Page 116 of Murder on Black Swan Lane

“Come down from there,” she added. “We ought not risk being spotted.”

“No, wait—I think I see something,” said Raven

“Don’t gammon me,” warned Charlotte.

“There, between the buildings. Someone’s moving!”

She joined him on the top step. But her eyes seemed intent on playing tricks. The shadows all started to sway in time to the rapid-fire beating of her heart.

Charlotte tried to draw a steadying breath.

“There!” repeated Raven and rose to his knees.

She grabbed hold of his coat to hold him back.

At that instant, a small figure burst out from the muddled darkness of the passageway, legs pumping, arms flailing as if a bat from hell was snapping at his coattails. Charlotte heard a voice rise above the thudding footsteps. And then she, too, was scrambling out to the edge of the street.

“M’lady, m’lady!”

Catching hold of Hawk, she gathered him in a crushing hug, tears mingling with an inarticulate bubbling of joy as she pulled him and his brother back into the shelter of the stairwell.

“Thank God,” she murmured, brushing back his tangled hair to press a kiss to his brow.

Raven fixed Hawk with a critical squint that couldn’t quite hide his smile. “You look disgusting.”

“I lost a toof,” announced Hawk proudly. “But that bastard who snatched me is gonna look much worse. Lord Wrexford was spitting fire and threatening te chop off his bollocks.”

Charlotte shrugged out of her coat and wrapped it around Hawk. The sight of the boy’s bruised face and injured eye had her hoping the earl would carry out his threat. What sort of man was monster enough to torture children?

A very dangerous one. And Wrexford was now facing off against him, mano a mano.

She darted a glance at the darkened building, then pulled both boys close and offered up a silent prayer.

* * *

Wrexford pushed the chair and severed rope deeper into the shadows and paused to reprime his weapon. Anger was still boiling through his blood. Judging that surprise was enough of an advantage, he decided to dispense with any elaborate subterfuge and simply walk straight into the devil’s den.

He rather hoped Lowell would put up a fight. The man had a number of sins for which to atone.

Pistol at the ready, Wrexford set his shoulder to the iron-banded door of the storage area and pushed it open. The second door loomed ahead, bracketed by wall sconces that cast flickers of dark and light over the wood and metal. He crossed quickly through the short passageway and took hold of the latch.

With a well-oiledsnick, a pistol hammer cocked.

Not his own.

He turned slowly.

“Tsk, tsk, Lord Wrexford. As a man of science, you should know enough about mathematics to understand that a complex equation always has a number of variables. You should have considered that there would be more than one entry and exit point to my laboratory.” Hinges creaked. “Kindly drop your weapon.”

Lowell sounded smug, and with good reason. Wrexford had let anger get the better of him, and had rushed ahead without thinking. He mustn’t let it happen again.

“The thought had occurred to me,” he replied, calmly obeying the order. “I did take into account the main one by the stairs and this one. It was apparently a mistake to assume there weren’t three.”

“You’ve made a number of mistakes.” Lowell stepped out from the narrow door set within a recessed archway and came closer. The snout of the pistol was aimed at his forehead.

Improvise.He could hear Charlotte’s recent comment echoing in his head.

“Oh, come, give me some credit. I added up a great many complex sums correctly.”