THE BARONET'S DAUGHTER

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

'I wonder you stick it,' Quipp pressed.

'Hard to get work with this 'ere physog of mine,' the man said simply.

Quipp held out a hand. 'Jim is my moniker,' he said. 'What's yours?'

'They call me Jake,' the man said.

'Jake what?

'Just Jake. Never knew my last name, see,' Jake told him. 'Orphaned when I was but a baby. Knocked around the streets since.'

Quipp felt a moment of pity, but squashed it. Sentiment was a weakness that could get a man killed.

'Well, you're lucky then,' Quipp said jocularly. 'You can take any name you like. For instance, you could call yourself after that gent as was plugged in this club by Silas Taplow.' Quipp paused, finger to his chin. 'Now what was the gent's name...?

'Wellesley,' Jake said promptly. 'Sir Edward Wellesley. I was here. It was me as took the message to her ladyship.'

Quipp was nonplussed for a moment. Had he struck gold so soon?

'Her ladyship?'

Jake stepped back, a look of wariness on his face, and Quipp realised he had pushed ahead too quickly and had asked the wrong question.

'I best get on,' Jake said. His shifty gaze now scanned the room and Quipp wondered who he was afraid of.

'Well, it was nice meeting yer, Jake,' he said louder than need be and got up from the bar stool.

Surreptitiously, he pressed a coin into Jake's hand. It was half a sovereign.

In a low voice he said. 'There's more where that came from, Jake.' Louder he said to the room in general. 'Well, I'm off now. Meeting a mate at the Pig and Thistle.'

With that he shouldered his way through the throng and left the club. But he did not go far. He walked down the street for a few steps and then crossed the road obliquely under cover of a passing carriage and retraced his steps on the other side.

He observed the club as before but no figure emerged that disturbed him. When he was satisfied that he was not to be followed he repaired to the Pig and Thistle to wait and see if he had hooked his fish.

It was over an hour before Jake shuffled through the pub door. Quipp stood up and approach him, leading him to an empty stall at the back of the pub. He signalled a serving man to bring two beers.

'You got away early then, Jake,' Quipp said as they sat down on wooden benches facing each other.

'Paid old Billy Spooner two pennies to take my place,' Jake said, and gave a grunting laugh.

Not so intelligent but sufficiently cunning, Quip thought and was pleased at his choice of quarry to pump.

The serving man brought the beers and Quipp paid him. When he was gone Quipp took a sovereign out of his pocket and laid it on the table.

Jake's eyes widened and he looked enquiringly into Quipp's face. 'How come you have so much loot?' he asked.

'It ain't mine,' Quipp lied. 'It belongs to my employer. He's a gent as is willing to pay top bung for good information.'

Jake looked longingly at the coin. 'I got lots to tell,' he said hopefully.

'Well, let's see,' Quipp said. 'Tell me about the night Sir Edward Wellesley got plugged.'

'Like I said, I was there and I seed it happen.' He sniggered again. 'Never seen the Phoenix Club empty so fast,' he said.

'The law was sent for then?'