When Paxton said nothing, Ethan craned his neck to peer up at him.
“Very well done, Mister Kaille. That is precisely what happened.”
“Yes, sir. No thief would have entered in this way when the house was occupied. It would have made a good deal of noise. I would guess as well that whoever did this had been watching your home for some time, educating himself as to your behavior and that of your wife, as well as those others who live with you.” He stood.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Paxton said. “You would have seen the sort of men who frequent the rope yard across the street from us. No doubt it was one of them.”
“Or one of the soldiers billeted up the street.”
He could see that Paxton wanted to argue the point; they both knew that he couldn’t. Since the beginning of the occupation, soldiers had been responsible for many thefts throughout the city. They were paid poorly, were too often idle, and had little regard for the city’s inhabitants.
“I suppose that’s possible as well,” Paxton said.
“Did you prepare a list of the stolen items?”
“Yes, of course. Wait here.”
Paxton left through a doorway that led onto a narrow corridor. Ethan glanced at the door again, but really there was little more he could glean from it. Already he knew where this inquiry would take him. Before he was through, he would need to speak with Paxton’s servants and pay a visit to Green’s Barracks.
Paxton soon returned, clutching a piece of parchment. On it were listed nine items, including the necklace, brooch, and watch the commissioner had mentioned the night before. In addition, Mrs. Paxton had lost several gold rings, a pair of bracelets, and an ivory-handled hairbrush.
“Thank you, sir. This will be most helpful. I believe you said last night that these items were taken from your wife’s dressing room?”
“That’s right. Except for the watch, which was taken from my bedroom. I would allow you to see both, but there would be little use in it. We wasted no time cleaning up the mess left by this brute. There is nothing for you to see upstairs, and I don’t wish to disturb my wife. As you might expect, she has been thoroughly unnerved by this ordeal. I would prefer that we not include her in any of our conversations, lest we upset her more.”
“I understand,” Ethan said. “Tell me though, is there anything unusual about the plan of this house?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no delicate way for me to put this, sir. What I mean to ask it this: Would a stranger to your home have an easy time navigating its many rooms, or would he need some prior knowledge in order to find the things he stole?”
Paxton frowned. “I don’t think I like your implication, Mister Kaille.”
“No, sir, I didn’t expect you would. I wish to speak with your servants, if I may. Particularly any young women who might work for you, and might have drawn the interest of one of General Gage’s soldiers.”
Paxton sighed. “That would be Louisa,” he said. “I’m afraid she’s not here at this time. Her parents live in the country and she left yesterday to spend the evening with them; her father, it seems, is elderly and infirm. She will return later today. You can speak with her tomorrow morning, if that suits you.”
“That would be fine, sir.”
“What will you do now?”
Ethan had no chance to answer, for at that moment a conjuring shook the floors and walls of the mansion. He knew it instantly for a finding spell, and he had no doubt that it had been cast to locate him. It rushed toward the house, putting him in mind of an advancing tide, as had Morrison’s spell two days before. It reached him in mere seconds, and was followed immediately by another spell.
This time, as the house rumbled with conjuring power, Uncle Reg appeared between Ethan and Paxton, who was, of course, oblivious.
“Mister Kaille, I asked you a question.”
“Yes, sir,” Ethan said, desperate to leave at once and learn what this newest spell had wrought. “I plan to visit a tavern that is frequented by men who traffic in pilfered goods.”
“You know of such a place?” Paxton asked, sounding indignant. “You should inform the sheriff at once.”
“I would, sir,” Ethan said, “but doing so would be a waste of time. Sheriff Greenleaf is well aware of its existence. If you can show me to the door?”
The customs man scowled. “Yes, all right.”
Paxton led him back through to the front of the house, moving far too slowly for Ethan’s purposes. It was all Ethan could do not to scream at the man to walk faster.
“I’ll return tomorrow, sir,” Ethan said as they reached the door. “Thank you for your time.”
“Wait a minute, Mister Kaille. Do you mean to tell me that visiting this publick house is all you plan to do?”
“No, sir. I plan as well to speak with your servant, and to see if I can find any soldiers or journeymen working at the rope yard who might have lavished their attentions on her. But I intend to start at the tavern, because if I don’t, and your property shows up there and is sold, you’ll never see any of it again.”
“Yes, but-”
“Mister Paxton, I have been a thieftaker for many years now. I wouldn’t visit the Customs House and tell you how to do your job. Please don’t presume to tell me how to conduct my inquiry.”
Paxton’s face shaded to crimson, but he essayed a thin smile. “Yes, very well. Good day, Mister Kaille.”
“Good day, sir.”
Ethan donned his hat and hurried back out to the street, but by the time he was close enough to the rope yard to see what was happening, events had already begun to turn ugly.
A soldier stood near the first of the ropewalks, trading insults with a journeyman as other workers looked on, laughing at each of the journeyman’s barbs. Ethan could not hear all that was said, but he saw that the soldier’s hands were clenched in fists, and that his face was bright red. Even as he shouted something back at the workers and took a step toward them, another man, using a nearby building to remain hidden, snuck up behind the regular and knocked his legs out from under him.
The soldier fell hard on his back, drawing uproarious laughter from the other men. Their mirth, however, was short-lived. A cutlass had slipped from within the soldier’s coat when he went down. The man who had upended him grabbed the weapon and held it up for his fellow workers to see.
“Looks like I’ve got a prize,” he said.
The soldier got to his feet, moving stiffly. He glowered at the men, but there were five of them, and he was alone and now unarmed. With a last dark look at the workers, he retreated toward the barracks.
After what he had seen at the Richardson house days before, Ethan knew better than to think that this was the end of the confrontation. He was not at all surprised when he felt another conjuring.
“Did that come from me?” he asked Uncle Reg.
The ghost nodded.
Ethan pursued the soldier, hoping that he might be able to dissuade the man from trying to avenge himself on the workers. But as he drew near, the soldier turned and pointed a trembling finger at him.
“You stay away from me!”
Ethan held up hid hands. “I’m not one of them, and I’m not trying to harm you.”
“It’s not me who’ll come to harm! I’ll have my sword back, and I’ll have satisfaction! You’ll see!”
“No good can come of this,” Ethan said.
But the soldier dismissed him with a wave of his hand and ran on to the barracks.
Ethan stared after him, and then turned back toward Paxton’s mansion and the journeymen. The laborers had returned to their work, though as Ethan reached them, they were still laughing and talking about how foolish the regular had looked as he fell.
“End this now,” Ethan called to the men. “Return his cutlass and have nothing more to do with them.”