Wait Until Midnight

TWENTY-FIVE

It was after five by the time Mr. McDaniel ushered them out of his house. A thick fog was closing in fast, leaching the light from the fading day. Adam could feel the angry tension shimmering through Caroline. Her shoulders were rigid.

"Well?" he prompted. "Did you see a mark on the certificate?"

"Yes. I can describe it to Mr. Spraggett. But he will have left his office for the day. I will not be able to talk to him until tomorrow."

She fell silent.

"Try not to take this matter to heart," he said after a while. "It is certainly not your fault. There was nothing you could have done to protect Jones's victims."

"All three of them are going to lose their money."

"Caveat emptor. Anyone who is foolish enough to take financial advice from the Other Side—"

"Rubbish. That is very easy for you to say, sir, but Miss B^rick, Mrs. Trent and Mr. McDaniel lack your financial skills. You know very well that none of them can afford to have that gold mine investment fail."

"It will be a great hardship on them, no question."

A hansom cab clattered past and disappeared into the log. Awareness shivered across the nape of Adam's neck. The sensation was one he recognized all too well. He had experienced it often enough in the old days when he had been in the business of selling other people's secrets in narrow lanes and dark alleys. The survival instincts that he had learned as a youth persisted within him still. It required a great deal of discipline to fight the urge to look back over his shoulder.

"You saw their homes," Caroline continued, voice ringing with the force of her feelings. "It is obvious that they are all barely getting by as it is. I do not want to think about what will happen when they discover that they have been duped. They will be devastated."

"Very likely," he admitted.

He turned his head partway toward her, bending for-ward slightly, making it appear that he was paying earnest attention to Caroline's conversation. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a shadowy figure in the fog.

Caroline raised one gloved hand. "We must do some-thing, Adam."

He almost smiled. "By we, I conclude that you mean I must do something?"

"Ideally, of course, that dreadful Mr. Jones should be forced to reimburse his victims. But if that does not hap-pen, we cannot let those poor people lose everything."

"Do not concern yourself, Caroline." He risked another glance and saw that their follower was still there, still maintaining the same distance. "I will see to it that Brick, Trent and McDaniel get their money back, one way or another."

She tilted her head slightly. Beneath the brim of her clever little hat he could see that she was glowing with approval.

"Thank you, Adam. That is very kind of you"

"I can only hope that Jones's list of financial victims is not long."

"I wonder how many people he has fleeced with those worthless mining shares."

"Caroline, we have a small problem."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Someone is following us."

"What?" She tried to stop and spin around.

"Keep moving." He used his grip on her arm to force her to continue forward. "Do not give any sign that you are aware of him."

"Yes, of course." She continued along the pavement, walking at her usual brisk pace. "Who do you think is back there?"

"I intend to find out"

He studied the mist-shrouded street for a moment, looking for a place to set a snare. The houses along each side of the pavement were placed side by side with no convenient walks or paths between them. The best option was the small park. The fog would provide a convenient veil.

"Here is what we will do," he said to Caroline. "Listen closely and do exactly as I say."