Flynt was surprised to see Bess waiting for him along with Jack in the White Lion. She sipped at an ale while he sat at her side with his arm around her shoulders in a proprietorial manner. Whether unconsciously or not, the lad was sending a signal to any cull who might fancy a tupping but Flynt knew it would avail him nought. Edgeworth Bess was fiercely independent and if she saw a means of turning a midday coin in this tavern then she would cast off that arm and do so. The purse Jack had been given was sufficient to buy the young woman’s favours many times over, but his loyalty to Flynt was stronger than his priapic urges so said sum would have been passed to her in order to smooth her co-operation. So there they sat, Bess with her ale and Jack holding her as close as he could, without doubt enjoying the physical contact while also giving any randy customers that look of warning. Not that Jack could do much if that cull turned belligerent, for he was of slight build and not experienced in the art of self-defence. Flynt made a mental note to teach him some rudimentary moves, as a ready smile and a breezy nature were of limited defence in these streets. Sometimes, only violence was the answer.
Bess’s disdain towards being in Flynt’s company again was clear. Being a lass who preferred to get right to the point for time was coin, it was she who spoke first. ‘Why’s you looking for Sal?’
Flynt suppressed his own smile as he sat down. Jack knew him well and had chosen a table that afforded an uninterrupted view of the tavern and its doorways. The vacant chair was against a wall and Flynt took it.
‘Nice to see you again, too, Bess,’ he said, his tone amiable. ‘I trust you are well?’
A twitchy sneer plucked at her left nostril. Their shared history ensured that she saw through his attempt at affability. ‘Don’t be giving me none of that, Jonas Flynt. I knows you, don’t forget, and if you is looking for her then it ain’t good for that girl’s health. So I asks you again, why’s you looking for Sal?’
‘I take it you are acquainted with the lady?’
‘I is acquainted, yes. And I ain’t about to tell you her whereabouts until I knows exactly why you wants to know.’
Jack chimed in. ‘Bess, Mr Flynt don’t mean her no harm, does you, Mr Flynt?’
‘I do not,’ Flynt assured her. ‘You have my word upon that.’
Bess was unimpressed by his word and remained suspicious as to his motives. ‘Then what’s your interest? You ain’t looking for some business, because she ain’t your type. We all knows in which direction your lusts take you, and it ain’t girls like Sal, no matter how choosy she be about her culls. Us street girls ain’t what you want. You likes them what smell sweet and sleep in feather beds. So, before I decide whether to tells you anything at all further, answer my question, Jonas high and bloody mighty Flynt, or I walks out of here and back to my bed, what is stuffed with straw, just so’s you know.’ She gave Jack a withering look. ‘Alone.’
Jack’s face fell slightly and Flynt gave him a sympathetic shrug. ‘If you know Sal then you will know that she is in hiding. I wish to help her.’
‘How do I know she ain’t in hiding from you?’
‘That’s another thing on which you will have to take my word.’
A puff of her cheeks showed what she thought of that. ‘Then if it ain’t you she hides from, then who is it?’
‘Bess, the less you know the better. Just be aware that the men hunting her are very dangerous indeed and I need to get to her before they do.’
She was not to be fobbed off. ‘That’s easy to say. So who is they then, these dangerous men?’
Flynt briefly considered obfuscation but decided against it. She needed to understand the seriousness of the situation. ‘You have heard of Romulus and Remus Trask?’
Even in the dim light of the tavern he could see the tension gripping her expression. When she spoke again, her previous belligerence had been stifled. ‘Why does they want her?’
‘She has information they want.’
‘About what exact?’
Flynt kept his voice gentle. ‘Bess, believe me when I tell you it is best you do not know. Now, please tell me where she is so I can fetch her.’
‘And take her where?’
Flynt had already decided on that course of action. ‘Her brother. He seems a good man and I believe he can protect her.’
That seemed to satisfy her somewhat, but having recovered from news that the Trask brothers were on her friend’s trail, Bess’s customary antagonism began to creep in once again. ‘But not before you gets to know what you wants to know from her, is I right?’
‘Whether she tells me or not, I will help her.’
‘You gives your word on that, too, I’ll wager.’
Another slight sneer coated her words but Flynt could not blame her for her lack of trust. Bess had suffered at the hands of men, and their word meant nothing to her.
‘You can trust Mr Flynt, Bess,’ said Jack, his voice hardening. ‘And you knows that, too, girl.’
Bess gave the lad a long look, reached out for her tankard and swallowed back a mouthful of ale, as she made a study of Flynt. ‘I ain’t going to tell you where she is.’ She raised her voice slightly when she saw Flynt about to debate the issue. ‘But here’s what I will do. I’ll go see her, right now, and I will has me a talk with her and if she says she will see you, then so be it.’
Flynt recognised that it was the best he could expect. ‘Thank you, Bess.’
‘Don’t be thanking me, Jonas Flynt, for I don’t wants it, not from you. Jack says I can trust you but I ain’t so sure. You is a rum one and there ain’t no mistake about that.’
Flynt didn’t even try to object. He had been told that before.
Bess wasn’t done, however. ‘You say the Trasks is after her and that may be true. They is dangerous bastards, and that’s for certain, but these here streets is full of dangerous men, and some of them sit in taverns in the middle of the day and pretend to be on the side of the angels. You is a gaming cove so let us put our cards on the table. We don’t like each other, you and me…’
‘I don’t dislike you, Bess.’
‘Well, I dislikes you. There’s something off-kilter about you and I can’t put my finger on it. You has hushed people, we all knows it, and though it may be true that most of those you snuff deserve what they gets, it’s also true that you is bad luck for anyone around you. Jack here thinks you is like Moses down from the mountain and your every word is holy writ…’
Jack was uncomfortable with the direction in which this exchange was travelling. ‘Bess, there ain’t no need to be…’
She held up a hand to silence him. ‘That’s the way of it, Jack, and I sees it plain. This man has a power over you that will only be ended with the death of one of you or the other.’ She looked back at Flynt and rose to her feet. ‘And I prays that it is you, Jonas Flynt.’
Flynt understood that no response was required, even if he had one to make, so remained silent as she gazed upon him for a few moments before turning away from the tables and heading for the door. As she passed another table, a man’s hand reached out to grip her arm but she slapped it away angrily and continued on her path. She was either not in the mood after her angry diatribe against him or she recognised that time was of the essence.
‘Give her a moment, Jack, and follow her.’
The boy looked horrified. ‘She won’t like that, Mr Flynt.’
Guilt pierced Flynt’s chest but he kept his voice flat. ‘I don’t care.’
Jack watched the young woman as she stepped into the sunlight beyond the tavern door. ‘If she catches me…’
‘Don’t get caught then.’ The boy’s fear of angering the woman was plain. ‘Jack, we have little time and I have no guarantee that Bess will bring me the result I need. You are skilled at making yourself invisible, so follow her and tell me where she goes.’
Though still doubtful, Jack rose and took a step from the table, then looked back. ‘She don’t mean it, Mr Flynt. What she said.’
‘She meant it, lad.’
‘She is wrong then.’
The girl’s words bounced around his memory and he gave Jack a small, sad smile. ‘No, lad, she’s not.’