Oliver placed his palms onto the table and hung his head while he willed his thoughts to settle. His mind raced in several different directions at once, which made thinking about one thing incredibly difficult. He knew that if he just allowed peace to settle then he would be able to contemplate what niggled away in the back of his mind, hovering just out of reach. He suspected it was a way to resolve the huge problem that now lay before him: how to solve the case.
“Nobody is to do anything or go anywhere alone while we work on this investigation,” Sir Hugo warned from the doorway.
Oliver jerked and looked up, and then slumped with relief when he saw his boss standing in the doorway. Inwardly, he was greatly relieved to see Sir Hugo because it meant that he wouldn’t have to look for a direction in which to take the investigation. Sir Hugo would make the ultimate decisions, and Oliver could be like the rest of the men and follow his orders.
“What do you know that we don’t?” Oliver asked, his voice low and harsh in the quiet of the room.
“Just that Smidgley has friends in high places,” Sir Hugo warned, his face grim. “It might be best if you move safe houses, but make sure no trace is left of where you have gone. Nobody is to find any of us, and when I say nobody, I mean nobody.”
“Are you staying to help us now?” Oliver asked hopefully.
His hopes were swiftly dashed when Sir Hugo shook his head. There was something in Sir Hugo’s eyes that warned Oliver that bad news was on its way, and Sir Hugo was to be the bearer of it. He waited. The silence lengthened. Sir Hugo turned to watch several Star Elite men ride into the stable yard. Nobody spoke until the riders joined them.
“More bad news?” Will asked
as he stepped into the room.
“What are you doing here so soon?” Oliver demanded.
“One of the locals saw us up on the bluff and sent for the magistrate. He appeared not long after you left and is keeping watch over the corpse while his men arrange for the coroner to collect it. He is going to oversee its – her - transportation to Tunnerley for examination,” Rhys warned. “If anything happens to her before she gets there, he is to blame.”
With that, everyone took a seat at the long table situated in the centre of the room and looked at Sir Hugo, who sat at the head of the table.
“Tell me what you know so far.”
“Horvat is dead, but his son may still be alive,” Oliver dutifully reported.
“He is of little consequence,” Sir Hugo assured them firmly.
“Horvat senior or junior?”
“Both.” Sir Hugo sighed. “He is a grunt for a boss, nothing more: a man who has been hired to snatch victims, and possibly do a few other tasks as well. For now, we can discount him.”
“Smidgley?” Oliver lifted his brows.
“Has friends in high places.” Sir Hugo’s eyes flashed with temper.
“Which Smidgley brother has friends in high places, sorry?” Jasper asked.
“Both of them.”
“How high?” Oliver suspected he already knew the answer.
“That is something I am still working on, but let me warn you all now, gentlemen, this is going to get worse before it gets better. There is one or two in high regard in the War Office, who may be prepared to do anything necessary to stop us investigating the Smidgleys’ involvement in the kidnaps and murders.”
“What do you want us to do, boss?” Rhys asked. “How do we flush the blackguard out if he is in society?”
“You don’t. I do,” Sir Hugo warned. “It isn’t going to be easy because the powers that be are more influential than me. For now, it may be best if we start to take evasive steps to make sure our investigation cannot be tampered with.”
“Tampered with?” Oliver’s gaze flew around his men, even though in the back of his mind he was already refuting that any of the men he worked with could double-cross him.
Sir Hugo sighed heavily. He leaned forward, braced his elbows on the table and stared blankly at the table-top. When he did lift his head to look at his men, there was something almost sad in his eyes. It was so uncharacteristic of Sir Hugo that the tension within the room increased tenfold.
“Like I have said, there are some within our ranks who will do whatever it takes to thwart us. I don’t doubt they would even go so far as to close the Star Elite down if they chose. The man I believe is our traitor is influential. I suspect he is turning a blind eye to what the Smidgleys are doing. He might even be helping them in some way but is cagey and going to be difficult to corner. Like I have said, he has friends in high places and isn’t afraid to try to use them if he is under attack. It may be worth our time to take a few evasive measures now, while we have the choice, rather than when we are forced to hide.”
“So, we move base? Vanish? Stay out of London? Go undercover? What?” Rhys demanded.
“You move base,” Sir Hugo replied. “However, we do not tell anybody we are going, or where we are going to. We are on our own with this, gentlemen. Only the men around this table, and a handful of local Star Elite, are to know where we base ourselves next. Our investigation is to continue but nobody is to go anywhere near London or contact anybody there. I must return to London but warn you that if our enemy has a mind to, I could be released from my position. Should that be the case, you must continue to investigate the Smidgleys and anybody associated with them, but make sure one of you goes to Barnaby Stephenson. He knows what to do.”