He sighed. "Mainly powdered willow bark, as I said. And something a friend of mine picked up in Germany, a mild stimulant derived from a tropical leaf. Nothing to be concerned about."
"Doesn't seem very mild to me. How much did you take?"
"What a nagging old granny you sound. Enough to get the job done."
"And after that, I suppose I'll have to scrape you from the cobblestones."
"Oh, I have Barker for that."
They climbed in silence until the final stretch, when James placed a hand on her arm. "We ought to have a plan."
"We don't even know what to expect. We'd need to know that before making a plan."
"Well, here's my theory: Harkness and Keenan are up there, conducting their business. I'd like to know whether Harkness is truly involved with the thefts, and to what extent. Let's get close and listen for as long we can before having to act."
"Of course. But what do you intend to do, at that point?"
"Hold him until the police arrive."
"Hold Keenan? Good luck."
"The two of us together – three, perhaps…"
Mary looked at him. His eyes were very bright, even by gaslight. Glittering with suppressed fever, perhaps – but more likely the effects of that stimulant. He was vibrating with impatience and excitement, a rather un-James-like condition. She suddenly wondered if he'd be the steady, intelligent ally she had assumed – and then set aside that doubt. There simply wasn't time for it. Whatever happened, whatever he did, she would simply have to improvise and hope for the best.
As they crept up the final few steps, Mary was very glad she'd been up once before. The sun would now be low on the horizon and she was uncertain of how well lit the belfry might be. Without a rough idea of its dimensions and layout, she'd have no idea what she was seeing and almost no chance of remaining unseen. It hardly counted as an advantage, but it comforted her nevertheless.
"Mary?" James was so close behind her that his whisper tickled her ear.
"Yes?"
"My physician warned me sternly against excitement of any sort."
She almost giggled. "Shut up, James."
"Can you see anything?"
"No, and I can't hear, either!"
But suddenly, she could. Male voices, clear and close by.
"You paying or not? I ain't got all night."
"Neither have I, Keenan." Harkness sounded oddly calm. "Neither have I."
The voices were so near that Mary instinctively shrank back into the warmth of James's body. He placed a hand on her shoulder. If it was meant to comfort, it did rather the reverse: his fingers trembled, very subtly and very quickly, and she wondered again about those powders he'd taken. She'd never noticed his hands shake before – had marvelled, rather, at their steadiness under pressure. Tonight they vibrated.
"Well then?"
"Oh, you'll get what you deserve, Keenan. I'll make sure of that."
"You ain't threatening me, Harkness. I ain't afraid of you."
"Ah – and here is what's interesting: I'm no longer afraid of you."
There was a pause.
"You didn't think of that, did you? What happens when silly old Harkness is no longer frightened of you?"
Another pause.
"No smart rejoinder from you, Keenan? You're not generally short of one."
"Stop your blathering: you paying up or not?"
"I'm not." Harkness took a deep breath, and Mary heard the smile in his voice. "Did you hear me? I'm not going to pay you any longer, you blackmailing devil."
James sucked in his breath sharply. Mary tensed – it sounded loud in her ear – but Keenan and Harkness continued, fully absorbed in their exchange.
"I did a few sums earlier today," said Harkness conversationally. "D'you know how much you bled me for, Keenan? The total of what I've paid you and Wick both, these past ten months?" He didn't wait for a reply. "It seemed quite manageable, at first, one pound a week. Then two. Even five. I could manage five, although I expect it was divided between you three, so to you it didn't seem so splendid after a while. It was ten pounds – ten pounds a week! – that broke me. Such a paltry sum, really: a couple of new dresses for my daughters, the cost of a party given by my wife. But all told it came to more than two hundred pounds.
"And here's what I'd like to know: I can see how I'd have spent it. I've a wife and family. Daughters are expensive and sons even more so. And I suppose Wick had a family, too – poor souls. But what did you do with your eighty pounds, Keenan? That's what I can't understand."
"Go to hell," snarled Keenan. "If you don't pay up, you know what'll happen to you."
"The question of hell is in the hands of the Almighty. But you might have gathered by now, Keenan, that I'm no longer afraid of what you might do to me. In fact, I'm almost looking forward to it."
There followed a long silence, during which Mary carefully leaned past the doorway at the top of the stairs. James did likewise. The two men were, as she'd imagined, in a far corner of the belfry. Harkness had his hands braced against the half-wall, as though he were admiring the effects of sunset over the London streets. His posture was deceptively casual but the set of his shoulders, hunched and stiff, revealed his underlying tension. In contrast Keenan, who stood facing him, leaned slightly forward, poised for a physical struggle. Yet there was a curious rigidity in his stance, as though he didn't know how to manage the situation before him. Harkness's desperate serenity robbed him of his most effective weapon: the threat of violence.
"Then why'd you call me here?" growled Keenan. He clenched and unclenched his fists as though he could feel Harkness's soft, loose neck between his fingers.
"Why, to tell you of my decision, of course."
"Up here? What's wrong with the office?"
Harkness smiled and looked out over the city. "It's a beautiful evening. I wanted to enjoy the view."
"I don't give a damn about the view."
"You might, if you consider what your future holds."
"What's that, then?"
"Breaking stones, at best."
For just a moment, Keenan blinked with surprise. Then, he gave a sudden bark of laughter. "You outdone yourself there, Harky. Don't you know if I go to gaol, you're going too? I'd lie myself black in the face to see you get more time than me."