return to London, his report to Melville and Wolverstone, and Robert’s subsequent recruitment to undertake the next leg of the mission.
Babington arched a brow. “Not your usual sort of escapade.”
“True, but I’m not averse to the occasional challenge.” Robert realized that was, indeed, the truth. “It keeps me on my toes.”
“It’ll do more than that if there are slavers involved. Normally, they don’t operate in the settlement—they give it a wide berth—but I’ve heard tales aplenty. Enough to know the locals both despise and fear them with good cause.” Babington looked at Robert. “So you’re here to pick up the slavers’ trail.”
Robert nodded. “My task is to locate their camp, which I’ve learned will be out in the jungle somewhere, sufficiently far out to avoid the patrols out of Thornton, and also to steer clear of the surrounding villages and their chiefs.”
“That makes sense.” Babington met Robert’s gaze. “Whatever help I can give, you can count on it.”
Robert inclined his head in acknowledgment. “My orders are to learn the camp’s location, then take that back to London. I’ve been expressly forbidden to follow the trail of the captives any further.” He looked Babington in the eye. “In trusting you with the details of this mission, I expect you to abide by the restrictions, too.”
Babington thought, then grimaced. “As you say, locating the enterprise—the mine, if it turns out to be that—without alerting whoever the villains have in their pockets here is absolutely vital. If news that London is conducting an investigation leaks out...” He took a swig of his whisky, then bleakly finished, “All the captives will be dead sooner than you can blink.”
“Just so.” Robert felt his face harden.
“So what do you need me to do?”
Robert reviewed his options. “At present, my men and I are quietly tucked away in an inn in the merchants’ quarter. Far enough from the docks that it’s unlikely we’ll run into anyone who would recognize me—or my men.”
Babington frowned. “Where’s The Trident?”
“At anchor farther down the estuary.” Robert paused, then added, “We have false name boards up, and with the squadron at sea, there’s no one around likely to recognize her lines.”
“Except me.” Babington drained his glass. “And I won’t tell.”
“Exactly.” Robert paused, then asked, “Do you have any inkling of who in the settlement might be involved in this? Anyone acting suspiciously?”
Babington snorted. “I hadn’t a clue Lady Holbrook was involved, and I met with her and Holbrook regularly.” He shook his head. “On the one hand, I can still barely believe it, but on the other, I can. She was always so much more...grasping than he.”
Robert returned to his earlier line of thought. “At the moment, I have all the help I need. My orders more or less forbid me to engage, so having an extra sword isn’t going to make a difference. But thinking ahead, having you on the ground here, keeping your eyes and ears open...at some point, once we have the location of the mine, I imagine a force will be sent in to liberate it. And given the issues in the settlement, that force will almost certainly arrive direct from London. They’ll need help—the sort of help you will be perfectly positioned to give.”
Babington nodded. “Very well. I’ll keep my head down, eyes open, and ears flapping. However...” His eyes narrowed. He tapped one fingernail on the now empty glass in his hands. Slowly, he smiled, although there was no humor in the expression. “One thing I can do that would be entirely in character—all but routine, or at least I could make it appear so—is to run checks on the cargoes being loaded into certain holds. Even when a ship is sailing for some port not in England, we will occasionally run a spot check, just to make sure there are no goods marked to be shipped on.”
Babington met Robert’s gaze. “I agree with Declan that the most likely enterprise at the bottom of this scheme is a diamond mine. And if it’s diamonds, the shipments will be headed to Amsterdam. I can search all ships bound for that area. I’ll disguise it as some sort of crackdown due to something or other—easy enough for me to fabricate a cause.”
“What about Macauley?”
“He tends to leave the day-to-day business to me, while he massages the politicians and the relevant authorities.” Babington’s lips twisted. “It’s an arrangement that works for both of us and, in this case, leaves me free to make it harder for our villains to clear their ill-gotten goods.”
“Interfering with their logistics in such a way...” Robert narrowed his eyes as he contemplated that, then he nodded decisively. “As long as you can make it seem entirely due to some other unconnected reason, putting that sort of pressure on the villains’ plans might well unsettle them, might even force them to act in some way they haven’t planned, which can only be to our advantage.”
Babington nodded. “There’ll be no risk to the captives as long as the villains have no reason to imagine their game has been uncovered. They’ll merely see my efforts as an annoying and unhelpful nuisance.” He grinned coldly. “I’ll certainly be doing my best to make that so.”
After a moment, Babington asked, “So where do you intend to start your search for the slavers’ trail?”
The question brought Robert back to his day. He’d told Babington of Lashoria’s claim of the slavers being connected with Undoto. Now he filled Babington in about what he’d found when he’d visited Lashoria.
Babington listened in stoic silence. Robert ended his tale with the old woman’s information about the slave trader Kale. Babington nodded. “As I said, the locals hate them, but they’re generally too afraid to make any sort of move against them, not even to pass on information.”
Robert exhaled and sat up. “So I’m going to start with Undoto, because he appears to be the only lead I have. Can you add anything to what I already know about him?”
Babington shook his head. “I’ve been to only one of his services—I never saw the point. But Mary liked them—she said it was the drama.” Babington’s voice had grown cold. “If it turns out it was that—her going to his services—that led to her being taken—”
“He’ll pay.”
Babington’s lips curved menacingly. “Indeed, he will.”
Deciding to ignore that, Robert said, “One thing Lashoria’s old servant stressed was how very different this scheme was to the usual sort of slavery practiced hereabouts.”
Babington nodded. “It is. Normally these days, those seized by the slavers are tribesmen from deep in the interior. The slavers walk them out, then load them onto ships well away from any of the settlements. Coming anywhere near Freetown—well, it’s the base for the governor and the squadron, so for slavers, that’s akin to asking to be caught and clapped in irons themselves. But in this case, they’re taking Europeans, and not just men but young women and children, too, and it seems they’re taking them out of the settlement and into the jungle—and, if the assumption of a mine is correct, they’re using them here, not shipping them out for sale far away. It’s a very different kind of trade.”
After a moment, Babington said, “If
