Page 29 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

Beckworth paid the stablemaster to board his horse for a few hours.

He strolled along the dock toward the Daphne Marie that was moored nearby.

He was early, having enjoyed the ride through London, taking note of anything that had changed since his last visit and stopping to chat with crew members he recognized along the way.

Two urchins, a lad and a lass from one of the crews, raced past him but stopped after a few steps and turned around.

Their eyes lit up with recognition, and they ran back to him, managing to beg a couple of coins from him—the ruffians.

He grinned at their audacity, something that would serve them well for their future.

When he spotted the Daphne , he stopped and settled down on a barrel to simply admire her.

He’d traveled on her several times before he’d met Stella.

Now, whenever he saw the ship, it was Stella who first came to mind.

As much as he’d been against it, and how dangerous it ended up being, he’d enjoyed traveling the coast by her side, searching for smugglers.

Similar to AJ, Stella never hesitated to pitch in where she could, happy to perform menial labor if it helped the ship’s crew or the cause.

He thought about the times they’d made love on that ship, which reminded him of that morning when Stella had woken him.

It was a rare time indeed when she woke before him; unfortunately, it was usually associated with her broker business.

That morning, she’d had more intimate thoughts in mind, and he spent a few minutes replaying those moments before someone nudged him off the barrel. He spun around, reaching for his dagger, irritated that he’d let his defenses down. The docks could be a dangerous place, even during the day.

When he found himself face to face with a grinning Fitz, he put his dagger away. “For God’s blood, you could have gotten yourself stuck like a roast pig.”

Fitz swayed back and forth on his feet as he held in his laughter. “That could have been a knife in your back rather than my boot on the barrel.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Jamie had me run a small errand, and I was surprised to find you sitting here, staring into nothing with a huge grin on your face.” He pulled out his pipe and lit it. After a few puffs, he gave Beckworth an appraising look. “You weren’t thinking of anyone special, were you?”

Beckworth glanced away. “So, where’s this secret lookout you found?”

He caught Fitz’s grin, but the first mate let him off the hook and pointed toward the ship. “Let’s grab Lando, and we’ll show you.”

Lando hunched on a crate a few feet from the Daphne ’s gangway.

He was carving a piece of wood and only glanced up when the two men stopped in front of him.

He blew the wood chips away and rubbed his thumb over the piece before stuffing it in his pocket.

Beckworth couldn’t be sure, but he thought it might be some type of bird.

“Hello, little man. That was quite the party last night.”

Beckworth ignored Lando’s nickname for him, which was meant to get a rise out of him, and grinned instead. “If I remember correctly, didn’t I see you dancing with several lovely lasses?”

It was difficult to tell with Lando’s darker skin, but Beckworth was pretty sure there was a slight blush to his cheeks.

Fitz snorted, but Lando didn’t take Beckworth’s bait, either. He puffed out his chest. “I can’t help my charm with the ladies.”

Beckworth shook his head and slapped the big man on the back. “So, Fitz is rubbing off on you.”

Lando scowled, but Fitz nodded and puffed on his pipe as they left the docks. “When it comes to the lasses, it only seems right to share my good fortune with my friends.”

They laughed and continued to share barbs for several blocks until Fitz stopped next to a warehouse.

Beckworth gave the building a long look before turning to view the other buildings. “This doesn’t look like anything special. I expected something smaller and dodgier.”

“Wait until you see the rooms upstairs.” Fitz led them down an alley that ran alongside the building to a door. A small wooden wedge kept it open.

“Are you the one who unlocked the door?” Beckworth asked.

“Aye. There are a few items stored in here, but it hasn’t seen any activity for some time.” Fitz entered, and Beckworth shut the door behind them.

The warehouse was smaller than most—long and narrow.

Light from the front windows was sufficient to expose the entire interior.

Crates and barrels, layered with a fair amount of dust, had been lined up against the far wall, but most of the available space was empty.

A set of stairs at the far end led to a landing and a row of rooms that ran the width of the building.

Fitz wasted no time as he climbed the stairs, and as they approached the upper floor, Beckworth counted the number of doors, which were four in all. Fitz opened the second door from the stairs, peered in, then waved for them to follow.

A row of dirt-streaked windows spread across the back of the room, starting at eye level. There was a single desk with a handful of files and papers spread across it, a single lantern, and a thick layer of dust covering everything.

Fitz stood next to the only chair in the room, which had been positioned by the window, and pointed down.

Beckworth and Lando stood on either side of him.

The street was busier than the one the warehouse faced, and the businesses were open.

All except one, which sat between a cobbler and a tobacco store.

In one way, it stood out because, like the warehouse, it was narrower than the other shops on the street and had no front windows.

It had the feeling of a dark pub, but there was no signage that he could see.

Before Fitz could tell them more, a bruiser of a man who’d been walking closely behind two other men suddenly split from them and slipped inside the building. When several minutes passed and he didn’t reappear, Beckworth assumed this must be the private club the men had mentioned at Hensley’s.

“Leclair has been seen entering this establishment twice since we’ve been watching.” Fitz took a puff of his pipe. “He stays a couple of hours before returning to his ship.”

“How do we know if this is truly an exclusive club?” Beckworth asked.

Lando chuckled. “Lane says he tried going in. The front part of the building, which is only about ten feet deep, has a wall that blocks off the back portion of the building with only a single door for access. Lane picked up some conversation beyond the door, but not loud enough to understand anything. From what he said, a rather unfriendly man, who had a slight French accent, met him at the door, and apparently, knew straight away that Lane shouldn’t be there. ”

“Lane sensed the man was only going to ask him to leave once before using force.” Fitz tapped on the window, drawing everyone’s attention back to the building.

Another man entered the establishment.

Fitz snuffed out his pipe and tucked it in a pocket. “This appears to be a standard time for some of the members to meet.”

Beckworth stared at the door of the club. “How does anyone know to come to this place?”

“We’ve been monitoring where they go,” Fitz said. “Some go to their homes, some to their places of work, but most return to a pub close to the docks.”

“The same pub?” Lando asked.

Fitz nodded and grinned. “The same one.”

The three continued to watch as two other men, each arriving separately, entered the building. No one came out.

Beckworth was satisfied with what he’d seen. “Now all we need is a Frenchman.”

B eckworth followed Fitz and Lando back to the ship in search of Jamie, only to discover he’d left an hour earlier to meet with Hensley.

“That should save us time having to update them separately.” Beckworth would need Hensley’s support for his plan, but he also wanted Jamie’s agreement to help. It might be easier to convince them while the two were together.

Fitz stepped away from them. “You don’t need me at Hensley’s. My time is better spent at the pub. I need to get a feel for the atmosphere and whatnot.” He pulled out his pipe and lit it before strolling up the dock toward town.

Beckworth retrieved his horse from the stables and tossed the stableboy a coin.

Lando hitched a ride on a wagon departing for town, whose driver was willing to drop him off close to Hensley’s manor.

Since Lando would be arriving after him, Beckworth stopped at a store along the way that he hadn’t frequented for some time.

After fifteen minutes, he stepped out of the shop, tucked a package in his jacket, and rode to Hensley’s with a grin.

When he entered Hensley’s study, Lando had just arrived, and once again, Mary had the footmen deliver food to the office. While they ate and before getting down to their business, Hensley filled them in on news from Inspector Littlefield regarding the jewelry thefts.

“I’m afraid he’s had little evidence to work with and hasn’t found a connection between the thefts other than they happened at a nobleman’s party.

” Hensley sat back and picked at his food, a sign he wasn’t happy with his own report.

“He’s spoken with numerous witnesses, but, at this time, with no further leads, he’s temporarily closing the investigation.

He’ll reconsider opening the case again if other thefts are reported. ”

Beckworth wasn’t too surprised. He’d never met the inspector, but he’d heard the gossip.

The man was good at his job but seemed to have a chip on his shoulder whenever dealing with the aristocrats.

“I find it interesting that the inspector wasn’t able to uncover a single connection with the myriad people he’d spoken to, while Stella, on the other hand, found a connection by attending one garden party. ”

Hensley’s eyes narrowed as Jamie and Lando chuckled and shook their heads. No one was overly surprised.