The Daredevil Snared

by Stephanie Laurens

  Caleb followed Phillipe’s gaze and saw Harriet and Kate strolling along the side of the barracks. They passed the side window, saw the cavalcade, and halted by the front corner of the building. Folding their arms, they surveyed the bevy of men with apparently innocent curiosity.

  They were close enough to hear what transpired in front of the barracks.

  Dubois emerged and halted on the porch. He gave no sign of noticing the two women; his gaze had fixed on the naval attaché.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Kate studied the man to whom Dubois had addressed the not-entirely-welcoming question. European, possibly Irish if his dramatic coloring was any guide, the man had black hair and regular, somewhat sharp yet handsome features. Of average height, he was carrying a satchel slung over one shoulder and clutched a bulging traveling bag in his opposite hand. He was vaguely familiar.

  “Do you know who he is?” Harriet whispered.

  “No, but I think I’ve seen him around the settlement.” Kate watched as the man climbed the porch steps.

  He halted before Dubois. “We decided it was time I took the plunge and quit the settlement.” The man turned and, from the vantage point of the porch, surveyed the compound. “This looks much more settled since last I saw it—quite the outpost of civilization.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” Dubois returned. “Did something happen?”

  “Yes and no.” The man glanced at Dubois. “Nothing for you to worry about, however.” He returned to surveying the scene. “It’s just that with Decker back in port, matters were getting a trifle fraught. And after your news of the anticipated escalation in output, the three of us decided it was time I left and liaised with everyone from here.”

  Dubois’s attention had shifted to the small mountain of boxes and timbers the native bearers were unloading in front of the supply hut. “What brought on this sudden generosity?”

  The man smiled. “Winton has been stockpiling against the day when the mine went into full production. As we’ve reached that point, we decided the stuff would be safer here than in a tumbledown warehouse.” The man turned to Dubois. “It’s likely Winton will join us shortly. I assume you can adequately accommodate us?”

  Dubois snorted. “I’m sure we can string up a hammock for you.” He tipped his head back at the barracks. “In there, with my men.” He looked across the compound at the men gathered about the mine’s entrance. “I really wouldn’t advise that you even contemplate sleeping anywhere else.”

  The newcomer grunted. “I see your point.”

  Dubois turned back to him. “What about our friend in the governor’s office? Is he likely to turn up here, too?”

  “At present, that’s not part of our plan. He’s more secure than Winton or I ever were, and of far more use to us where he is—neither Holbrook nor anyone else will ever suspect him.”

  Dubois humphed. “Best come inside, then.”

  Kate and Harriet drew back. They walked quickly across Dubois’s window and returned to the cleaning shed.

  * * *

  Later that evening, they repeated all they’d heard to a fascinated and largely silent audience gathered around the fire pit; as Dubois and Muldoon had spoken relatively quietly, the men hadn’t been able to hear the exchange.

  When Kate reached the end of their report, Hillsythe grimly nodded. “So it’s Muldoon, Winton—most likely the nephew, but we’ll know when he gets here—and someone else in the governor’s office.” His eyes narrowed; his voice softened. “Who, I wonder?”

  “No guesses?” Caleb asked.

  Slowly, Hillsythe shook his head. “Holbrook has a staff of three. I was taken before I had a chance to get to know any of them. From all you’ve told us of your brothers’ exploits, and from what we’ve just heard, it could be any one of the three.” His features hardened. “And any one of the three might have learned the real reason I was sent to Freetown.”

  “Never mind that,” Dixon said. “If we’re to concentrate on surviving by stretching out the mining, with all those extra supplies over there, plus all the extra oil Cripps brought in, we’re not going to be able to slow things down by running out of anything.”

  “True, but that’s not going to matter. Not anymore.” Caleb arched his brows. “In fact, all those supplies might end up being to our advantage.”

  Dixon, Fanshawe, and several other men stared at him. “How, for God’s sake,” Fanshawe asked, “do you imagine that might be?”

  Fleetingly, Caleb grinned, but immediately sobered. He went to speak, then realized he couldn’t explain what he’d meant to Dixon and the others without revealing their latest plan—the one the women and children didn’t know about. But he had to say something. “It comes back to what I said earlier. Our first concern has to be to keep Dubois—and now Muldoon, too—from learning of the true state of the rock face in the lower level. We need to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  As if that answered Fanshawe’s question, Caleb looked at Kate, sitting alongside him, and at Harriet and the other women, a few places on around the circle. “It’s possible Muldoon will call first at the cleaning shed to get a look at the raw diamonds. If he does, it would be helpful if you could keep him there for as long as possible—show him how you clean the stones and so on. Drag out his visit by showing him the children’s work, too.” He looked at the children. “And all of you will need to keep your eyes peeled in case Muldoon starts wandering about. Be alert. If he’s around, make sure you’re not adding anything to your stockpile—we need to keep that a secret.”

  The children all nodded.

  When Caleb said nothing more, puzzled, Fanshawe opened his mouth—Caleb caught his eye just in time. Fanshawe registered Caleb’s muted glare and desisted.

  Caleb breathed again; keeping secrets had never been his forte. “I hope,” he said, “that with only a narrow crawl space dug out so far, even if Muldoon comes into the mine, he won’t push to go down to the lower level.”

  “If he does come into the mine”—Fanshawe’s tone was all menace—“we’ll—”

  “Stand back and glare at him,” Caleb cut in. “And by all means do—indeed, if we don’t, Dubois might get suspicious.” Caleb looked around at all the men. “But the one thing we won’t do—yet—is harm a hair on the gentleman’s head. Later, I’m sure that, between us, we’ll ensure he meets with appropriate justice, but at the moment, taking revenge on Muldoon would not be in our best interests.” He paused, then more quietly added, “Please remember that. No matter what provocation or temptation comes your way, don’t lose sight of our goal.”

  Hillsythe came to his aid and asked the children a question, and the conversations about the circle moved on to other things.

  Despite the very real tension among the adults, which Muldoon’s appearance had only increased, they all did their best to put on a good face for the children.

  As usual, Caleb rose to return to the mine with the other men. Now that there was ample oil to go around, Dubois had ordered all the lanterns filled and had directed that the mining of the upper level should proceed with as many men working the rock face as could fit along its length at all times.

  Before retreating into the mine, Caleb crouched beside Kate. “I won’t be around later—we’re trying to work out what to do about the lower level, and Muldoon arriving has made that more urgent.” At least that was nothing but the truth.

  She nodded. “Yes, of course.” She held his gaze for a moment, then raised her hand and touched her fingertips to his stubbled jaw. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He caught her hand and pressed a hard kiss to her fingers, then he released her, rose, and headed into the mine.

  On entering the upper level of the second tunnel, he skirted the men wielding pickaxes and shovels and made his way to the far end, where Hillsythe and Phillipe were
consulting with Dixon. In the bright light of four lanterns trained on the framework at the entrance to the lower level, the three carpenters were arguing among themselves and marking chalk lines on various beams and supports.

  Caleb halted beside Dixon.

  The engineer swung to face him, a sheet of paper in his hand. “I think, between them, these two have come up with what we need.”

  The three proceeded to explain to Caleb how various weights, beams, and hinges could be constructed into what amounted to a trigger with a significant delay.

  When they ran out of words, he looked at all three. “How long a delay are we talking about?”

  Dixon looked at Hillsythe, who exchanged a glance with Phillipe. Then Hillsythe looked at Caleb. “Best guess is fifteen minutes, but it could be half an hour.”

  Caleb grinned intently. “Perfect.” He glanced at the carpenters. “Can we be ready to bring this down tomorrow during the midday break?”

  All three carpenters looked at him and grunted.

  “Let me see.” Jed held out his hand for the trigger diagram. Dixon handed it over. Jed studied it; the other two carpenters looked over his shoulders.

  Jed looked up, handed the diagram back to Dixon, then looked at Caleb. “Not by midday. But with luck, by evening, we should have it done.”

  Caleb grimaced, but nodded. “The evening break, then.” He looked at Hillsythe, Phillipe, and Dixon and lowered his voice. “I daresay I don’t have to point out that Muldoon showing his face here confirms that the backers, whoever they are, have a definite endpoint in mind—one that includes killing all of us.”

  Hillsythe snorted. “If we’d harbored any doubt of that before, seeing Muldoon openly showing his face put paid to it.”

  “We can’t assume Muldoon suffers from the same affliction that keeps Dubois and the others from examining the lower level,” Phillipe said.

  “Exactly.” Caleb looked at Dixon. “I haven’t spoken with Fanshawe and Hopkins, but I imagine they’ll see the situation as we do.” He glanced at Hillsythe and Phillipe. “So are we all agreed that if these gentlemen”—he tipped his head at the three carpenters—“have the beams weakened and the trigger mechanism in place by dinnertime tomorrow, we pull the trigger?”

  As grim-faced as he, the other three nodded.

  “The sooner the better,” Dixon said.

  “Which,” Caleb said, “means tomorrow evening.”

  All four remained nearby for the rest of the shift, assisting the carpenters as needed, until midnight came and they walked out of the mine, all praying that the struts they’d left bracing the partially weakened beams would hold long enough for them to complete the job the next day.

  “The last thing we want,” Caleb murmured to Hillsythe and Phillipe as he glanced one last time at the now-dark mouth of the mine, “is to wake up tomorrow to a partial collapse that’s too limited to do what we need.”

  * * *

  Their prayers were answered. They walked into the mine the following morning to find all exactly as they had left it.

  Dixon studied the beams, then blew out a breath. “Thank God.”

  After leaving Dixon and the carpenters to continue with the delicate deconstruction, Caleb, aided by Phillipe and Hillsythe, spread word of what was planned to all the men before the children arrived to fill their baskets with the loose rocks chipped out of the rock face the previous night. Rather than mining more rock, the men stood back and let the children take their time clearing the tunnel floor. Only when most of the children had departed and one of the urchins posted on watch at the mine’s mouth darted in and hissed, “Guards coming!” did the men hoist their tools and start mining again.

  Even then, they worked as slowly as they could. Everyone understood the need to leave as many diamonds in the rock face as possible; they did everything they could to drag their heels in ways Dubois and his men wouldn’t notice.

  Throughout the day, Fanshawe and Hopkins took charge of overseeing the mining, making sure everything about how the men were working and what was coming out of the mine met Dubois’s expectations and raised no suspicions. The pair directed the various gangs as well as overseeing the children who came in to collect the broken rock. While they kept the upper level thick with men supposedly mining, others went deeper into the first tunnel and continued to generate non-diamond-bearing rock to mix in with the richer returns from the second tunnel.

  Several other men worked with the children to replenish the secret stockpile of diamond-bearing rocks in the alcove off the first tunnel.

  Caleb, Hillsythe, and Phillipe spent their day assisting Dixon and the carpenters. As they were supposed to be working on opening up the lower level, no eyebrows were raised when Caleb, along with four of his men, accompanied Dixon to the supply hut to fetch more timber and the various nails and other bits and pieces required to build their trigger.

  Possibly due to Muldoon being there, the guards—no doubt under Arsene’s and Cripps’s orders—increased their patrols into the mine. However, once inside, their inspections were just as cursory as ever. Even though they saw the group working at the entrance to the lower level, none of the guards evinced the slightest interest in what the men were doing.

  “Not that there is anything much different to see between putting beams in and pulling them out,” Jed huffed.

  As it transpired, precisely because Dixon was the exemplary engineer he was, the structures about the entrance to the lower level proved so very strong and thoroughly braced that weakening the framing to the point that it would definitely give way proved to be no simple task. Especially as there was no way to test their best guess.

  Although they were fairly certain they’d weakened the surrounding beams sufficiently so that once the anchoring frame at the entrance failed, the surrounding beams would fail, too, working out how to ensure the frame fell as completely as they needed it to had Dixon clutching his hair and the three carpenters muttering and shaking their heads.

  Caleb, Hillsythe, and Phillipe exchanged glances, throttled their impatience, and bit their tongues against the impulse to urge the four to hurry, to remind them of the likelihood that Muldoon would all too soon come into the mine; regardless of the need for haste, with something this critical—this finicky and so finely balanced—they couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

  By midmorning, however, Dixon and the three carpenters believed they’d established how to make the critical failure happen. However, once the frame was weakened, how long it would be before it finally gave way was impossible to predict. So after Dixon and the carpenters had agreed on how to most effectively destroy their earlier work, rather than do the deed then and there, the group as a whole turned to building their trigger mechanism.

  A complicated system of levers, pulleys, hinges, weights, and counterweights, with all of them working on it, it was almost ready by the time the midday break was called.

  Caleb accepted his portion of bread and hard cheese, then went to sit beside Kate.

  Kate looked up as Caleb stepped over the log and sat in the space between her and Gemma. As soon as he’d settled, she asked, “Have you and the others decided what to do about the lower level?”

  On her other side, Harriet leaned forward to listen as Caleb replied, “We’re working on it.” He glanced at Gemma, then at Harriet, then looked at Kate. “Has Muldoon visited you yet?”

  She nodded. “But first, he spent most of the morning with Dubois, getting a tour of the facilities.”

  Harriet made an unladylike sound. “The way Muldoon asked his questions, you would have thought this was some kind of sanatorium. Still, he seemed to approve of all the arrangements and amenities Dubois has put in place.”

  “Although he did float the idea that he and this Winton person should take over the medical hut as their accommodation.” Kate smiled cynically. “I
almost applauded Dubois’s response—that if Muldoon wished to take responsibility for his own safety, Dubois saw no impediment to that, but that he—Dubois—could not afford to place guards about the medical hut while still maintaining the necessary perimeter patrols.” She grinned as Dixon and Hillsythe, who had come up and overheard her comments, stepped over the logs and sat beside Harriet. “Muldoon decided that the barracks, although primitive, was adequate for the moment.”

  “It’s the same as usual,” Gemma put in. “They—Dubois and now this Muldoon—didn’t care that we overheard.”

  Kate glanced at the faces around her; they all understood the implications of that.

  “So what happened when Muldoon made it into the cleaning shed?” Caleb asked.

  “He only came in a little before the break was called.” Kate met Caleb’s gaze. “But if the way his eyes lit up was any guide, he’s absolutely fascinated with what we’re doing—and with the diamonds themselves.”

  “Good.” Across her and Harriet, Caleb exchanged a look—meaningful in some way Kate couldn’t fathom—with Dixon and Hillsythe. Then Caleb turned his attention back to her. “Do you think you can keep him with you for the afternoon? In the cleaning shed and with the children?”

  Kate exchanged her own glance with Gemma and Harriet. “We can try,” she replied. “He’s already asked for a demonstration of how we clean the stones.”

  “We can drag that out,” Harriet said. “When we get back, we can hunt out some of the more difficult clumps to clean—that should keep him engrossed.”

  “I’ll suggest he try to clean one himself.” Kate glanced at Gemma. “One of the smaller stones with lots of aggregate clumped around it might challenge him and will take the most time.”

  Gemma nodded. “I saw a rock in the basket that will do perfectly for that. I’ll pull it out and keep it aside when we get back.”

  “If we keep him in the cleaning shed for as long as we can, then take him out with us to go over the children’s discards later than we usually do”—Kate looked at Caleb—“with luck, between us and the children, we should be able to keep him busy almost to dinnertime.”