Ascension. A.S. Fenichel

a rough neighborhood.”

      “Much appreciated.” Gabriel hardly had the words out of his mouth and he ran toward the alley, where Belinda had disappeared.

      Only a few steps down the alley the smells of vomit, urine, sweat and ale assailed his nose. Nothing else but a tavern, and a well-frequented one, could boast quite the same odor. He remembered it well from his school days. Belinda couldn’t have gone into such a place. When the door opened, a group of men stumbled out into the street.

      Gabriel wished he’d worn different clothes. Still, some action was required. “Gentlemen, can you tell me if a young woman just entered the tavern?”

      The three men turned. One stumbled badly, the effects of drink, no doubt. They looked him up and down. Their eyes were wide as were their mouths then two of them burst out in laughter.

      The third only wobbled.

      “Must be a night for the swells to come out with the salt of the earth,” one with a barrel chest and beady eyes said.

      “I feels like a swell myself, Bob. Never spoke to so many upper-crusters before in me life,” the short skinny one replied.

      The one who had stumbled stared dumbly at Gabriel.

      Gabriel smiled, pulled two coins from his purse and tossed them to the coherent pair. They each caught one coin and looked down into their hands.

      Bob recovered first. “Yeah she’s in there. Keepin’ good company too.”

      “Who is she with?” He tried to sound unconcerned but the strain in his voice belied that.

      Bob’s eyes narrowed and he looked back down at the crown in his hand. “Reece Foxjohn. He comes by now and then for information. Only seen the woman once or twice before. Usually he’s got Lilly with him.”

      “What type of information?”

      “That will cost you,” the skinny one spoke up.

      “Tell me what I want to know and I will double what’s in your hand.” He didn’t have time for haggling with drunks.

      “He always wants to know who has gone missing or been killed. Seems real concerned about crime and asks about strange types of people lurking around.”

      “And what do you tell this Foxjohn?”

      Bob said, “Dave Cobbie up and disappeared last week. Strange that, since he’s a real family man. Wife don’t know what to make of it. Jannie O’Hurly got killed by someone who took a bite out of her face two days ago. Must have been a madman.”

      “How odd,” Gabriel said.

      “Yeah,” Bob continued. “Not too often that one of your type cares what’s happening down here with the scum.”

      Gabriel tossed them each a coin, which they caught. “Thank you for your time, gentlemen.” He nodded once and slipped into the shadows to wait for Belinda to leave the tavern.

      The two men hoisted the third by his shoulders and started down the alley away from him. The sounds of them boasting their good fortune drifted back toward Gabriel.

      Gabriel watched the tavern door. His muscles grew stiff from skulking in the shadows and he’d grown used to the foul stench. Several people stumbled from the door and each time it opened, his heart pounded.

      Belinda and Foxjohn stepped from the tavern and walked quickly back to the street where they’d left their carriage.

      “I appreciate you coming along, Belinda. It always goes better with a lady along to smooth any ruffled feathers. It is also preferable to have some backup, in case it goes bad.” The narrow alley allowed their voices to carry.

      “I forgot to ask you, where is Lillian tonight?” Belinda’s voice was businesslike. The fact that she sounded as if she were talking to an associate rather than a lover only made Gabriel feel marginally better.

      “She had a family problem to deal with.”

      “Family? I had not realized Lillian had family in London.” Her voice rose with surprise.

      “Yes, well we all have our secrets, do we not, Belinda?” The smile Foxjohn turned on Belinda made Gabriel want to kill him where he stood.

      “That we do, Reece.”

      They climbed into the same carriage and rolled away down the street.

      Gabriel found his hack waiting exactly as he said he would. “What is your name?”

      The driver was tall and broad, likely in his late twenties. “Thor, my lord.”

      “What an unusual name?”

      “Me mum was Norwegian, said it would make me a god.” He looked back at his vehicle and laughed.

      Gabriel liked the hack driver. He gave him the direction to the Clayton townhouse and climbed in. When they arrived, Thor climbed down.

      “Thank you for your assistance tonight.” Gabriel handed Thor more money.

      He put his hand up and shook his head. “Keep your money, my lord. You still want me to come by tomorrow?”

      “Yes. As I said, I may have further use of your particular talents.”

      Thor grinned wide. “Then we can work out my wages tomorrow, my lord.”

      Gabriel nodded and extended his hand.

      Thor looked down at the hand and after a pause, took hold and shook it firmly then looked up at the Clayton townhouse. “You sure you don’t need me to wait?”

      Gabriel shook his head. “I can manage from here.”

      “Tomorrow then.” Thor jumped back up in his seat, set the horses in motion and turned the corner out of sight.