I said, “thank you very much.”
“Of course you are. But Mum and Dad would kill me if they knew I had left you to fend for yourself, and in Southwark of all places. So unless you want me to be killed the next time we visit Beckwith Place, I’m going to request that you stay with one of us, and the other stays with the Hispano-Suiza.”
“Fine,” I said. “It’s all set, then. You and I go inside the tower, while Crispin lies in wait in the shadows. And when the kidnappers pick up the ransom,” I told him, “you follow them.”
He didn’t say anything, and I added, coaxingly, the way I would have done with a recalcitrant five-year-old, “It’s a very important job. They may take you to the place where Flossie is kept.”
Which was true. Itwasan important job. And I wanted to do it myself, but I knew that the chances of me being allowed to go off by myself in the Hispano-Suiza, trailing a kidnapper, were below nil. I accepted it with as much grace as I could.
“But don’t go inside,” Christopher added, for Crispin’s benefit. “Not alone. Come back for us first. Mum and Dad would kill me if anything happened to either of you.”
Crispin nodded, but he still looked unhappy.
“Or you can stay here and protect Pippa,” Christopher added, “and I’ll follow the kidnappers.”
There was a moment’s pause. Crispin looked at his beloved, and then at me, and then back at the beloved again. Indecision was writ all over his face. I was about to make a snide comment about my value or desirability vis-à-vis the automobile when Christopher went on.
“I’m capable of handling your motorcar, you know, and I’m also capable of protecting Pippa should she need it?—”
