Page 24 of Glasgow Rogue

It wasn’t exactly a word that described Annie Ferguson.

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Annie hummed a little ditty to herself as she entered the office on a Thursday morning. A little more than two weeks had passed since the club’s protest in front of the cathedral and tension seemed to have died down. Or, at least, Niall was not constantly bringing the subject up.

He hadn’t insisted on accompanying her inside the office either, although she wasn’t sure if that was because she’d agreed to an escort or because he and Aidan had begun appearing on the docks to check any stock leaving the warehouse bound for one of the Henderson ships.

Niall had said he was only showing his brother the whole scope of the shipping business to aid in the opening of the Skye office, but sometimes she wondered if he wasn’t counting inventory just as a back-up for her.

Good lord! Kingsley was already doing that. Did men think women couldn’t count?

But Annie pushed the irritating thought aside.

She wasn’t going to let anything spoil her good mood.

It was a brilliant autumn day with colorful foliage still clinging to the trees.

The sky was cerulean blue with only a few puffy, cotton clouds.

The sun promised to warm the cool, crisp air to make the afternoon perfect.

There was only one shipment of tobacco coming in this morning, and maybe once she’d taken care of the paperwork, Mr. Haines would let her leave.

She’d been wanting to finish reading Sense and Sensibility by an anonymous author, because parts of it reminded her of herself.

Nestling on a bench in George Square would be the perfect place to do it.

She hung up her coat and turned at the sound of the door opening, then smiled at her boss. “Good morning. Ye are just the person I wanted to see.”

He nodded his acknowledgment. “What did you wish to see me about?”

“’Tis going to be a fine day. I was wondering if I might have the afternoon off, once the tobacco is stacked and accounted for.”

“Hmmm.” Haines gave her an inquisitive look. “You are not planning to meet Kingsley some place, are you?”

Annie felt her mouth gape in surprise and closed it. Then she drew her brows together. “Nae. Why would ye think such a thing?”

“Do not take offense,” Mr. Haines answered. “Kingsley sent a messenger around this morning that he would not be coming in today. Something about eating spoiled fish at dinner last night.”

“If the man ate bad fish, why would I be wanting to see him in the first place?” Annie asked.

Haines sighed. “Never mind. I was attempting a jest.”

“Oh.” Annie felt a little foolish. “In that case, I will supervise the storing of the tobacco. The ship docked last night, so the wagons should be arriving any minute.”

“No need to involve yourself since I am here.”

Did Mr. Haines think she couldn’t do the job? “I doona mind. ’Tis a part of my job to ken everything that is in the warehouse.”

“Well, if you wish, you can assist me then.” He tilted his head to listen. “I think I hear horses out back. That should be the shipment.”

Annie gathered her invoices and followed Mr. Haines into the warehouse. Two large wagons were loaded down with a dozen barrels each. That matched her paperwork.

“Careful with handling those!” Mr. Haines said as one of the dock loaders rolled a barrel off the back of the wagon. “I do not want the wood cracking.”

“Aye,” the man grunted and shouldered the barrel. “Where do ye want it?”

“Right over here,” Annie called and gestured to the spot that Mr. Haines preferred.

The worker bent his knees and dropped the barrel with a thunk that made Mr. Haines glare at him.

He ignored the look and went back for another barrel while Annie maneuvered the barrel into place by rocking it from side to side.

“Careful with that!” Mr. Haines called. “If the bottom breaks, the tobacco will get wet.”

“Aye. I’ll be careful,” Annie replied, although she wondered how any of the barrels could get wet, cracked or not. They were specifically stored in the driest spot in the whole warehouse.

When all the barrels were stacked, the head dock loader handed Annie the bill of lading, which she signed and handed back. She and Mr. Haines went back into the office where she made an entry in the ledger and then closed it. “I think everything is taken care of here. May I leave?”

Mr. Haines raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You certainly seem to be in a hurry to go today.”

Even though he hadn’t again mentioned meeting someone, the unspoken implication was there.

What kind of a woman did he think she was?

She grimaced since the honest answer to the question would destroy her reputation.

She drew a deep breath. Her secret was safe, but it would not do to have Mr. Haines think poorly of her.

“I just wanted to spend the day outdoors. ’Tis too pretty to waste such fine weather. ”

Haines nodded. “You can leave in a few minutes. I just want to secure the warehouse first.”

He had just gone out when the front door opened again. Two men she didn’t recognize came inside. Neither one was dressed formally, although the taller of the two wore a morning coat and long trousers. The other had on breeches with knee-high boots and a heavy woolen fisherman’s knit sweater.

“I am Miss Ferguson, the office manager,” Annie said. “Can I help ye?”

“Aye,” the taller one answered. “I am David MacQuarrie, magistrate. This is Tevis Shaw, a revenue man.” Mr. MacQuarrie looked around. “Is Archibald Haines here?”

“Aye. He is in the warehouse,” Annie answered. “I will get him for ye.”

“Just take us there instead.”

Annie nodded. “Follow me, then.”

Mr. Haines turned as she led the men inside. He must have recognized at least one of the men because his eyes widened. “What do you want?”

The magistrate removed several pieces of paper from his vest and held one out. “I am authorized to inspect the shipment you just received.”

“Why?” Haines asked, not taking the paper. “It is only tobacco from Virginia.”

“That may well be,” the magistrate answered. “My orders are to inspect it.”

Mr. Haines grabbed the paper. He read it quickly, his lips tightening into a straight line. “Very well. Pick a barrel and I will open it for you.”

Tevis Shaw pointed to a barrel in the middle of the stack.

Mr. Haines looked as though he wanted to argue, but then motioned for several of the warehouse workers to start removing the top barrels.

They were clearly curious. Annie was too, but as much as she wanted to ask what was going on, she managed to keep silent.

Soon large, flat tobacco leaves were strewn over the floor. Both the magistrate and the revenue man peered inside.

“There. The barrel is empty,” Mr. Haines said. “Are you satisfied?”

The magistrate stepped back, but the revenue man didn’t. Instead, he picked up a crow bar and started poking around, tapping the sides and bottom.

“Now see here,” Mr. Haines said. “If you crack the sides, the barrel will be worthless.”

Instead of answering, the man hooked one of the boards and pulled, causing a loud splintering noise.

“Stop that!” Mr. Haines shouted and moved forward, only to be restrained by the magistrate while the revenue man tipped the barrel over.

Gold coins splattered and rolled across the floor.

Annie stared at them. What in the world…? She looked quickly at Mr. Haines.

He was staring at the money too. “How did those get there?”

“Why don’t you tell us?” the magistrate asked.

“What do you mean?” An indignant expression crossed Mr. Haines’ face. “You cannot think I knew anything about this!”

MacQuarrie looked at him speculatively. “I do not think it likely someone would put gold in a false barrel bottom unless it was intended for the receiver.” He glanced at the paperwork he still held.

“According to this, you purchase barley and trade it for tobacco, which you then have processed by local cigar shops.”

Haines narrowed his eyes. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I did not say there was,” MacQuarrie answered.

“It is all perfectly legal. I pay my export and import taxes.” Haines gestured. “Ask your revenue man there.”

Tevis Shaw stopped pulling tobacco out of a second barrel. “Our records show taxes paid on the barley and tobacco. What they do not show is tax paid on opium smuggled into this country illegally.”

Annie felt her mouth drop open. Opium? Here? In the warehouse?

Mr. Haines tugged on his lapels and lifted his chin. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

Tevis hooked the bottom of the second barrel with the crowbar and tipped it over, splattering more gold coins on the floor and then straightened. “I believe the opium you did not pay tax on was not only smuggled into this country, but also smuggled out to the States.”

“Believe what you want,” Mr. Haines huffed. “It is nothing more than a theory.” “It is a bit more than that.” MacQuarrie shuffled the papers in his hand and held one up. “A signed confession from the man who admitted to smuggling opium to you.”

Mr. Haines paled, then pulled in a breath. “Nonsense. Everyone knows the English have no love of Scots. You probably tortured the poor man.”

MacQuarrie shook his head. “We did not need to. Apparently, you did not pay as well as our agent who questioned him.”

“Bribery,” Haines declared. “A false confession that does not prove anything.”

“Perhaps not by itself,” the magistrate replied, “but we also put an agent on an earlier ship that delivered the barley to Virginia. The Americans inspected the barrels on their end and found the powder. Our man returned last Friday with the results.” MacQuarrie folded the papers and put them back inside his vest. “I am taking you into custody, Archibald Haines.”

Sweat broke out on Mr. Haines face. “No!” He turned and sprinted to the back door, knocking several warehouse workers aside.

Tevis looked up from the third barrel he was starting to empty. “Are you not going after him?”

“I have men covering both exits,” MacQuarrie answered. “As soon as he’s shackled, some of them will come inside to help you with emptying the rest of this shipment. Meanwhile…” He looked at the workers who stood around, gawking openly at him. “I suggest the rest of you leave.”

No one waited to be told twice. They practically tripped over each other trying to get out. Still stunned, Annie watched them leave and turned to the magistrate. “I doona think any of them kenned anything about…this.”

MacQuarrie shrugged. “I am more interested in finding out what you know about all this, Miss Ferguson.”