28

Masilda completed her ministration and then left Flynt alone, telling him she had work to do, and some time later Gabriel reappeared.

‘That is the quietest boy I have ever met. Didn’t say a word as we walked around the farmyard. Even I found it difficult to keep up the one-sided conversation and I am seldom lost for something to say, as you know, old friend.’

Being called old friend made Flynt frown inwardly but he let it pass. ‘He misses his father. Boys need their fathers.’

As he had lain in solitude, the conversation with Masilda had turned his mind to his own life, his loves, his failures. And a young boy only a few years senior to Will, perhaps still mourning the loss of the man who had raised him, unaware that his real father lived.

‘I was never certain who my father was,’ Gabriel said, ‘so I find it difficult to miss him.’

‘Why did you tell him you were raised on a farm?’

Gabriel laughed. ‘I was born in the gutter, you know that well, Jonas, mother a whore, father unknown, but it seemed advantageous to claim some kind of common ground with the lad. Unfortunately, I think he soon divined my fabrication when I could not tell a goose from a gander.’

‘He corrected you? He spoke?’

‘By look and incline of the head only he relayed his feelings.’ He dropped into his previous position against the beam. ‘Did you convince the lady it was advisable to vacate this place?’

‘The lady was not for convincing.’

Gabriel set his head against the wood and closed his eyes. ‘I sensed she wouldn’t be. Fine-looking woman but I believe her to be most tenacious in her convictions.’

‘We can’t let them take her land, Gabriel. They will murder her in order to obtain it.’

Gabriel’s eyes opened again and he gave Flynt a long, cool look. ‘I have gone along with you thus far because you needed rest. But this is not our fight, Jonas. We should have galloped at speed back to London. We are rogues, you and I, and have little time for crusades.’

‘Even rogues have occasion to stand up for what is right.’

That brought a short but bitter laugh. ‘That was ever your weakness, Jonas. A damsel in distress, the oppressed to be defended.’ Gabriel waved an accusatory finger in his direction. ‘There is a streak of altruism running through you that can be most disconcerting in a rogue; a sense of justice, of honour, that’s forever in conflict with your sense of larceny. Such attributes make for uneasy bedfellows and that explains your temperament, always at odds with yourself. Decide which you are, sinner or saint, Jonas, and you’ll be a happier man for it. There’s no profit in such lack of equanimity.’

‘And which are you, Gabriel? Saint or sinner?’

The smile he returned was mischievous. ‘You know the answer to that, my friend. I sin most enthusiastically.’

Flynt delayed asking his next question, but he knew it had to posed sooner or later. ‘In your travels have you heard of the one they call the Wraith?’

Gabriel betrayed no surprise at hearing the name, nor displayed any outward unease. ‘I have heard it whispered there is a killer of men who rejoices in such an alias. Why do you ask?’

Flynt watched him carefully. ‘It is rumoured that he’s in London for the first time.’

Gabriel’s tone was conversational. ‘Let me preface this by saying that I believe he is some kind of phantasm dreamed up to explain a multitude of sins, many different swords for hire amalgamated into one, but if he does exist then, if the stories be true, some poor soul is not long for this earth, for the legend tells us that he is devilish efficient in the spilling of claret.’

‘It would appear that the poor soul in question is me.’

Gabriel’s gaze was as even as his voice. ‘You have a penchant for irritating people you really shouldn’t, Jonas, but my understanding is this Wraith fellow’s services do not come cheap. Who harbours such an abundance of hatred for you that they’d lay out a small fortune?’

Flynt had no wish to enter into an explanation of his relationship with James Moncrieff. There might have been a day when he would have revealed that facet of his family history to Gabriel, but it was not this one. ‘As you say, I irritate people I shouldn’t, and the list is long. Have you heard a whisper as to who the Wraith may be?’

Gabriel leaned over to the side and propped himself up on his forearm. ‘Assuming he exists, he ensures his true identity is well hid and keeps himself to the shadows, which would be understandable given his occupation. It’s always possible that I’ve met him, or at least one of the men whose work has been attributed to him, without even being aware it was he. I’ve often thought that if our paths ever did cross – and let me say I hope that day never comes – that I would be disappointed.’

‘In what manner disappointed?’

Gabriel smiled. ‘Well, the reputation is so fearsome that the mind conjures up an image of someone of equal ferocity, but it’s more likely that he would be an unremarkable man, perhaps even insipid in appearance. After all, how better to walk unnoticed than to be a man who nobody notices?’ A thought struck him. ‘Is this why you exited the city so swiftly, Jonas? Has this intimation that this Wraith has you in his sights got you afeared?’

‘I came to fetch Templeton.’

And a fine job you did of that, he told himself.

‘Well, let me say that if you were in any way intimidated by the prospect, I couldn’t blame you, my friend,’ Gabriel continued. ‘This fellow would be a powerful nemesis to have on your trail and right glad I am to be here to guard your flank.’ He paused, then emphasised, ‘If he exists, of course.’

Flynt had studied Gabriel intently as he spoke but failed to detect any sign of equivocation. ‘Why did you follow me north, Gabriel? You spoke of profit and there is none here for you.’

Gabriel’s laugh seemed unforced. ‘That’s for damn sure.’

‘Then why come?’

The laugh died as Gabriel realised there was more behind Flynt’s questioning. ‘I told you, you are my friend and I do not have many.’ He straightened again. ‘Now, perhaps you should tell me what spawns this interrogatory?’

The conversation had been heading this way from the beginning, Flynt realised. The question was going to have to be asked. He struggled to pull himself upright, labouring to maintain a casualness to his movements and wishing he had his cane to assist him, but that remained in Gallowmire’s possession.

‘I will be straight with you, Gabriel,’ he said.

‘I wish you would, because I detect a shadow behind your words.’

Flynt regarded him steadily, ready to reach for the pistols resting on top of his coat at his side. ‘Are you the Wraith?’

A silence sprung up between them that was almost corporeal. He fathomed nothing from Gabriel’s eyes as they regarded each other across the barn, but a tension was building. Flynt allowed his right hand to edge slightly closer to the pistols.

Then amusement twinkled in Gabriel’s eyes and laughter barked from his throat. ‘Good God, Jonas? You think I am he?’ He set his head back and laughed again. ‘How many opportunities have I had to kill you since we met again? If I was this individual you would be cold and I would have taken my fee and be off to the next kill.’

Gabriel had vocalised thoughts that had already occurred to Flynt, but there was another aspect to the Wraith’s method of operation that had to be raised. ‘I am informed he likes to play with his victims first, like a cat does its prey, and he cannot countenance any rivalry. Simms made an attempt in that stable and someone cut his throat.’

Gabriel’s face betrayed nothing.

‘Romulus Trask was also murdered in similar fashion, as you recall,’ Flynt added.

‘And you will recall I heard something in that building, so perhaps whoever despatched this Simms fellow also sent poor Romulus into the void, but in the name of heaven, you cannot seriously believe that I would wish you harm? We have history, Jonas. I have saved your life more than once and you have done similar for me. And to think I am this Wraith of the imagination is ludicrous. I’d be insulted if it wasn’t so damnable amusing.’

Gabriel was very convincing and Flynt did feel a little ridiculous now that he had given voice to his suspicion. But there was one other thing that had coloured his mind regarding his old friend, and now that he had stepped upon this path he felt he should continue.

‘Why were you asking Lemuel Gribble about Templeton?’

‘I told you, to discover where you had gone.’

‘No, someone answering your description inquired about him before you and I renewed our acquaintance.’

That made Gabriel’s smile slip a little and in that moment Flynt knew for certain it had been he. Nevertheless, Gabriel made a wan attempt at deflection. ‘Men of my appearance are relatively commonplace.’

‘Relatively,’ Flynt repeated, then waited. Gabriel, his levity replaced by something more sombre, pushed himself to his feet, turned away and stretched, his arms spread, his head rotating on his neck to ease away the kinks. Like Flynt’s own change of position, it was clearly only a means of playing for time while he considered his reply. He dropped his arms and turned back to face Flynt.

‘I assume a denial would not be accepted?’

‘It was you, Gabriel. I would now know why you were looking for him.’

Gabriel exhaled deeply and stepped to the open doorway. He placed one hand on the door and stared out onto the yard for a moment, then raised his face to catch the sun, the dust motes flirting with his features like fairy lovers. Flynt kept his silence, knowing that Gabriel would speak when he was ready.

‘Our meeting in that tavern was not coincidental,’ Gabriel said eventually, his voice low.

‘I suspected not.’

Gabriel probed at something in the dirt with the toe of his boot. ‘I’d been in London for some little time previous and had sought you out, that much is true. But I was not in pursuit of a lady.’

‘What were you doing?’

Whatever it was at which he worried with his foot was proving stubbornly impossible to move. ‘I was working.’

‘Doing what? Knowing you, nothing legal.’

A slight laugh then. ‘Believe it or not, it was on the side of the angels. For once.’ He stopped his excavation and reconsidered his words. ‘At least, I think it was. With this particular gentleman sometimes it is hard to tell the difference.’

A suspicion rose in Flynt’s mind for, scant though it was, this description of the work and the employer seemed very familiar. However, he maintained his silence.

Gabriel gave him a sideways glance. ‘I believe you know him. Colonel Nathaniel Charters.’

‘I served with him,’ Flynt confirmed, his words cautious.

‘You saved his life, as I recall. Hauled him from the mud of Malplaquet, you once told me, minus an arm.’

‘The arm he still retained, but not for long,’ Flynt corrected. ‘It was an army surgeon who relieved him of it.’

‘Aye, I remember now. But I suspect there is a further connection, eh, Jonas?’ Flynt remained tight-lipped and Gabriel smiled. ‘Ah yes, we don’t discuss the Company of Rogues, do we? Not even with old friends. And old Nathaniel ensures that one doesn’t know another. But there’s no need for subterfuge between us, Jonas. Not now.’

Flynt still could not bring himself to confirm his connection to the Company and Charters, but neither could he deny it. ‘What service did you perform for him?’

Gabriel did not answer directly and for a second his attention seemed to be refocused on the work with his foot. ‘I grew weary of life away from the city, Jonas. I’m a London lad, born and bred, and whenever I am away I long to return. But I wish to God I had stayed away, for no sooner had I given up my nomadic existence around England, and even into your homeland, than Charters pounced upon me. By God, he seems at times to be omniscient, does he not?’

Flynt nodded, for Charters’ intelligence network stretched into every stratum of London life. ‘What service did you perform, Gabriel?’

Gabriel hesitated again. ‘It was a watching brief.’

Flynt had already guessed the direction of this conversation but still he asked, ‘Upon whom?’

Gabriel took a breath before saying, ‘Christopher Templeton.’

‘And you lost him?’

Gabriel resumed digging at the dirt. ‘There were others tasked with following him, protecting him if need be, but it was on my watch that he slipped away.’

‘How did he engineer that?’

For the first time in Flynt’s recollection, Gabriel’s smile was bashful. ‘I regret I fell asleep on the job. I’d spent a particularly energetic afternoon with a lady of my acquaintance whose husband is in the west country on business and, well, I’m not as young as I once was and my satiation had sapped me of my usual vigour. If you had told me when we were working together that I could find myself in the arms of Morpheus while seated on a hard wooden bench and sipping ale in a tavern, I would have scoffed, but that was the way of it. There was a woman singing nearby, too, and her notes were as flat as paper, so sleeping through that was difficult but I managed it, by God.’

‘Was this in the Cheddar Cheese?’

‘Aye, Templeton was upstairs dancing the blanket hornpipe with the Duck girl. He slipped away while I slept.’

‘Do you think he knew you were on his tail?’

‘At the time I thought that it was mere circumstance, but given he fled immediate after, and his inamorata also, I would hazard that he had become aware.’

‘You were working solo?’

‘I believe that to be the case. I had suggested to Charters that this was a two-man job but, as I have already noted, he guards the identities of his agents as a suspicious father does his daughter’s virtue. No two of us know the other and I am not in the city long enough to garner apprentices such as your lad Sheppard. Anyway, I was overly confident that Templeton had no notion that he had watchers. Such arrogance, like pride, comes before a fall, eh?’

That Gabriel was convinced Flynt was one of the Company was clear, so he saw no reason to deny it. ‘Charters was displeased, I assume.’

‘Incandescent, I believe would be the word. He placed great stock on what Templeton could reveal regarding the Fellowship, so in an attempt to retrieve my pride from the mire into which it had become embroiled I set out to track him down.’

‘Did Charters know of this?’

‘I did this of my own volition, for despite his hold over me I yet have free will. During my days of following him I knew that, in addition to his frequent enjoyment of sexual congress with the Duck girl, he was also friendly with the lawyer Gribble.’

‘I believe it was more than mere lust. He loved her, truly.’

Gabriel shrugged that away, his views on the existence of love not the point of the conversation. ‘Nevertheless, I made inquiry of Gribble but the man told me nothing. I sensed he knew far more than he said and so kept a close eye on him. That was when I saw you, Jonas, and followed you to the studio of the fencing master. I knew you then to be on the same trail as I, so resolved it would profit us both if I contrived that meeting in the tavern.’

‘How did you know that I didn’t mean Templeton ill, that I didn’t work for the Fellowship?’

Gabriel gave him a smirk. ‘I know you, Jonas. You would never ally yourself with such a body. It wasn’t until later, on piecing together some things you said, that I realised you and I were, in fact, unwitting colleagues once again.’

‘Does Charters know you have followed me?’

‘It was he who sent me. I didn’t interrogate Gribble, for he was dead in the street before I could do so. I’m sorry for lying to you, but I believe now there should be no secrets between us. When the good colonel heard of his death he decided it was best to break his own rule and have me assist you.’

‘So he knows of our past association?’

Gabriel laughed. ‘What think you? I told you, the man is omniscient.’

Flynt felt some relief as he listened to Gabriel’s explanation, for he had been uncomfortable in suspecting him. ‘And what is it he holds over you to ensure you do his bidding?’

Gabriel again grew sheepish, obviously ashamed. ‘Ah, are you familiar with Mr Isaac Watts’ Divine Songs for Children?’ When Flynt shook his head, he continued, ‘Of course, you were never one for matters of faith, were you? There is a line which reads “and how does the little busy bee improve each shining hour”. God knows that I have little of which to be proud in my life, including letting Templeton slip through my fingers, but the incident that Charters uses against me is far from my shining hour.’

‘What did you do, Gabriel?’

Gabriel seemed reluctant to discuss it but would know that he had to. ‘It was a high toby lay I performed solo a few years ago, on the heath of Hampstead. A private coach, a damned duchess and her young coxcomb of a fancy piece who decided to display his manhood by coming at me with a sword. I should have had you at my side, Jonas, for you were always one to temper my more violent tendencies.’

Flynt felt his flesh prickle. ‘What did you do?’

‘I didn’t put a ball in him but I did beat him down with the butt of my pistol. Damn me if the fellow’s skull didn’t cave. He lived but it was a close-run thing, I believe. Anyway, Charters tells me that I could be identified by the woman, and all it would take would be for me to be paraded before her, and the theft of her jewels alone would set me upon the Tyburn trail, never mind the assault on the young buck.’

Flynt was unsure how he felt on hearing this. He should be furious but he merely wanted to laugh. That Charters had used the same robbery to blackmail both himself and Gabriel into working for his Company of Rogues was an astonishing display of hubris. He actually felt like applauding it.

Gabriel moved away from the door. ‘So, how did that devil Charters inveigle you into the ranks? Or are you motivated by patriotism?’

Finally, the laugh that had been building within Flynt erupted.