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Chapter Twelve
Lord Ravencroft found Cocker less help than he had hoped and expected. The leader of the Gentleman was a big, burly man with red hair, not noticeably intelligent but with a certain native shrewdness. Ravencroft’s suggestion that he masquerade as one of the Gentlemen was refused.
“The last fellow that tried that near queered my game,” Cocker said. “The Frenchies smelled a rat – and Bransom was better suited for the role than yourself, your lordship.” He stared at Lord Ravencroft’s elegant jacket, his white hands and lean, aristocratic face .
“Naturally I would alter my appearance.”
“No turning a silk purse into a sow’s ear. I couldn’t let you try it. Bransom disappeared after one run. I’ve no proof, but between you and me and the fence post, I think the lads from France got him. He paid too much attention when they was talking the bongjaw between themselves. It’s my belief they set up a trap for the poor innocent. Now a dandy gent like yourself wouldn’t want to play so rough, eh? Stick to your court balls and let us as knows how do the dirty work. Anyhow, there’s nothing but brandy coming ashore in my cargo. If you want a tip, try Joe Kirby’s gang.”
“Where do they bring their cargo in?”
Cocker smiled a sly smile. “There’s honor amongst the Gentlemen, same as if we was thieves.”
“I’m not a Preventiveman,” Ravencroft growled. “You know I’m not after the smugglers. I like my brandy as wellas the next fellow.”
“Joe don’t bring in brandy.” Ravencroft’s eyes lit up. This was it. “His line is silk.”
He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Well, where can I find him?”
Cocker held up his right hand and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. Ravencroft reached in his pocket and dropped a golden coin into the outstretched hand.
As Cocker pocketed the coin, a grin split his face. “Same place as you can find me on a dark night. The bay east of Bratty Hall. There’s no argument betwixt me and Joe, seeing as we deal in different merchandise, like.”
Ravencroft glared at being tricked, “Who buys his stuff?”
“I don’t worry my head over that. That’s his business.”
Ravencroft’s nostrils flared with the strain of ingratiating this infuriating man. “My golden boy didn’t buy me much, did it?”
Cocker stood a moment, undecided. Then he said, “Seeing as how it’s for England, I’ll let you in on a little something, but you didn’t hear it from Jack Cocker. Kirby and his boys are doing very well for themselves. Yessir, very well indeed. Joe’s bought up a half interest in a pub, and his right hand man bought ten acres of orchard off the Nevils. Silk don’t bring in that kind of money.” He shook his head in dismay. “Fools, flaunting it like that. It turns law-abiding folks agin us. I put my blunt into Consols.”
“Any idea when they might be bringing in another load?”
“We share the dark nights. I brought in my load night before last. He’ll bring his before the moon waxes much. Maybe tonight.”
Ravencroft clapped him on the back. “Thanks, Cocker,” he said with a grin. “And by the way, that barrel you sold me was excellent stuff.”
Cocker’s huge chest expanded, threatening the bone buttons on his shirt. “I only deal in the best.”
Ravencroft left, already planning what he must do that night.
At Bratty Hall, Amy was also making plans. She knew that Cocker wasn’t bringing in the paper money. She also knew that Joe Kirby was the other likely suspect, and that he used her papa’s bay. His men came from the far side of Easton, however, and she had no acquaintances amongst them. If she were to discover anything, she would have to hide nearby the next time they were bringing in a load. She couldn’t use the rock that overlooked the bay; Kirby would have his spotsman stationed there. She would have to be far enough away or well enough concealed to avoid detection, yet close
Chapter Twelve
Lord Ravencroft found Cocker less help than he had hoped and expected. The leader of the Gentleman was a big, burly man with red hair, not noticeably intelligent but with a certain native shrewdness. Ravencroft’s suggestion that he masquerade as one of the Gentlemen was refused.
“The last fellow that tried that near queered my game,” Cocker said. “The Frenchies smelled a rat – and Bransom was better suited for the role than yourself, your lordship.” He stared at Lord Ravencroft’s elegant jacket, his white hands and lean, aristocratic face .
“Naturally I would alter my appearance.”
“No turning a silk purse into a sow’s ear. I couldn’t let you try it. Bransom disappeared after one run. I’ve no proof, but between you and me and the fence post, I think the lads from France got him. He paid too much attention when they was talking the bongjaw between themselves. It’s my belief they set up a trap for the poor innocent. Now a dandy gent like yourself wouldn’t want to play so rough, eh? Stick to your court balls and let us as knows how do the dirty work. Anyhow, there’s nothing but brandy coming ashore in my cargo. If you want a tip, try Joe Kirby’s gang.”
“Where do they bring their cargo in?”
Cocker smiled a sly smile. “There’s honor amongst the Gentlemen, same as if we was thieves.”
“I’m not a Preventiveman,” Ravencroft growled. “You know I’m not after the smugglers. I like my brandy as wellas the next fellow.”
“Joe don’t bring in brandy.” Ravencroft’s eyes lit up. This was it. “His line is silk.”
He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “Well, where can I find him?”
Cocker held up his right hand and rubbed his thumb against his fingers. Ravencroft reached in his pocket and dropped a golden coin into the outstretched hand.
As Cocker pocketed the coin, a grin split his face. “Same place as you can find me on a dark night. The bay east of Bratty Hall. There’s no argument betwixt me and Joe, seeing as we deal in different merchandise, like.”
Ravencroft glared at being tricked, “Who buys his stuff?”
“I don’t worry my head over that. That’s his business.”
Ravencroft’s nostrils flared with the strain of ingratiating this infuriating man. “My golden boy didn’t buy me much, did it?”
Cocker stood a moment, undecided. Then he said, “Seeing as how it’s for England, I’ll let you in on a little something, but you didn’t hear it from Jack Cocker. Kirby and his boys are doing very well for themselves. Yessir, very well indeed. Joe’s bought up a half interest in a pub, and his right hand man bought ten acres of orchard off the Nevils. Silk don’t bring in that kind of money.” He shook his head in dismay. “Fools, flaunting it like that. It turns law-abiding folks agin us. I put my blunt into Consols.”
“Any idea when they might be bringing in another load?”
“We share the dark nights. I brought in my load night before last. He’ll bring his before the moon waxes much. Maybe tonight.”
Ravencroft clapped him on the back. “Thanks, Cocker,” he said with a grin. “And by the way, that barrel you sold me was excellent stuff.”
Cocker’s huge chest expanded, threatening the bone buttons on his shirt. “I only deal in the best.”
Ravencroft left, already planning what he must do that night.
At Bratty Hall, Amy was also making plans. She knew that Cocker wasn’t bringing in the paper money. She also knew that Joe Kirby was the other likely suspect, and that he used her papa’s bay. His men came from the far side of Easton, however, and she had no acquaintances amongst them. If she were to discover anything, she would have to hide nearby the next time they were bringing in a load. She couldn’t use the rock that overlooked the bay; Kirby would have his spotsman stationed there. She would have to be far enough away or well enough concealed to avoid detection, yet close
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