eyed it and said, “Well, it looks like he’s still alive, at least. You do realize that I will have to lie to him?”
“About what?” she asked.
“About how we found him. I don’t want him spooked.”
“If you say so.”
“I just hope he buys it,” said Hayes. “And that he’s off his game.”
They walked on until a small gray house emerged from underneath the boughs. It had not been well cared for. Several shutters were missing and the front garden was filled with weeds. Off to the side someone had made a fire pit, but it had not been used in a long time. There was the glint of glass from around its edge and Samantha saw the snouts of liquor bottles poking up from the grass.
Hayes walked up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. Then he tried the knob, found the door was unlocked, and pushed it open.
“You’re going in?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Won’t he be mad?”
“Maybe,” he said, and walked in. She waited a moment and then followed.
Inside it was dank and dark and smelled of spoiled alcohol and cheap cigarettes. The curtains were pulled shut over all the windows and empty bottles lay on the floor, on the tables, sometimes in the chairs. Hayes walked to the living room, cleared a seat, and sat and began to wait. Samantha cleared her own space on the sofa and did the same. Like the rest of the house, the room had not been taken care of. Old, musty paintings hung on the walls, most of them of England, or English countrysides. The white cliffs of Dover had grown a dull gray with dust on one wall. On another a cracked, faded team of men on horseback trumpeted and called for a missing fox, with lumps of beagles bawling about the legs of their horses.
“When do you think he’ll be back?” Samantha asked.
“He’s here right now,” Hayes said.
“What?”
“He’s here right now. He saw us coming, I think. He won’t show until he’s sure it’s safe.” Then he sighed and leaned his head on his hand.
“You don’t want to see this man, do you?”
“No. No, I really do not.”
Nearly an hour passed. Hayes seemed more awake than she had ever seen him. Samantha shifted on her seat, uncomfortable. After a while she reached under the cushion and retrieved a long, heavy bullet of a massive caliber, thicker than her finger and longer than a half a foot. It was as though it’d been lost and forgotten under the cushion. She could not imagine the gun or barrel it matched. Hayes glanced at her, saw her holding the huge round, and shook his head. She replaced it, and was on the verge of suggesting they leave when a voice behind her said, “You know, breaking and entering is considered fairly impolite in most civilized circles.”
She turned and saw there was a man leaning up against the doorway behind her. He was tall and thin and dark, with pepper-gray hair and a black mustache and a sharp, smart smile. He wore a white sleeveless shirt and gray slacks and thick leather boots, the suspenders dangling beside his thighs. There was something very starved about him, a frailness about the eyes that spoke of days without sunlight or warmth. Samantha put him in his late forties or fifties, and she was not sure why but she immediately identified him as a soldier, yet once she did she found it hard to imagine him ever fighting for any country or creed.
“It’s also impolite to run away when you see guests approaching,” Hayes said.
The man nodded. “I suppose. I suppose. Though you could have called ahead,” he said, his slight Cockney drawl becoming more pronounced. “It’s not often my oldest, dearest little comrade comes to visit me. I could’ve tidied the place up.”
A few awkward beats passed. Then he smiled more widely and said, “Oh, it’s nice to see you again, little Hayseed. I see you still haven’t grown any.”
Hayes tilted his head. “Hello, Spinsie. How are you these days?”
“I’m decent, little brother. Decent.”
“How are the cats? Rufus and Rudolph, yes? I didn’t see them.”
“They’re around. They come in when they feel like it, which isn’t often. Plenty of small things to torture and devour in the fields around here. They leave them on the doorstep, don’t know why.”
“Trophies, probably,” Hayes said. “Showing off to you.”
“Probably.” He laughed. “Oh, it’s been a donkey’s age, hasn’t it? When’s the last time we met, little brother? I can barely recall.”
“A year, I’d think. In Dockland.”
“I don’t remember that. What’d we talk about?”
“Not much, Spinsie. I don’t think you were quite speaking yet.”
The smile vanished. His eyes grew sharp and flicked to Samantha, then back to Hayes. “Yeah. I wouldn’t have been, not then. Well, now. What brings you to these inhospitable reaches, little brother? Why’ve you disturbed my peaceful retirement?”
“I’m sorry if we disturbed you, but to be honest, Spinsie, I’m here because, well, I don’t quite think you’re retired.”
The man nodded, then took a step into the room and eyed Samantha. “I see I’ve missed someone. Don’t believe we’ve met before.” He turned gracefully and put his hand out. “Corporal Michael Spinsten. Former, of course, but still at your service, miss.”
“Samantha Fairbanks,” she said, extending her hand to him. He bowed and took it and kissed her knuckles, then looked up along her arm.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Mind if I ask who you know my little brother as? His name, I mean, just for posterity? I’d hate to interrupt any of his plans.”
“His name?” Samantha said, confused. “To me he’s simply Mr. Hayes.”
“Is that so?” Spinsie said, turning to Hayes. “Using your real name with her? Getting soft, Hayseed. Getting very soft.”
“Perhaps,” Hayes said. “Why don’t you take a seat, Spinsie? This is your house, after all.”
“Yeah. It is.” He sat down next to Samantha. Then he picked up a pipe from the table before him, produced a penknife from his pocket, and began to scrape out the bowl. “So you don’t think this is a life of retirement, comrade?”
“No,” said Hayes. “I don’t.”
“What makes you think such a thing?”
“You want me to list the reasons?”
“If you please.”
“Fine,” said Hayes. He settled into a more comfortable position. “I don’t think you’re retired, Spinsie, because rumor has it someone moved a large amount of raw bullion through Lynn seven months ago, and I know you always specialized in that. And rumor has it that the man they arrested and prosecuted for it is perfectly innocent of the crime, and that the bills they seized in his apartments were mostly counterfeit garbage. And it’s also rumored that that same week a coffee shop in one of the shadier parts of Dockland suddenly closed down, but to be honest, well, none of the locals ever recalled it selling much coffee. Lots of shipping, though. Lots of boxes. It just came and went, they said. All of that would be why, Spinsie.”
Spinsie nodded along happily as if they were discussing the weather. He packed the bowl, then lit a match and sucked at it until he was satisfied. “You’re remarkably well connected these days, aren’t you, Hayseed.”
“I do all right.”
“Yes. You’re the little king of Evesden, aren’t you.”
“I don’t think I would go quite that far.”
“Maybe the court adviser, then. Surprising, really. When I first found you in Delhi you didn’t seem to have a thought in your head. Ambling around, living on scraps. Never thought you’d come so far.”
“Delhi was a long time ago.”
“Yeah. It was.” He coughed harshly and rubbed his nose in a quick, ferret-like gesture. “So. You got a few suspicions about me sneaking in gold in the dead of night. Is that what you’re here about, little brother?”
“Not especially, to be honest,” said Hayes. “I’m more interested in recent activity.”
