Chapter 9 – Penn Pays His Respects

The assault was a bold one. A glass panel on the back door was smashed. The chauffeur was asleep on the third floor and heard nothing. Eleanor, who had been restless and exhausted for days, also managed to sleep through it. But the four men on watch all heard it.

Edward was walking the first floor. He went to the back hall and found three men dressed in dark clothes coming through the door. Their boots crunched as they walked over the shattered glass.

The first of the burglars said in a pleasant voice, “Good evening!”

The other two men jumped him.

Edward struggled, but the sudden attack robbed him of his initiative. It was only a few seconds before he was bound and gagged. The burglars tossed him into the kitchen and shut the door.

When they turned, they found the gardener standing there. The lead burglar threw a hard punch from his shoulder, through the gardener’s jaw.

The man hit the floor.

“I’m sorry,” the burglar said, “but you should know better than to surprise a fellow. A man gets jumpy in the dark.” He nodded to his two companions. They trussed up the gardener and left him with the baron.

When the two of them went to join their associate, they found him in the front hall, staring around at the furniture and embellishments of the house.

“What a lovely place! We should have visited sooner.”

One of the other men chuckled.

“Ah, well. We have business to attend to.”

The burglar turned in time to see a glint of moonlight, shining through the glass of the front door, catch on a cuff link. He pushed the punch to the side and buried his fist in the man’s ribs.

“You have velvet feet! My hat off to—”

He couldn’t finish the compliment; he had to dodge the next attack. When he danced back, the light caught on the teeth of his smile.

The other two burglars stepped in from behind. It took both of them to hold Taylor still long enough their leader could sweep out his legs. The butler was not a small man, but he wasn’t large enough to manage all three of them.

Taylor was put in the closet under the stairs. He struggled and rolled until he could see the silhouette in the door.

“I’m impressed, sir,” the thief said. “You’re the kind of opponent that makes a man grateful he has friends. Perhaps we can spar another time.”

The door closed. Taylor was left in pitch darkness.

The man went to join his friends.

“Well?” he whispered.

“We’re all right, Mr. Penn,” the taller of the two figures said. “How’d they get that fighter? He’s not police.”

Penn scoffed. “Never.”

“How many left, do you think?” the last of the burglars asked.

“Tired already, Jeremy?” Penn clapped his friend on the back.

“Nah. I’m all right, Mr. Penn.”

“There’s at least the duke, and if I know my man, he won’t bother with fists. He’ll have a gun.”

“And Haley?” The unnamed thief sounded nervous.

“At home.” Penn rubbed his hands together. “All right, boys, how do we want to handle His Grace?”

“Divide and conquer?” Jeremy suggested.

Penn nodded. “Good. Which stairs do you want—front or back?”

“Front,” Penn’s friends said in unison.

“Oh, fine. Remember, don’t get shot. By the by, how’s the leg, Stewart?”

“All the better for your asking,” Stewart grumbled.

Penn put a hand on the shoulder of each of his comrades. “If I don’t see you in a few minutes, I’ll see you in hell.”

“Yeah. We’ll look for you on the throne.”

Penn grinned, then turned toward the back stairs.

As he went up the stairs on hands and knees, he thought about what a crime it was that your head always came into view first when you were assaulting the high ground.

There was a light above him. Penn moved to the edge of the stairwell and crept up until he could barely peer over the last step. Judging by the size of the man standing in the hall, it was Duke Aubrey-Serrs. In one hand, the duke held a cold blast lantern. In the other, he held a revolver. He waited with his eyes fixed on the back stairs.

This was the most ticklish part of the whole game. Bullets tended to take the fun out of everything. Especially if you encountered one moving in excess of six hundred feet per second. That kind of rendezvous could ruin a man’s whole day.

Since the top of his head was still intact, Penn assumed Aubrey-Serrs hadn’t spotted him. Penn would have to remain where he was. Having his hair in sight was less dangerous than lowering himself even an inch. They always saw movement first.

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A man holding himself up on half-extended arms is not the best judge of how much time has passed, but by Ryce’s calculations, a million years went by before he heard the noise he’d been waiting for.

Knock-knock-knock.

The duke whirled around to face the front of the house. When he turned, Penn crept up the last of the stairs and flattened himself against a dark wall. Then he rapped on the wood behind him.

Knock-knock-knock.

Aubrey-Serrs whipped around to face the other way. The lantern he was holding swung on its handle, and the light swung with it.

Knock-knock-knock.

It came from the front stairs. Penn was able to creep four feet closer before the duke turned back.

The thief tapped the toe of his shoe this time.

Knock-knock-knock.

Knock-knock-knock.

By now His Grace had figured out their trick. He stood sideways between the two parties.

Penn smiled. They all did that. Did they really think it would help? Only if they’d grown eyes on the sides of their head.

He kept knocking each time he advanced and froze. Stewart and Jeremy did the same. The hurried knocking rained around the increasingly furious duke, and then—

Knock-knock-knock.

The last sounding came from both directions at the same time.

Aubrey-Serrs was jumped from both sides. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.