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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

When we returned to the Aviary, I went over what I’d seen in the warehouse several times, and wrote down everything I could remember for Winnie to look over later. After that, it was clear I was surplus to requirements. It was time for the Aviary to make plans.

“I’ll have a carriage take you home,” Mrs Finch said in a tone that invited no arguments. “We’re always here if anything else happens. In the meantime, get some rest.”

A hackney was waiting for me outside the shop, and I clambered inside. Despite the fact that I was bone-tired, my brain refused to quiet, the excitement of the evening still buzzing through me, a hundred angry bees in my bloodstream. I fidgeted against my seat, my mind running swiftly through the possibilities, turning over everything I had seen and heard. I was so distracted that at first I didn’t notice we were headed in the wrong direction.

I knocked on the roof of the cab. “Excuse me,” I called. “We’re going the wrong way. We need to head for Grosvenor Square.”

There was no response. The carriage only picked up speed, bumping over the uneven surface of the road.

“Hey!” I shouted louder, banging on the roof as hard as I could. “Stop at once. You’re taking us the wrong way!”

Again, there was no reply.

I knew in that moment of ominous silence that something was very wrong. The cab hurtled faster and faster down the road, and we took a corner at a speed that had the whole carriage swaying wildly.

I gave up banging and crawled to the window, leaning out and twisting as best I could to see the driver. They were nothing more than a dark huddled shape up on the box, but given the size of the figure, I was sure the driver was a man – not someone who worked for the Aviary.

“Are you trying to kill us?” I yelled. “Stop this carriage right now!”

“Shut yer mouth,” was the answer I got, yelled over the rattle of the wheels. “I got my instructions, lady, and you ain’t going to Grosvenor Square.”

I might not know who the man was, but I was sure who he worked for. There was only one person who would kidnap me from outside the Aviary’s front door: Edward Laing.

Willing myself to remain calm, I sat back down in my seat. The carriage rattled relentlessly, and it felt as though my brain rattled along with it. What could Laing want with me now? Was all of this because I had refused his proposal? That seemed unlikely, given how certain he’d been of changing my mind. I turned the problem over. Did he know that we had been to his warehouse? If my connection to the Aviary was the reason for this rash action then that was even worse, because it was more than possible he hoped to use me against them in some way. My heart sank. Izzy would do anything to keep me safe.

I had tried all day to find answers but everywhere I turned there were more questions. The only thing I could be certain of was that I was in danger.

There was no sense in panicking, I told myself sternly. I would not sit here and allow myself to be abducted. I wasn’t about to become a pawn in Laing’s game or to let him use me against my friends. I might not be a true member of the Aviary, but I was no mouse. I’d made plenty of my own daring choices recently.

Leaning out of the window once more, I knew we were driving too fast for me to escape unharmed by simply jumping free of the carriage. I calculated the odds of serious injury and they were decidedly not in my favour.

The sensible thing to do would be to slow the carriage enough to effect an escape. I tried to pinpoint where in the city we were and thought we were headed south. I gnawed on my lip, looking about the carriage. The space was empty, a dark, shabby cab like any other. I ran my fingers across the panels of the wall but found nothing useful.

Standing as best I could, I turned my attention to my seat. The upholstery was ripped in several places and, for lack of a better plan, I dug my nails into the torn black fabric, pulling it further back. This revealed the innards of the cushion, and I tugged until I held the small horsehair pad in my hands. Underneath were a collection of springs, but I couldn’t see any use for them.

The most logical way to slow the carriage would be to tamper with either an axel or a wheel at the best possible moment – when we were slowing for a corner, perhaps. The axel was not something I could access, but perhaps a wheel… I glanced out of the window again, wishing I were more familiar with the area. Then I noticed a road I did recognize from my own night-time adventures. We were, in fact, not too far from the Lucky Penny – a place where I knew I’d be safe.

Whatever I was going to do, I needed to do it soon. There was a turn coming up that would require the driver to slow down at least a fraction, and it was probably my best chance at escape.

Reaching into my pocket, my fingers closed round something cool and hard. In the excitement of the evening, Sylla’s pistol had been forgotten, but now it presented all sorts of opportunities.

I could wait for the carriage to stop and threaten the driver with a gun. The problem with that was twofold. Firstly, I wasn’t at all sure I could go through with shooting someone, and secondly, there was every chance the place he was taking me would contain more thugs – any of whom could be armed. Escaping the carriage while in motion remained the best plan. I looked out of the window again, towards the box, and then back at the wheels. I wouldn’t be able to shoot the driver from this angle even if I wanted to, and I couldn’t bring myself to think of shooting at the horses, but perhaps I could destabilize a wheel enough to force us to a stop. At the least, it would slow us down.

A plan came together in my mind: a reckless plan that might end badly, and yet with time running out I knew my only option was choosing the best of the bad options. Lying on my stomach, I crawled towards the door and took a deep breath. Reaching up, I tugged on the handle. The door swung wide on its hinges, flying open and then crashing back towards me. I took the impact on my shoulder as I slid forward, bracing the door open with my upper body.

The ground flew by beneath me, horribly fast, and with each bounce of the wheels I was threatened with the possibility of falling beneath them. My brain screamed that this was an awful idea, but I had no others. Gripping the gun with both hands, I twisted so that I was facing the back wheel, my shoulders clear of the carriage. The air whipped past me, a violent sting that made my eyes water.

I hadn’t lied to Sylla – I was an excellent shot, helped along by an exceptional understanding of angles and velocity. However, shooting at the wheel of a moving carriage while lying on the floor of it was no small task. I took a deep breath, using my left hand to cradle and steady my right as I lined up the shot and squeezed the trigger.

Everything happened fast then. The bullet went wide, glancing the side of the wheel rather than hitting the centre as I had intended, but this still had the effect of causing the wheel to wobble, to falter enough to slow our speed. There was also a factor I hadn’t allowed for – the sound of the gun spooked the horses, who pulled wildly. For a moment I thought I’d sabotaged my own plan as we seemed to gain speed, but then I heard the driver swear filthily as he pulled hard on the reins, trying to get the horses back under control as we headed for the corner. He had no choice but to haul the animals ruthlessly in line, and after a couple of breathless seconds we slowed significantly.

It was enough – it would have to be enough – and I didn’t allow myself to think further. I threw myself through the door, as wide of the carriage as I could manage, curling into a ball before I hit the ground.

It hurt like hell. I may have slowed the carriage considerably, but hitting the hard road was punishing. I felt every bone in my body jar, my teeth rattled in my head, and I saw stars, but I was still alive, bruised and panting, lying to the side of the road.

I scrambled to my feet, dimly registering the pain that crashed over me. The carriage was already slowing to a stop, several yards ahead of me, and so I turned, diving down a nearby alley and running like my life depended on it.

I was briefly disorientated, but then, thankfully, I recognized a building, and from there I knew how to get to the Penny. Not the front, I thought, my mind working as fast as my legs. The front was too exposed, but the back entrance that Davey had showed me – the one that allowed for clandestine comings and goings – that was precisely what I needed.

Hearing heavy footsteps behind me, I pushed myself, flying faster until the almost blind entrance to the alley loomed on my left. I turned into it and saw there was a carriage pulled up there. Without giving it much thought, I yanked on the door and tugged it open, throwing myself inside.

There was nothing then but the laboured sound of my breathing, a darkness wavering at the edge of my vision that threatened to drag me under. I forced myself to take several steadying breaths until slowly, slowly, I came back to myself.

I was, once again, on the floor of a carriage, only this was much nicer than the one I had recently vacated. Dragging myself up on shaking legs, I sat on the plushly padded bench seat behind me and pulled my knees up to my chest. I took the gun from my pocket and pointed it at the door, hand trembling. In the dim first light of morning I waited to see if I would be discovered.

I don’t know how long I sat like that, curled furiously in on myself, the knuckles on my hand white where I gripped the pistol, but no one came. I was just thinking that perhaps it was safe enough for me to try and get inside the building itself, when I heard someone approaching the back of the carriage. There was a groan and a thud as if they were hauling something heavy on to the back, tying it in place.

“I dunno what you’ve packed.” Davey’s voice reached my ears, and I decided it was absolutely understandable that I felt tears prickle in my eyes. The urge to fling myself out of the carriage and yell “Sarsaparilla!” was strong.

“I thought you were only going for a couple of days,” he continued.

“I am,” Ash’s voice replied, and one or two tears may have slipped free then. “I won’t be hanging around beyond making the essential arrangements.”

“And the funeral?” Davey asked.

There was a pause. “We’ll see.”

I was about to stagger forward and announce my presence when Davey’s voice raised: “Oi! What are you doing there?”

“No bother, mate, I’m looking for someone. Seemed she came this way.” The words were conciliatory, but I recognized the harsh voice of the man who had kidnapped me.

“This is private property,” Ash said. “So I suggest you take your search elsewhere.”

I could almost hear Davey’s knuckles cracking.

“Right you are.” A nervous edge crept into the kidnapper’s words. “I’ll be on my way.”

I sat, frozen and silent once more. I couldn’t leave the safety of the carriage while Laing’s man was still in the area. And there was Ash and Davey to think of. This man of Laing’s could have a gun of his own, the two of them could be caught up in the crossfire.

The carriage swayed as Ash climbed on to the box. “You know where to reach me if there’s any trouble,” his voice called to Davey.

“Yes, boss,” Davey rumbled.

I settled back in my seat, thinking hard. I didn’t want to risk being tracked down once more by the man who was chasing me, and I couldn’t risk going home, which was the obvious place to look for me. Ash’s words made me think he must be heading to his family for a couple of days to settle his brother’s affairs. I could let him drive me out of the area, away from my pursuer, and then ask him to help me get a message to Mrs Finch. She would know what to do.

Ash clucked for the horses to move and we rumbled away from the gambling den. I winced as I shifted in the seat, pain singing in every part of my body. It was a miracle that I hadn’t broken anything.

Now that the panic and excitement of the last hour were leaving my system, exhaustion was like a punch in the gut, and I rested my forehead against the edge of the window as the streets of London rattled by. Blackness wavered in my vision once more and this time I could feel it dragging me under. I told myself I was safe for now. My eyes closed.