by Rebecca King
Joe had to agree with Marcus’ reasoning. If he had been in the man’s position, he would have done the same thing. Marcus would too, he knew it.
“Was there anyone out and about at the tavern?” Joe asked.
Marcus shook his head. “No. The entire village is as quiet as the graveyard.”
As if to prove his point, absolute silence settled about them.
“Someone is watching us,” Marcus whispered.
“You feel it too, do you?” Joe replied, his lips barely moving.
Was their quarry waiting for them to leave the area so that he could continue on his journey without them?
“Well, we have his mount. He abandoned it in the tavern yard,” Marcus whispered. “Unless he is up for a bit of horse theft, which is something we can arrest him for, he has to either try to get his horse back or take a long walk. Either way, he is doomed to failure.”
“If he is waiting -”
“Oh, but he is waiting,” Marcus drawled.
Now that the game had changed, all of his previous exhaustion had vanished in an instant. In its place was a ruthless determined not to give in.
“What do you want to do?” As Joe spoke, he scoured the trees for signs of movement.
“It is, I think, an hour before dawn. We are going to find somewhere to hide, and will lie in wait. If our man doesn’t make an appearance, then it is safe to say that we have lost him,” Marcus replied. “However, we have to assume that he lives around these parts somewhere. For now, all we need to do is find out where.”
“He has the box on him,” Joe warned.
“I know,” Marcus replied. “So he has to meet someone to hand it over, doesn’t he? At some point, he has to come out of the undergrowth. When he does, we will be waiting.”
“How do we know that the woods are wide, but not very deep?” Joe asked with a frown.
“Because you are going to lie in wait for him here and I am going to go down the road. Then I will double back, take a good look at those woods, and see what is on the other side. If I see him, I will try to flush the bastard out.” He didn’t wait for his colleague to reply and stalked back toward the village. Within seconds he had vanished into the shadows.
Marcus set to work. Keeping to the shadows, he manoeuvred his way around a long row of houses which bordered the edge of the woods. He vaulted over a low stone wall and quietly made his way into the trees to begin his search.
It didn’t take long to find his quarry. Luckily, the man was walking steadily through the trees toward him. Marcus buried himself in the undergrowth and waited. Rather than approach, he eased closer and tried to get a good look at the man’s face. To his disgust, the tree cover thwarted him. It was too dark. With still no idea of whom the man was Marcus decided to follow to see where he went. He needed to know which house he occupied in the village because from the confident way the man strode through the undergrowth; there could be little doubt he was a resident.
“Now, where did you get those from?” he whispered, eyeing the dead rabbits slung over one shoulder. “How did you get those so quickly?”
Something wasn’t right. The cloak the man wore was the same. The build exactly right, but there was something wrong with this man only Marcus couldn’t decide what it was.
Why was he walking around in the middle of the night if he wasn’t their escapee, though? As soon as he had reached the village, why did he not lie low somewhere and wait until morning?
It was highly unlikely that there would be more than one man walking around a village like this in the middle of the night, Marcus mused.
“It has to be him,” he breathed.
If it wasn’t the man he was after, why was he walking around in the middle of the night, using the woods as protection? It was certainly an unusual time to be hunting game.
Marcus watched the man stop, and take a careful look around. Once assured he was alone, the man resumed his journey. Minutes later, he disappeared into the back of a somewhat run-down house on the outskirts of the village.
“Home,” Marcus murmured as he watched the door close.
Settling back against a tree, Marcus waited to see if he would re-appear. To his surprise, he had been in position for only a few minutes when a short, rotund man appeared several feet away. Unaware that he wasn’t alone, the stranger studied the back of the house. He didn’t approach, or do anything other than study the property. Seconds later, his blistering curse shattered the silence, and he disappeared back into the trees.
Now, who are you?
Shaking his head in disbelief, Marcus set off after his new target.
CHAPTER THREE
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our elusive Benjamin Parkinson,” a cold voice drawled into Ben’s ear.
Ben made his face as expressionless as possible and sighed. He took a long sip of his ale and placed his mug carefully onto the battered bar before he turned to face the magitrate’s assistant.
“What do you want, Carruthers?” he demanded coldly.
“We know about the brace of pheasants you stole from the Priory,” Carruthers declared officiously.
Although he appeared to be in the tavern on official business, he spoke in a tone that was quiet and menacing. It was clear that he didn’t want the tavern’s other patrons to know what was happening, but it had nothing to do with preserving Ben’s reputation.
“I have taken nothing,” Ben replied. “You have nothing on me, and you know it.”
Marcus took a sip of his ale and watched the barmaids’ backside sashay past for the umpteenth time. He didn’t bother to respond to the flirtatious looks she kept giving him, primarily because his attention was focused firmly on the conversation beside him.
He had followed the lad as soon as he had left the lodging house this afternoon, and was curious to know who he was. Not only that but this Carruthers was the man who had also followed the lad home last night.
Ben’s attitude irked the somewhat officious gentleman, who puffed out his chest with indignation and glared at him. Marcus watched the man’s fingers twitch and suspected he was some an official of some kind in the village. He was familiar with a gun. He was, however, also poorly trained, bad mannered, and offensive. His demeanour gave the impression that he was more of a thug than a protector of the people.
No wonder Bamber’s contact made his way here. With this buffoon posing as the law around here, it is guaranteed that he won’t get caught. Marcus mused as he strained to hear over a loud blast of ribald laughter.
“You won’t be so smug once I have you behind bars, Parkinson,” Carruthers threatened. “When I do put you in gaol, that sister of yours will be easy pickings.”
“You leave my sister alone, Carruthers,” Ben snapped. He rounded on the official and glared angrily at him.
“Keep it together,” Marcus murmured into the lad’s ear.
He willed the lad not to fall into the magistrate’s ready hands. It wasn’t that he wanted to protect him in any way, he just suspected that this Carruthers fellow would cause more problems for the Star Elite than they needed right now. Before Ben could reply, a second man appeared beside them. It was clear from the way he moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Carruthers that he was a colleague of some sort.
Marcus mentally groaned and took a long drink of his ale in an attempt to hide his disgust.
“We know it is you,” the new arrival murmured.
“Lloyd, you know nothing. I ain’t done nothing wrong,” Ben protested.
“So, why were you seen in the woods last night? When most people are tucked up in their beds, why are you out and about?” Lloyd poked a finger into the lad’s chest.
“It’s nothing to do with you,” Ben countered. “I am not under kerfew. I do not have to explain my comings and goings to you, and you know it.”
The conversation was starting to draw the interested gazes of several of the locals. The noise within the busy tavern dimmed as everyone listened and watched what was happe
ning.
“Don’t threaten me, or my sister,” Ben warned.
“What are you going to do about it?” Lloyd demanded.
It quickly became evident to Marcus that Lloyd was the magistrate, and Carruthers was his assistant. However, he had little doubt that they were both as corrupt as the man Marcus had spent the better part of last night following.
Thankfully, Joe chose that moment to appear beside him. Marcus met his colleague’s gaze but, rather than acknowledge him, he took a sip of his ale and pointedly turned his attention to the argument that was brewing.
“I ain’t stolen nothing from nobody, and neither has Jessica. You leave her alone. I know about your visit. You have no business going around to the house to bully her. It’s not fair.”
A few cries of ‘here, here,” went up around the tavern. The atmosphere suddenly grew tense and expectant.
“Stay away from me, Lloyd, and don’t threaten me,” Ben instructed.
“If I catch you stealing game from the Priory, I will put you behind bars, Parkinson,” Lloyd countered. “That’s my job.”
“It is also your job to work within the law so don’t pester innocent people.”
One again, another cry of ‘here, here’, rippled through the crowd. Everyone turned accusing eyes on the magistrate and waited to see what he would do.
Clearly furious at being shown up as a corrupt official, Lloyd turned and stalked out of the tavern. The loud slam of the door behind him warned everyone he was angry. With the main source of the discontent gone, everyone turned to stare at Carruthers. He turned a glare on Ben but, before he could speak, the lad shook his head.
“Shut up, Carruthers.” He abruptly turned away, effectively dismissing him as insignificant.
When Carruthers remained where he was, Ben downed his ale in one gulp and stomped out of the tavern without a backward look.
Marcus finished his ale and followed, throwing Carruthers a disinterested look as he left. Shaking his head at the complexity of the problems before him, he made a mental note to write to his boss, Barnaby Stephenson, to inform him that he and Joe would be in Smothey for a while. Hopefully, Barnaby would come to help. He suspected that he would need all of the available Star Elite men to pitch in if he wanted to get to the bottom of Ben’s crimes. The most important of which was transporting the gems for Bamber to the Smothey.
Once outside, Marcus walked casually toward the lodging house. As expected, he managed no more than twenty paces before the magistrate fell into step beside him.
“Evening,” the magistrate said amiably enough.
“Evening,” Marcus replied in a tone that didn’t invite conversation.
“You are new to this area,” Lloyed began. It was evident that the man expected Marcus to stop and talk to him.
Marcus didn’t slow his pace. Rather than go to the boarding house with the magistrate in tow, he took a random route around the village. He didn’t even speak to the magistrate again before he took the opportunity to get rid of the man, and crossed the street. He dodged around a passing cart as effectively as he had avoided conversing with the man and left him behind on the opposite pavement. When he glanced across the street, he was unsurprised to find Lloyd glaring at him.
Marcus had seen men like this Lloyd and Carruthers before and knew that they were itching to assert their authority over the newcomers in the village. If Marcus were to give either man a chance, they would undoubtedly question him about why he was there, and issue some threat, or veiled warning. It would all happen in an attempt to leave Marcus either in awe of Lloyd, or worried about taking a step out of place. Given the locals’ reaction to Lloyds presence in the tavern, both the magistrate and Carruthers had most probably offended most of the villagers at some point. Still, it had nothing to do with why Marcus was in the village, so he turned his attention back to the investigation he was there to carry out.
Minutes later, he tapped Joe on the shoulder.
“I have been waiting for you,” Joe murmured.
“Sorry. I was trying to follow that lad but got waylaid by the magistrate.”
Joe snorted. He knew that look on Marcus’ face. It said everything about just how worthwhile the law in the village was.
“Let’s go,” Joe murmured and led the way out of the tavern.
They took a seat beside the small stream that flowed through the village so they could talk without being overheard. The position Marcus and Joe chose had a good view of the main street. They were able to watch the activity of the locals while they chatted.
“The two who represent the law around here are corrupt,” Marcus murmured.
Joe nodded. “It doesn’t surprise me. I followed our target to the far end of the village. He circled a few times, but I lost him near the row of cottages we passed on the way in here. I have been keeping watch, but he has yet to resurface.”
Marcus frowned at him. “But, I followed the contact all the way to the lodging house over there.”
He nodded to the opposite side of the village and shared a worried glance with his colleague.
“Who did I follow then?” Joe murmured.
“I don’t know, but one of us has followed the wrong lead,” Marcus replied thoughtfully. “I am sure that the man I followed was the right one. He had the same build, the same cloak, and the magistrate has just warned him about poaching, so he has a criminal side.”
“Well, the man I followed looked identical to our thief as well and was furtive when he left the woods further down the road last night. He hurried home as soon as he thought we had gone. He hasn’t been seen since, but I suspect he is still in one of those houses somewhere.” Joe sighed and yawned. “Do you think one of them was a decoy?”
Marcus shook his head. “I am not sure. If they were, how did he get word to his associate that a decoy was needed?”
“Good point,” Joe sighed. “Great. Now we have two suspects to find, and two corrupt officials to avoid.”
“I am going to sort out lodgings at the boarding house. The man I followed lives there with his sister. If I can get inside, I can find out whether that Ben chap is the right one or not.”
Joe nodded his agreement. “I am going to take lodgings at the tavern. If I pay extra, I should be able to get a room at the front that overlooks the houses I need to monitor. Between us, we should get something to prove which man is the one we are after. He is here somewhere; I can feel it. We have just temporarily misplaced him.”
Marcus grinned. “What do you think we should do about the authorities?”
“Avoid them for now,” Joe replied thoughtfully. “If you write to Barnaby, ask him for help. We need someone to watch them.”
Marcus frowned at him. “Do you think he might have something to do with the jewels as well?”
“I am not sure. If the man is corrupt, we will find out soon enough. There is no telling what that man is up to if there is nobody around to watch him.”
“What a mess.” Marcus yawned and pushed to his feet. “I am going to sort out a room at the lodging house then. What did you do with the horses?”
“They are in the tavern, but let’s just say that they are hardly prime horsemeat. It might be best if we source a couple of fresher horses while we are here. You know, just in case we have to chase anyone. If we have to rely on those two nags we might just be better off walking,” Joe murmured as he pushed to his feet.
“Meet you back here at eleven tonight,” Marcus promised and ambled off to find a bed in the lodging house.
Once around the corner at the end of the street, he slammed to a stop just in time to watch a small, neatly wrapped package disappear into Ben Parkinson’s jacket pocket. It didn’t look the same as the jewel box Rawdon Bamber had stolen from the Squire’s house, but it was very similar; almost too similiar. Judging from the furtive way the lad studied his surroundings as he sauntered off, Marcus suspected the package’s contents were illegal. Marcus turned his attention to the lad’s contact.
&n
bsp; There was a cockiness about him that smacked of someone who broke the law, and didn’t care about the consequences. Marcus knew, however, that seemingly innocuous sides to people could often hide the most heinous criminal minds known to humanity.
He had been working for the Star Elite long enough to recognise when someone was up to mischief, and Ben and his contact were certainly up to no good. The magistrate certainly seemed to think so and, until Marcus could find some proof to indicate otherwise, he had to agree with him.
“Are you the one we are after?” Marcus whispered as he followed Ben’s contact through the village. Minutes later he stood beside Joe and watched Ben’s contact enter the back door of one of the houses Joe was watching.
“Bingo,” Marcus murmured.
“How did he get out?” Joe gasped in astonishment.
“Through the back door, I suppose, why?” Marcus sighed.
“I have been watching the front and the back of the house from the end of the road. Nobody left that house, Marcus. Just what the Hell is going on around here? Who is he?”
“I think we have a problem,” Marcus replied. “Either someone is playing tricks with us, or we have three potential suspects on our hands. Two of whom live in that house across the road. The other lives in the boarding house at the far end of the village. Are you sure that man isn’t the one you followed last night?”
“Positive,” Joe sighed. “The one I followed didn’t have an ample girth on him like that one has.”
“Then the man you followed has to be still in there. The one who has just entered the property must be a relative, a brother, or a colleague. Whoever he is, he is a thug. Ben has now gone home but with slightly heavier pockets than he had earlier,” Marcus said meaningfully.
When Joe raised his brows, Marcus explained what he had witnessed.
“We need to find out which one has the stolen goods on him.”
“There can’t be a network of them, surely to goodness?” Joe murmured in astonishment. “Not in a tiny village like this.”
“I don’t know,” Marcus sighed. “I sincerely hope not.”