Ashes To Ashes - C.J. Archer Page 0,1

that information out of him, even if it required patience rather than force. He suspected money would suffice, however. Money was easy to give away, and fortunately most criminals spilled their knowledge as soon as Lincoln flashed a few coins. He'd give Billy the Bolter an entire sack full, if it led to the fellow who'd hired the assassin who'd shot dead two supernaturals, Reginald Drinkwater and Joan Brumley. It was that man Lincoln wanted to find before he located more supernaturals to kill.

Before he located Charlie.

Lincoln might not want to be anywhere near her himself, but he felt physically ill when he thought of anyone harming her. He tightened his fist at his side, then said, "I'm here."

Billy the Bolter whipped around. He peered into the shadows near the cart. "Where? Come out so's I can see you."

"No."

Billy was silent, perhaps trying to decide if he could do business with a man who hid in shadows. "You got the chink?"

Lincoln removed a pouch from his inside jacket pocket and held it out. He didn't want to toss it. The coins would make too much noise.

Billy jerked as if surprised to know that Lincoln stood so close. He took the pouch and weighed it in his palm. "It ain't enough."

"You'll get the other half after our conversation."

"Afraid I'll bolt with yer ready, eh?" Billy laughed. Lincoln waited. "They call me Billy the Bolter, see. Bolter. Bolt. It's a pun."

Lincoln didn't move.

Billy sighed. "Jim said you was as much o' a lark as a plank o' wood." After a brief pause, in which the only sound came from Billy's throat as he swallowed, the informant finally got to the point. "Jim said you want to know about that cove who's been lookin' for a shooter."

"You were approached?"

"Nah, not me. I ain't got no barkers. Me mate, now, he's got a revolver. It were him what spoke to the toff, but I were watchin' from the next table. I saw everythin'."

"Toff? He was a gentleman?"

"Aye, real plummy accent."

"What did he look like?"

"Tall, red hair, gray beard, fat, and he had on round specs. Wore a long black cloak, made of fine wool, it were."

Lincoln's heart sank. The red hair and gray beard didn't match the descriptions he'd already gathered from his other informants. One had met a beardless man, another had described the fellow as blond and slender, yet another claimed he was young with brown hair and of average weight. The only thing they agreed on was that the man was tall. A man's height was impossible to disguise. The rest could be changed with wigs, glasses, and padding.

"What about a name?" Lincoln asked.

"Are you bleedin' stupid?"

It was worth a try. "Did he have a conveyance?"

"Black hack, no markings."

"What about the driver and horse?"

"Driver were wrapped to the eyeballs in his cloak, the horse were brown. I didn't follow him, if that's yer next question. I didn't want to make meself known to him."

"You took careful note of these things because you knew I would pay for information?"

"Aye. Jim told me."

How many people had Jim told? "Did your friend refuse the job or did the toff decide to go elsewhere after meeting him?"

Billy's pause made Lincoln frown. "How do you know he didn't take it?"

Because the killer had turned up dead a week ago, most likely silenced by the toff's hand, and Billy spoke as if his friend were still alive. "I just do."

"He refused it. He ain't no killer, see. He just uses the barker to scare folk out o' their jewels and the like."

"Why did it take you this long to approach me?" Lincoln had been speaking to informants earlier in the week, but there'd been no word from them in two days. Billy the Bolter might have delayed because he couldn't decide if lying to collect the reward was a risk worth taking. Jim would have told him what happened to informants who misled Lincoln.

Billy rocked back. "It were only last night."

"Last night?"

"God's truth! I knew you would pay because Jim told me so, but it were only last night that it happened. I spoke wiv Jim today, and he set up this meetin'."

That he had. If the exchange had only happened last night, either someone else was looking for a killer to hire, or the toff who'd commissioned the murders of the supernaturals was going to kill again.

Lincoln wasn't surprised. It had only been a matter of time. Fortunately, with Charlie gone, he could now focus on