germ itself. Then the Sicilians can go back to their normal commerce and begin to make peace with the Italians.”
“Are you dictating terms, Mr. Barker?”
“At this time, with Victor’s organization in disarray, I could,” Barker admitted, “but I have no desire to. You may handle this entire situation yourself if you wish. I would gladly hand it over to you. But if you wish me to do it, I must have a free hand, and I will not make use of the Camorrans. I consider them to be a criminal organization and won’t associate this agency with them.”
Gigliotti sat tight-lipped for a moment, red to the scalp. It occurred to me that the old man was probably the head of the Camorran secret society in London now and that what Barker said was something of an insult. It also occurred to me that Hooligan’s men were as much criminals as the Italian fraternity, but they had passed through Barker’s sieve.
“Victor said your word is your bond. Will you kill this man who has murdered my son?”
“I will see him brought to justice,” Barker said. “Beyond that, I will not promise. I’m not an assassin.”
Gigliotti took a cigar out of the case and bit off the tip.
“You won’t kill him. Serafini is dead. There is never an assassin around when you need one.” He lit the cigar and puffed a plume of smoke with a sigh. “Very well, if it is the best you can offer. All I wanted was to have a few years of peace before I die. Now this!”
“Most regrettable, sir,” Barker agreed.
“My boy,” he muttered suddenly. “My wonderful boy.” It was as if his mask had slipped and we could see the griefbehind it. He cleared his throat and mastered himself once again. “I must get back. I have to plan a funeral for my only son.” He stood and began to leave. Hesitating at the door, he turned and frowned at Barker.
“Find him,” he ordered.
“I will.”
I couldn’t help but think it was easier said than done.
Demo version limitation
Demo version limitation
27
T HE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET WHEN WE ARRIVED at South East India Dock. We stood on the dock, surrounded on two sides by warehouses and on the other two by the bristling masts of anchored ships. Narrow alleyways separated one warehouse from another, and cargo was stacked in crates or in odd shapes covered with canvas, dotting the terrain like small mountains. A mass of men, mostly young, milled about at the south end, getting to know each other by sight. I estimated there were close to a hundred of us.
“Are they ready?” Barker asked Tillett.
“Ready enough. They’re untested, of course, but they’re spoiling for a fight.”
“Have you seen any pistols?”
“No, but I’m not about to start searching them, especially not Hooligan’s men.”
“Point them out to me,” Barker said in a low voice, appraising the crowd.
“That big one there,” Tillett said, pointing out a tall,gangly man with his head shorn close like a convict. “And him,” he continued, indicating a young man with red hair and evil-looking features, who out of sheer fierceness had torn off the sleeves of his coat and shirt. “Those two,” he continued, pointing to a pair of sharp-featured persons, apparently siblings, “and him,” he finished, indicating a large African in a checked suit and cloth cap who stood apart with the hauteur of a panther.
“Is that all? Just the five?”
“No, there are more, but the rest are dispersed among mine. There are thirty or so.”
“How many in all?”
“A hundred fifteen, give or take half a dozen.”
Barker nodded. “Not bad. How are they getting along?”
“Well enough, except for your Frenchmen.”
“The Dummolard boys? What’s the problem?”
“They’ve chosen a crate over there as their base of operations and won’t take orders from me or anyone.”
“You’ve done good work. Let me handle our apache friends.”
Barker moved among the crowd, encouraging them as he went. This was a side of him I hadn’t seen
“Are you dictating terms, Mr. Barker?”
“At this time, with Victor’s organization in disarray, I could,” Barker admitted, “but I have no desire to. You may handle this entire situation yourself if you wish. I would gladly hand it over to you. But if you wish me to do it, I must have a free hand, and I will not make use of the Camorrans. I consider them to be a criminal organization and won’t associate this agency with them.”
Gigliotti sat tight-lipped for a moment, red to the scalp. It occurred to me that the old man was probably the head of the Camorran secret society in London now and that what Barker said was something of an insult. It also occurred to me that Hooligan’s men were as much criminals as the Italian fraternity, but they had passed through Barker’s sieve.
“Victor said your word is your bond. Will you kill this man who has murdered my son?”
“I will see him brought to justice,” Barker said. “Beyond that, I will not promise. I’m not an assassin.”
Gigliotti took a cigar out of the case and bit off the tip.
“You won’t kill him. Serafini is dead. There is never an assassin around when you need one.” He lit the cigar and puffed a plume of smoke with a sigh. “Very well, if it is the best you can offer. All I wanted was to have a few years of peace before I die. Now this!”
“Most regrettable, sir,” Barker agreed.
“My boy,” he muttered suddenly. “My wonderful boy.” It was as if his mask had slipped and we could see the griefbehind it. He cleared his throat and mastered himself once again. “I must get back. I have to plan a funeral for my only son.” He stood and began to leave. Hesitating at the door, he turned and frowned at Barker.
“Find him,” he ordered.
“I will.”
I couldn’t help but think it was easier said than done.
Demo version limitation
Demo version limitation
27
T HE SUN WAS STARTING TO SET WHEN WE ARRIVED at South East India Dock. We stood on the dock, surrounded on two sides by warehouses and on the other two by the bristling masts of anchored ships. Narrow alleyways separated one warehouse from another, and cargo was stacked in crates or in odd shapes covered with canvas, dotting the terrain like small mountains. A mass of men, mostly young, milled about at the south end, getting to know each other by sight. I estimated there were close to a hundred of us.
“Are they ready?” Barker asked Tillett.
“Ready enough. They’re untested, of course, but they’re spoiling for a fight.”
“Have you seen any pistols?”
“No, but I’m not about to start searching them, especially not Hooligan’s men.”
“Point them out to me,” Barker said in a low voice, appraising the crowd.
“That big one there,” Tillett said, pointing out a tall,gangly man with his head shorn close like a convict. “And him,” he continued, indicating a young man with red hair and evil-looking features, who out of sheer fierceness had torn off the sleeves of his coat and shirt. “Those two,” he continued, pointing to a pair of sharp-featured persons, apparently siblings, “and him,” he finished, indicating a large African in a checked suit and cloth cap who stood apart with the hauteur of a panther.
“Is that all? Just the five?”
“No, there are more, but the rest are dispersed among mine. There are thirty or so.”
“How many in all?”
“A hundred fifteen, give or take half a dozen.”
Barker nodded. “Not bad. How are they getting along?”
“Well enough, except for your Frenchmen.”
“The Dummolard boys? What’s the problem?”
“They’ve chosen a crate over there as their base of operations and won’t take orders from me or anyone.”
“You’ve done good work. Let me handle our apache friends.”
Barker moved among the crowd, encouraging them as he went. This was a side of him I hadn’t seen
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