The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(16)
He steeled himself, readying for the talons of failure to strike.
“You’ve given us a way in. At long last.” The barge rocked as Davies slammed his fist into his palm. “After years of pursuing Black, we’ve finally got him in our grasp. With you on the inside, we can collect evidence of his guilt.”
Relief pulsed through Harry. Along with surprise. “You mean…you want me to take the job?”
“Yes, by God.” Davies’s expression was as fervent as an acolyte’s. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Kent. For years, I’ve been pursuing Black, but each time he’s got away with everything from theft to pillaging to murder. There’s never been sufficient proof to find him guilty: even this time, when we have this.”
From his pocket, Davies withdrew a gold medallion. Harry recognized it from the initial briefing of the constables. Davies had found the medallion around the neck of The Gilded Pearl’s bawd. The disk of gold spun upon its chain now. A pair of crossed swords was stamped on one side, a tiny blood-red gem dripping from the tip of the right blade. The other side held a single, engraved word: Adsum.
Latin for I am here.
“This is Black’s insignia. He left his bloody calling card,”—Davies’ hand fisted around the chain—“and still I was able to do nothing.”
Davies had gone to question Black the day after the fire; Black had denied any wrongdoing. The cutthroat had acknowledged that the medallion was that of the House of Black but had refused to elaborate further. Moreover, there were no witnesses—none willing to risk their necks anyway—and Black had an alibi for the time of the fire: he’d been at a dinner party given by his daughter, Mavis Todd, his presence vouched for by at least a dozen others.
“I walked away empty-handed, but I won’t do so again. You’re going to see to that.”
As Davies tucked the medallion away, Harry saw frustration flash in the other’s gaze. He wondered what it must be like to witness all the suffering that Davies had over the years. To wage a tireless war against evil.
“What do you want me to do?” Harry said quietly.
Davies rested his arms on his knees, his expression pensive. “Earn Black’s trust. The bastard has a small inner circle: if you’re allowed entry, you’ll have access to valuable information. Keep your eyes and ears open for any details—about his business, his family—that might help us connect him to The Pearl. But observe only: we don’t want another Popay situation on our hands.”
Harry nodded. A former member of the force, William Popay had worked in civilian clothes to infiltrate the National Union. His overzealousness had earned him the label of “spy,” fueling negative public opinion about the police.
“Be on the lookout for any motive, any piece of evidence that can tie Black to the destruction of The Pearl…or any other crime. I don’t care what we get him for as long as we get him,” Davies went on starkly. “Through this, you must keep your true identity hidden. You must eat, breathe, and sleep as Sam Bennett. One false move and you’ll be paying with your life, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Hesitating, he said, “What should I do if I’m recognized?”
Although he and Black lived in different worlds, overlap was possible. London might be a metropolis, but in certain neighborhoods it felt like Chudleigh Crest, the village of his youth, where one was bound to encounter a familiar face. To Harry’s advantage, he’d lived outside of London for two years, and, before that, in Cambridge. Moreover, working as a navvy had changed his demeanor and appearance, offering him further anonymity.
“Hide, or run,” Davies said succinctly.
An honest, if not reassuring, reply.
Another problem occurred to Harry: his family. The Kents were a close-knit bunch. Since his return to London, his sisters, in particular, had been badgering him to socialize. His eldest sister, Emma, the Duchess of Strathaven, had put it in her usual forthright way: You must hold your head up high, dear brother. No matter what anyone says, you know the truth, and that is what matters. And you must know you have our full support.
He did know, but he had no intention of letting his family fight his battles for him. And while he knew Em and his other sisters were well-intentioned, he’d also declined their offers to introduce him to “nice young ladies.” Being a private man, he didn’t want them meddling in his affairs.
Now he would need his family to stay away so as not to compromise his first mission.
“I’ll have to talk to my brother—” he began.
“I can fill him in on your assignment. Of all men, Ambrose Kent understands discretion, and I’d wager he can keep the rest of your family, ahem, at bay.”
The inspector’s wry expression suggested that he knew something of Harry’s sisters. The Kent ladies were rather famous (or infamous, depending on who one asked) for their unconventionality and for marrying well in spite of it. Emma had met her duke while trying to solve a murder. Likewise, Harry’s other sisters—Thea, Violet, and Polly—had proved their mettle during adventures that had brought them together with their respective lords.
“Ambrose will know what to do,” Harry said.
Davies nodded. “The mission will bring great risk, but the reward will be commensurate. If you help me bring Black down, I can promise you a raise and a promotion in rank.”