“We have come to bring you up to date with what we know. It might help you city boys understand how us locals manage to get the job done while you are busy romancing the ladies,” Ronan teased.
“Well at least we can get the ladies,” Oliver snorted. “You country boys don’t even know what you are doing.”
“What do you know?” Harry interjected because he knew the teasing was likely to go on for hours if he didn’t interrupt.
“We might know a little something about Smidgley that will help bring this investigation to a suitable conclusion.” Roger buffed his fingernails against his shirt, clearly revelling in being able to get one over on the ‘city boys’.
“Oh? You do know that we are talking about the untouchables, don’t you?” Oliver warned.
“We know, all right, but seeing as we know this area a little better than you, we have been doing a little digging of our own when we have not been working on our own investigation. We have learnt a few things as well,” Peregrine replied.
“Like?”
“Like Ernest Smidgley enjoys going to the Red Lion over in Capsmill on Thursdays. He hires a back room, invites his cronies, and gambles away a small fortune because the fool cannot play to win. He gets blind drunk and has a penchant for trying to sample the ladies, whether they like it or not. The locals hate him being there, and have done everything possible to make Smidgley unwelcome, but he revels in being able to annoy them and make it clear they cannot stop him doing whatever he wants. There is a lot of ill-feeling toward both Smidgley brothers. I am sure that if you have a word in the shell-like of a few of the beefiest locals, they will be more than happy to help you er, collect Smidgley, if you will. It might do that brother of his some good to know what it is like to work alone for a while, don’t you think?”
“Make him vanish is what we had already planned to do. We just don’t seem able to get either one of them out of that damned house of theirs. They are holed up in there tighter than squirrels up a tree in winter,” Oliver growled.
“Well, one thing Ernest has been doing, even as recent as last week as a matter of fact, is stick to his weekly jaunts to the Red Lion. Word has it he has already rented the back room for the next couple of months, so he expects to keep going to the tavern,” Peregrine added.
“Where will you all be?”
A fine shiver of tension hung over the local men who shifted and looked at each other. “We have other things on our hands right now and it is going to take our time and energy. Besides, from what I hear, it is best if you all disappear again, if you know what I mean? I hear from the locals that Smidgley’s lot have been sniffing around asking about you, and it has made the villagers wary.”
Ronan shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to suggest. Without saying a word, he dug around in his pocket and slid a small piece of parchment across the table toward Oliver, who picked it up and read it.
“Go. Stay there. We will get to you when we can, but it is time for you to disappear, gentlemen.”
“What about Sir Hugo?” Oliver whispered.
“Gone. He has vanished. From all accounts, he had some sort of altercation with Argent, walked out of the War Office about a week ago, and hasn’t been seen since. Nobody knows where he is. This time, even his wife is asking where he is. Nobody has a clue where to even start to look. Even his old haunts haven’t seen him.” Daniel sighed. “He will re-surface, I don’t doubt, but there are rumblings he isn’t in office any longer. Moreover, Argent has vanished as well.”
“Argent has gone?”
Ronan nodded. “I doubt he is with Sir Hugo.”
Oliver dropped his head in his hands and knew this was what Sir Hugo had expected and would be least surprised about.
“It’s time for us to vanish too then,” Oliver growled.
“Are you here to move us?” Harry asked.
Peregrine shook his head. “It would only draw attention to our connection. We should go because time is short for us. It is important that we finish our investigation so we can help you bring yours to a close. I won’t ask what the Hell is going on in London. We will catch up with you when we are done with our investigations. If you do finish your mission bef
ore we conclude ours, make sure one of you lets us know. Meantime, we know where to find you if there is a problem but for now, well, you are on your own.”
This truly felt to Oliver and his colleagues as if they were being cast adrift on a storm-tossed sea the currents of which could drag them out to God knows where. None of them truly had any control of the situation they now faced. They were led by the events of others around them. As a result, they would now be fighting; defending themselves so they could continue their investigation. This was no longer a Star Elite-led investigation. This was a fight for survival.
“God’s speed, gentlemen. Go to that house. You will be safe there,” Ronan said. With that, he doffed his imaginary cap and sauntered out of the door.
Peregrine and Daniel lingered for a little while longer before they too, one by one, took their leave and disappeared in different directions.
Harry sighed and looked at his friends. “I never thought I would see the day that Sir Hugo would leave his position.”
“He hasn’t,” Oliver countered. “What Sir Hugo did was send a very clear message to us. By being so visible, and disappearing so, well, openly, he is sending us a message, relayed by the local lads, that we are to go deep undercover.” He fingered the small piece of parchment Ronan, Daniel, and Peregrine had just given him, which contained the address of their new safe house. “That is what this is all about. For now, we are on our own because Sir Hugo will not resurface until Smidgley is cornered, or he has dealt with the threat from the heirarchy.”
“What about Emmeline?” Harry whispered. “What do we do with her? We cannot take her with us. We need all the manpower we can get. If the local lads cannot help us, we must make sure that nothing distracts us. Every minute counts, and it doesn’t include spending time babysitting her. We have to send her home.”
“What, to be snatched just like the others?” Oliver snapped. “We may as well sodding deliver her to their door because they will bloody well fetch her within the hour just to lure us out of hiding. You know they will. I am not going to have her death on my conscience. She is not expendable. Besides, we may need her to lure Smidgley out of his lair.”