Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [7]
Wrexham bought a ticket on a ferry to St Malo, across the Channel on the coast of France. Pitt bought one as well. He hoped fervently that Gower had sufficient money to get one too, but the only thing worse than fetching up alone in France, trying to follow Wrexham without help, would be to lose him altogether.
He boarded the ferry, a smallish steamship called the Laura, and remained within sight of the gangplank. He needed to see if Gower came aboard, but more importantly to make sure that Wrexham did not get off again. If Wrexham were aware of Pitt and Gower it would be a simple thing to go ashore again, and leave them on their way to France, completely trapped, while he returned on the next train to London.
Pitt was leaning on the railing with the sharp, salt wind in his face when he heard footsteps behind him. He swung round, then was annoyed with himself for betraying such obvious alarm.
Gower was a yard away, smiling. ‘Did you think I was going to push you over?’ he said amusedly.
Pitt swallowed back his temper. ‘Not this close to the shore,’ he replied. ‘I’ll watch you more closely out in mid-Channel!’
Gower laughed. ‘Looks like a good decision, sir. Following him this far could get us a real idea of who his contacts are in Europe. We might even find a clue as to what they’re planning.’
Pitt doubted it, but it was all they had left now. ‘Perhaps. But we mustn’t be seen together. We’re lucky he hasn’t recognised us so far. He would have if he weren’t so abominably arrogant.’
Gower was suddenly very serious, his fair face grim. ‘I think whatever he has planned is so important his mind is completely absorbed in it. He thought he lost us in Ropemakers’ Fields. Don’t forget we were in a totally separate carriage on the train.’
‘I know. But he must have seen us when we were chasing him. He ran,’ Pitt pointed out. ‘I wish at least one of us had a jacket to change. But in April, at sea, without them we’d be even more conspicuous.’ He looked at Gower’s coat. They were not markedly different in size. Even if they did no more than exchange coats, it would alter both their appearances slightly.
As if reading the thought in his eyes, Gower began to slip off his coat. He passed it over, and took Pitt’s from his outstretched hand.
Pitt put on Gower’s jacket. It was a little tight across the chest.
With a rueful smile Gower emptied the pockets of Pitt’s jacket, which sat a little loosely on his shoulders. He passed over Pitt’s notebook, handkerchief, pencil, loose change, half a dozen other bits and pieces, then the wallet with Pitt’s papers of identity, and his money.
Pitt similarly passed over all Gower’s belongings.
Gower gave a little salute. ‘See you in St Malo,’ he said, turning on his heel and walking away without looking back, a slight swagger in his step. Then he stopped and half turned towards Pitt, smiling. ‘I’d keep away from the railing, if I were you, sir.’
Pitt raised his hand in a salute, and resumed watching the gangway.
It was just past the equinox, and darkness still came quite early. They put out to sea as the sun was setting over the headland, and the wind off the water was distinctly chill. There was no point in even wondering where Wrexham was, let alone trying to watch him. If he met with anyone they would not know unless they were so close to him as to be obvious, and it might look like no more than a mere casual civility between strangers anyway. It would be better to find a chair and get a little sleep. It had been a long day, full of exertion, horror, hectic running through the streets and then sitting perfectly still in a railway carriage.
As he sat drifting towards sleep, Pitt thought with regret that he had not had even a chance to tell Charlotte that he would not be home that night, or perhaps even the next one. He had no idea where his decision would take him. He had not very much money with him, sufficient