| |
FREDDIE, EVANGELINE, and the two Arkana agents rode in tense silence as Jack drove their carriage toward the rendezvous point. He stopped at the intersection of Rush and Hubbard Streets. Climbing down from the coach box, he opened the carriage door and asked, “Is this close enough, Miss Engie?”
“Yes, Jack. It wouldn’t do to announce to our foes that the cavalry has arrived. We’ll walk from here.” Evangeline stepped down to the sidewalk, followed closely by her associates.
Turning to the Arkana agents, she whispered, “Follow Rush Street for another block and then directly across the bridge. You’ll see stairs on the left leading down to the quay. Freddie and I will take up a position opposite yours on this side of the river. Keep to the shadows.”
“It goes without saying,” Freddie added. “If you need help, call and we’ll come running.”
“You should do likewise,” Mrs. Featherstone told her allies.
Merriweather consulted his pocket watch. “The exchange is scheduled to take place in fifteen minutes. We ought to hasten into position.”
“Good luck!” Evangeline gave the agents a hopeful smile and watched them scurry down the street.
“Best to give them a head start,” Freddie advised. “We don’t all want to arrive at the bridge at the same time.”
The couple waited until the agents were a block ahead of them before heading for their own assigned spot. Making as little noise as possible, they climbed down the stairs that led to the docking area. Evangeline surveyed the river. Some small craft were tied up at regular intervals on either side. Their lights were out, indicating either that no one was aboard or that the occupants had retired for the night. Vagrants were known to sleep on the embankment, but none could be seen.
As if reading her thoughts, Freddie said, “No bums out tonight. The cops did a sweep a few weeks back to roust them out of the riverfront area. Lucky for us, they haven’t come back yet.”
“What time is it?” Evangeline whispered.
“Five minutes to one,” the reporter replied after checking his watch.
The two concealed themselves in the shadows on the quay directly beneath the bridge and waited.
Evangeline couldn’t detect the Arkana agents on the opposite bank. She considered this a good sign since their foes would be unlikely to spy them either.
Two minutes later, she noticed movement across the river. Tugging Freddie’s coat sleeve, she whispered, I think we’re on the wrong side.”
They kept still to observe. Two shadowy figures were walking down the embankment from the direction of the lake. One carried a Gladstone bag and the other a cane. They were still several yards away from the bridge itself when another figure scurried down the stairs toward them. He was carrying a black satchel. Presumably, it contained the Egyptian statue.
When the two pedestrians noticed the newcomer, they advanced toward him.
“Stop, you!” A voice commanded from the shadows beneath the bridge. It was Mrs. Featherstone.
The man with the Gladstone bag, presumably the courier, emitted a string of curses in German and began to back away.
The other, obviously the bodyguard, stepped forward to block pursuit.
Mrs. Featherstone had succeeded in grabbing the Vangilder middleman by the wrist and was attempting to wrest the satchel from his hand.
As the two struggled, Merriweather stepped toward the bodyguard and raised his fists. “Come, sir. Shall we settle this like gentlemen?”
“Oh, not fisticuffs again,” Freddie moaned as he watched from the opposite bank.
Merriweather’s adversary laughed out loud, evidently noticing that he was a head taller than his challenger and outweighed him by forty pounds.
Seeing the bodyguard’s reaction, the Arkana agent thought better of his initial proposal and drew a switchblade out of his pocket.
By this time, the middleman had squirmed out of Mrs. Featherstone’s grasp, still clutching his bag, and was running up the stairs.
Before pursuing him, the lady agent turned to her colleague. “Do you require my assistance, sir?”
Merriweather kept his attention focused on the bodyguard. “Thank you, madame, but I have matters well in hand.”
“As you wish but take this. You may need it.” She tossed her walking stick on the ground near Merriweather’s feet. Then, she hiked her skirts and ran up the stairs after the middleman.
Merriweather brandished his knife with full confidence that he had the advantage. His sense of accomplishment was short-lived when he saw the bodyguard withdraw a sword from his cane and flourish it in the air menacingly. The Arkana agent retreated a few paces and dove down to retrieve Mrs. Featherstone’s walking stick. Holding the switchblade in his right hand, he used the stick to fend off his opponent’s attack with the left.
“We’d better get over there before somebody on our side gets hurt,” Freddie suggested worriedly.
“Agreed.” Evangeline sprang out of the shadows.
The two detectives scrambled to the top of the bridge and ran across it at full tilt. They could see Mrs. Featherstone half a block away in hot pursuit of her quarry.
“I pity that fellow if she catches up and coshes him over the head,” Evangeline said.
She and Freddie pelted down the stairs to the quay where Merriweather was still attempting to defend himself against the bodyguard’s relentless onslaught.
Freddie drew his pistol. “Stop, or I’ll shoot!” he commanded.
The bodyguard paused in surprise when he belatedly realized that reinforcements had arrived.
Merriweather, briefly distracted, glanced behind him toward the sound.
Seizing the interruption as an opportunity, the bodyguard slashed Merriweather in the upper arm and took to his heels.
The Arkana agent crumpled to the pavement. “Oh, dear,” he said.
Evangeline swooped down to catch him while Freddie ran off after the bodyguard. The sound of a steamer powering up its engine could be heard farther down the quay.
The lady detective tried to staunch the blood now soaking Merriweather’s coat sleeve. “I’m afraid this is a deep cut. It will require stitches,” she said.
Mrs. Featherstone returned a few minutes later. “What’s happened here?” she cried.
“I let my guard down at the wrong moment,” her associate admitted.
Freddie returned shortly afterward, out of breath. “They got away,” he panted. “By boat. At top speed. They must be out in the lake by now. There’s no telling where they’ll head from there.”
“We have bigger problems,” Evangeline informed him succinctly. Drawing a fresh handkerchief out of her pocket, she tied it around Merriweather’s bicep.
Mrs. Featherstone did the same with a kerchief of her own. “Can you stand?” she asked her associate.
“I believe so,” came the hesitant reply.
“Freddie, run and fetch Jack with the carriage,” Evangeline instructed. “If we can get Mr. Merriweather up the stairs, we can take him to a doctor.”
“The nearest hospital is miles off,” the reporter objected.
“Not to a hospital. Dr. Doyle is closer.”
“Doyle?” Freddie asked incredulously. “This is a bit out of his line.”
“I’m sure he’s had basic medical training,” Evangeline retorted. “And he’s discreet. Now go!”
Without another word, Freddie flew up the stairs and across the bridge.
Evangeline and Mrs. Featherstone propped Merriweather up between them. They guided him up the stairs slowly, one step at a time. It took several minutes to complete the operation. By the time they reached the sidewalk level, Jack had arrived with the coach.
Freddie and Jack took charge of loading Merriweather inside as gently as they could.
Evangeline looked around nervously. “It’s a wonder that no police have descended on us, given all the noise we’ve made. We need to get away from here as quickly as possible.”
“I heartily concur,” Mrs. Featherstone whispered. She glanced tensely at her associate.
Once everyone was seated in the carriage, Jack set the horse to moving at a brisk trot.
“We’ll be at the doctor’s office in no time,” Evangeline informed the injured man.
Merriweather held the handkerchiefs pressed tightly against the wound, but his face had gone pale from shock and blood loss. Apparently noting Mrs. Featherstone’s worried air, the Arkana agent tried to lighten her mood. “At least this time, madame, it wasn’t scimitars.”