“Let us hope I do not have to use all my garments to barter for information.”
Tristan cast a wicked grin. “Oh, I don’t know. The idea has some appeal.”
Chapter 19
The lodgings on Church Street were similar to those on Gerrard Street, although the entrance to the upper floors could be found via a dingy passageway between two buildings.
As with any place that offered some protection from the harsh elements, what appeared to be a mound of clothes piled up against the wall was indeed a man sheltering beneath an over-sized coat. Isabella covered the lower part of her face with her hand. Tristan imagined that the sudden stench of stale urine proved to be too overpowering for her. With no choice but to ignore the poor man’s plea for a spare coin, they entered the building through the door in the alley. Unlike the previous premises, there was accommodation on the ground floor.
Tristan stepped forward and raised his hand to knock the paint-chipped door. “Let us hope the old woman told the truth and did not deceive us into giving her your best gloves. If you have to give away your slippers as a bribe for information, I am more than happy to carry you.”
Isabella raised a brow. “We will lose your cravat before we lose anything else of mine.”
He chuckled in the hope his amusement would help to ease her anxiety. After all, Mr. Blackwood had engaged in criminal activity; Tristan knew many thieves who had progressed to murder.
Dismissing a faint hint of apprehension, he thumped the door with the side of his clenched fist. As expected, no one answered.
“It is ridiculously late,” Isabella said moving to his side to assist him by rapping the crude brass knocker three times. “Perhaps he is tucked up in his bed.”
Or perhaps the man was out fencing stolen goods.
The sound of shuffling on the other side of the door caught Tristan’s attention. Unless rats were scurrying about the house, someone was listening to their every word.
Tristan put his mouth to the gap between the frame and the door. “Mr. Blackwood,” he whispered. “We know you are in there. Let us in else we will be forced to call the constable.”
The noises inside grew progressively louder. There was a range of mumbled curses, the dull thud of a heavy object falling to the floor.
Was it Mr. Blackwood’s intention to make it obvious he was at home?
“It sounds as though he is moving the furniture,” Isabella said.
“Bloody hell!” Tristan grabbed Isabella’s hand. “No doubt he is attempting to climb out of the window.”
They raced out into the dark alley, ignored the foul scent hanging in the air. They turned left and followed the cobbled path to a small courtyard at the rear of the building. A man, whom Tristan presumed to be Mr. Blackwood, sat astride the window ledge. With one leg on the ground and his head bent to navigate the low sash, the man was obviously trying to make his escape.
Tristan cleared his throat. “Ah, Mr. Blackwood, have you lost your key?”
The man craned his neck, gasped as his gaze fell to Isabella. With wide eyes, Mr. Blackwood stared at her with a look of horror.
“Go away,” he whispered. “Leave now before it is too late.”
The words were far from threatening. In fact, if Tristan was not mistaken, Mr. Blackwood appeared utterly terrified.
“We are not leaving here until we have spoken to you.” Tristan stepped forward. “Now, we can do that out here, or we can come inside. We can do that with or without a constable.”
There was a tense moment of silence.
“We just want to talk to you,” Isabella added, “and then we will leave you in peace.”
“Peace?” Mr. Blackwood continued to mutter to himself. While the rest of his words were incoherent, his rapid, high-pitched tone revealed an element of distress. “I’ve not had a minute’s peace for months. You … you had better come inside.”
Isabella turned to Tristan and touched his arm. “If we leave he might not open the door.”
She had a point. Whilst they were walking to the front door, Mr. Blackwood could easily escape through the window.
“I shall wait here,” Tristan whispered. “
I’ll watch you walk down the alley until you are safely inside. Then I shall climb through the window.”