***
It was five minutes before midnight, when I walked down a small lane between two rows of bandbox houses. We were a block from the river, and the grassy lane between the houses was not wide enough for a carriage or a horse. It was more of a narrow alley than a lane, and the doors to the houses were only steps from each other with all the houses built against one another. I followed behind another man to the third house and waited as he knocked on the door.
It was a two-story house made of brick with one window on the front exterior. A large man opened the door, and I held my breath. I was taking a gamble, and this task could be over in a moment if I was wrong. I kept my shoulders squared as I stepped up to the door. The large man held it open for me to pass into the house.
Leo had helped me with my disguise, and I was pleased to see that I looked the same as every other man in the single room dwelling. I was wearing ordinary, dirty clothing, and a black beard was pasted around my mouth, hanging the length of my neck. Leo had me wearing body padding to make me look larger. One man nodded at me, but the rest paid me no more heed than I paid them. It was an unwritten code with ruffians that you never show fear; you meet their gaze and hold it long enough for you each to understand that the other would not hesitate to kill you if you crossed him.
Many people did not know that such men existed in America, but with men trying to find work after the war, and with immigrants arriving every week, some men were desperate enough to take whatever job offered.
The room smelled like sewage and death. There was a bed made on the floor and a small wood table with a single chair. Two candles lit the room; certainly a big expense. Men who lived in such houses rarely could afford candles, and most lived by the light of day, and when that light went out, they made their way to a local tavern, walked the streets, or simply went to sleep.
A knock on the door stopped all conversation in the room. Nicholas stepped in, holding a lace handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Nicholas was curt as he promised a large sum of money if his orders were followed. Two of the men rubbed their hands together in anticipation, while another licked his cracked lips.
Nicholas said there was to be a party held at the address he would give us. The servants’ wing of the house would be unlocked for the men to enter. Two would stand guard outside the house. Clothing would be provided, and it was required that each man had a bath before they dressed in the clothes. Mustaches were appropriate, but no matted beards. The more Nicholas said; I realized that these rogues were to attend as servants and guests. When one of the men asked who would do the deed, I listened intently.
“Peter will carry out the deed, as he has been successful in past tasks.” The man who had opened the door puffed out his chest.
“Should any of you be captured, remain silent. We will see to your release. Should you talk, you will meet your end.”
Levitas had men in high places if they were able to break the ruffians out of confinement. Our allies in the constables would have to be warned. Nicholas left after explaining how payment would be received, and he handed slips of paper to Peter.
When the door shut behind Nicholas, Peter handed out the slips of paper. Most of the men sat on the floor discussing what to do, but one small man said he had to return to his berth. He left but would not make it far.
I unfolded the slip of paper in my hand and held it up against the only window in the room to make out the address. I sucked in a breath that did nothing to dispel the churning in my gut. The address belonged to Charles Knowlton.
One of the men asked Peter who the victim was. I had not yet considered that it would be one of the guests that the men would harm. Alarm for my mother and sister struck me like a slap. If it were a party at the Knowlton’s, my family would be invited. My mother and sister would be in harm’s way. I had to get those men in chains.
“Ye jest worry ‘bout yer own work an’ let me worry ‘bout mine.”
“Come on, Pete, share with yer mates.”
Peter looked around at the anxious faces; then his chest expanded again. “He’s a man of position, but that’s all I be sayin’.”
A man of position? That could be any number of men in society.
One of the men pulled a pipe from his pocket and went outside to smoke. I needed to speak with my team, so I pulled my own pipe from my pocket. It was a pipe that Pierre gave me through Bess the morning he was captured. I followed the other man out. My meerschaum pipe was a piece of fine craftsmanship with a carved head of Zeus. I had never used it before, but for some unexplainable reason, I felt like bringing it with me on the mission.
The other man leaned against the house and watched me as I lit the pipe with flint, then allowed a few moments to pass in silence and clouds of smoke.
“Be there any taverns near, I am in need of a hearty drink,” I asked in a gruff, but conversational tone.
The man named two within walking distance and added his recommendation to stay away from the dockside tavern. “You’ll meet only cutthroats there.”
Motioning with my pipe, I repeated the directions, and as I did I felt my pipe stem turn. Keeping the pipe in hand, I turned the stem until I felt something click. I raised the pipe to my lips, but no smoke came forth. I held up the pipe, looking at the stem and the other man also stared at the pipe, stepping before me to watch what I was doing.
Somehow the stem was jammed. I raised the stem to my lips, and blew. Something small flew from the front of the pipe and the man before me grunted and raised his hand to his neck, but it never made it. He staggered back and slid down the bricks of the house. Sticking out of his neck was a tiny dart.
Pierre’s instructions were to use it well. I knelt beside him, feeling around for his heart beat. Nothing. Slowly I leaned back on my heels. The man was dead. I pulled the dart from his neck to inspect it. Leave it to Pierre to have a pipe that shot poisonous darts.
Someone came up behind me, and I turned quickly. Jericho stared down at me, his wolf mask giving him a sinister appearance, but it gave me relief. I signaled for Jericho to take the man’s legs and together we lifted the man and carried him to the end of the houses where we lowered him against the wall.
“We caught that fellow who left. He is snugly bound and awaiting transport.”
“Did Artemis follow Nicholas?”
“Aye, and will return when she knows where he has gone,” Jericho replied.
“Good, now let us get to work. There are only four men in the house.”
Bess grabbed my arm. “Loutaire, the man who opened the door, I recognized him.” She inhaled a deep breath. “He was the same man who struck Andrew the night of the musical.”
So that was it. Peter was one of the men from the black carriage. An even greater desire to capture him covered me. Leo and Levi joined us, and the four of us moved toward the assassins’ house, leaving Bess to guard the wagon. I put my mask on and even though the assassins had seen my face, I was wearing a beard that disguised the true shape of my face.
I opened the door to the house and walked in followed by my team. As Jericho closed the door, the four assassins stared at us for a moment before leaping to their feet. They knew whom we were without us having to say a word. It was four against four. A fair enough fight. Peter charged straight for me, but I raised my pistol. He slid to a halt, but it did not stop him as I had planned. He slammed his palm against the side of my pistol, and as it jerked in my hand, my finger struck the trigger and it exploded, the sound nearly deafening in the small room. One of the assassins sunk to the ground and Leo looked from the body to me then laughed. I would have laughed if Peter had not chosen that moment to grab me around the neck and slam my back against the wall. I reached my left hand out and grabbed the back of his head and jerked it toward me, then jammed my right thumb into his eye socket. He cursed, spraying my face with spit, and released me. I ducked and went to move around him, but his hand shot out and grabbed my beard. My head jerked for an instant before a sharp pain shot through m
y face as the paste ripped away from my skin. Peter held the beard in his hand and looked down at it then to me. I took his momentary shock to my advantage, throwing my fist against his stomach. He grunted, dropping the beard. I struck him again. When he hunched over, I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him toward me as my knee came up against his groin. Leo gave me his pistol, so I placed the barrel against Peter’s chin then motioned for him to sit. I never took my eyes from him as he stared down the barrel of the gun.
“I will shoot you and rid the world of your presence,” I said to him, as I could see that he was trying to decide if he could be faster than I could pull the trigger.
Behind us, the sounds punches exchanged echoed through the small room. Jericho, with a bloodied nose, came up beside me and pulled a cord of rope from his pocket. I kept the pistol on Peter while Jericho tied his hands. I told Jericho where to find the paper with Peter’s instructions on it. Jericho pulled it out of Peter’s pocket, but Peter growled and threw his forehead against Jericho’s head. I turned my pistol in my hand and slammed the butt against Peter’s head, twice. Peter’s back slid down the wall, but he was still conscious. I turned my pistol and pointed it again at him, but glanced at Jericho. He was shaking his head, dazed, and when his eyes were again focused, he took a step toward Peter.
“See to the others,” I said, motioning over my shoulder with my head.
Jericho sneered at Peter before moving to where Levi was still fighting one of the men. Jericho grabbed the man around the neck and pulled him against his chest as he waited for the man to lose consciousness. Levi wiped blood from his busted lip. His red eye would turn black. Leo moved to my side as I unfolded Peter’s paper.
Target-J.M. Remove body. Carry to SM where payment will be received.
My mind moved through all the people I knew with those initials, then my eyes slid shut as my heart thumped against my chest. Other than myself, there were two men I knew of with those initials, but only one was frequenting Philadelphia. James Monroe. I turned back to Peter. He was smiling at me like he was happy about something.
“You smile, but we have the advantage of knowing Levitas’ plans, and now that I have you, there will be no more disappearances.” Peter’s grin fell from his mouth.
Once the assassins were bound and loaded in Levi’s wagon, I took a black feather from my pocket and tucked it into the pocket of one of the men. Stepping back, the wagon moved away. Levi and Leo were escorting them to the constables while Jericho, Bess and I waited for Mariah to return.
Ten minutes later, Mariah came running up the path. “I did as you instructed, Raven. He is at the house of Mr. Calvert on Chestnut.”
Bess laid her hand on my shoulder, pressing it for a moment in silent blessing. I turned to look at Jericho. “Take them home, this next task I do alone.”
Chapter 16
Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1) Page 24