“So this is where you’ve been running off to.” Colin looked around the drafty cellar—at the arches on the ceiling and the passageways that branched off, going who knew where. He didn’t seem at all concerned to have been led through a secret passageway and to a secret room with a very secret, very unconscious man on the floor. If anything, he only seemed upset that he hadn’t been invited to the party sooner.
“So who’s the almost dead guy?”
“Who do you think?” Sadie said, and Colin’s eyes got wide.
“No way! You’re putting me on.”
“Colin, Violet, meet Gabriel Winterborne,” April said.
“Is he sleeping?” Violet asked, looking up at Tim, who hadn’t wanted to bring her down but had been even more adamant about not leaving her alone.
“Yeah, Vi.” He tugged her closer. “He’s kind of sick, but we’re gonna make him better.”
“How?” Sadie asked, because, really, that was the only thing that mattered.
Colin leaned over Gabriel’s unconscious form, trying to get a better look. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Got stabbed with a sword, hit in the head, and thrown in the ocean,” April said simply.
“That’ll do it.” Colin didn’t bat an eye. “Why’s he down here?”
April could feel Tim’s gaze fall on her. Sadie’s too. And they weren’t wrong. The longer Gabriel was unconscious, the thinner the ice they were all standing on became, and the truth was, it’s one thing to tell a man you’re willing to let him die. It’s another to do it.
“He’s hiding. We’re hiding him. But he needs medicine, and we don’t have any, so . . .” April trailed off, utterly unsure what came next.
She was expecting anything but the sight of Colin’s shrug and the mumbled words, “I can get you medicine.”
“You can?” Sadie asked, and Colin looked insulted.
“Love, have we met?”
“Dr. Andrews? Smithers here, from Winterborne House. I believe we met at the hospital gala last—Yes, of course, doctor. So nice to hear from you as well.” The accent was smooth and cultured, rich and pure upper crust. The voice, on the other hand . . .
“My voice? Yes.” Colin coughed a little too loudly in April’s opinion, but when the voice came again it was just right.
“I believe I’ve caught a bit of a bug. We’ve recently begun taking in . . . orphans, you see,” he said as if it were a dirty word befitting even dirtier children. “Yes. I shudder to think what they might be bringing with them. I tell Ms. Nelson they need a good delousing when they get here, but no one listens to me.”
Sadie threw out her hands in the universal signal for isn’t that a little much? but Colin waved her away.
“Good of you to make time, my man, but I don’t think there’s any need to come in. I’ve had this before, and my London physician knew just what to give me. An antibiotic.” He looked down at the name of the drug that Sadie had researched and read it off. “Yeah. That’d be just the thing, you know. Just the thing.” He paused for a long time, and when he spoke again, his voice sounded even huffier. Almost like a warning. “Excellent. Tell me, is there a pharmacy that delivers?”
And that was all it took. Just one eleven-year-old conman with a wider variety of British accents than anyone had realized, a “borrowed” credit card, and a plan to distract Smithers as soon as the delivery van drew up to the house.
“Isn’t that illegal?” Sadie asked.
“Yup,” Colin said.
“Then how did you know he’d go for it?” April asked, and Colin looked at her like she might be the most naive girl in the world.
“Winterborne House means money. Money means it’s just a phone call away.”
“You mean it like medicine?” April asked.
Colin shook his head. “It like anything.”
April had stolen a lot of things in her twelve years: food from locked pantries, a pair of shoes from the lost and found, once even a puppy for a whole afternoon because it was cold outside and no one seemed to care how much the poor thing kept shivering.
But listening to Colin, April wondered for the first time if it might be possible to steal another life.
Sadie calculated the dose, and then they changed Mr. Winterborne’s bandages and brought down some fresh blankets.
And then they waited.