Blood Tribute (The Lucas Gedge Thrillers Book 1) Read Free

Should we follow them to see which particular establishment they are heading for?’
    ‘No, Polly. We must leave further investigations here to our Belgian friends. We have followed their trail from Wapping Stairs, but this disease must be attacked back at its source, in our very own East End.’
    Rondeau eased himself away from the open window. Despite the late hour, it was unusually mild for November, and he hadn’t had to resort to his thickest winter coat for the trip.
    ‘Well, this little spying mission has been tiring for me, my dear. What do you say to a coffee and a tot of brandy in a little café I know, before we sail back across the channel?’

3
    T he sailing barge Saint Claire cleaved through the turgid brown water of the Thames. Lucas Gedge, leaning over the bow rail, could just make out the blocky warehouses and wharves lining both banks, as the dawn brightened the eastern horizon behind him. A breeze along the river blew strands of unkempt hair across his face, and caused his long overcoat to flap around his shins. Not a natural sailor, Gedge was grateful that the Channel had been calm on the journey over from France.
    As they rounded a curve in the river, Loic, the barge’s master, came to join him in looking out over the rail. He pointed straight ahead.
    ‘See up there? The bridges!’
    Gedge could just make out several lines across the water, like faint strings of pearls. London Bridge, the Cannon Street Railway Bridge and Southwark Bridge, he guessed. They spent several minutes contemplating the scene before Loic spoke.
    ‘Pardon me, Monsieur Gedge. I notice that you wear a charm. The image of the man carrying a child across a river. The patron saint of travellers, I think?’
    ‘That’s right. It’s my link to my daughter. She has an identical one. Or at least she did. I’ve seen her so little over the years, I can’t even be sure of that.’
    ‘When a man makes his living serving his country in far-flung lands, it can take its toll at home. But now you will be reunited? What is her name?’
    ‘Hannah. She’s sixteen now. She’s the reason I’m returning to London. I’m more or less estranged from her mother Maggie, but I’m determined to try to make up for my failures with Hannah in whatever way I can, whether Maggie wants to know me or not.’
    ‘I wish you luck, Monsieur. Family is the most important thing in life.’
    Loic pointed to the northern bank, to starboard. ‘We are nearly at our destination. Just over there, at the wharves in Wapping, is where we will come alongside. Monsieur Rondeau’s man will meet you.’
    Beyond the anonymous dockside buildings, but a little further along on the same bank, Gedge could make out the distinctive shape of the Tower of London. He had spent little time in his country’s capital. Hailing from Devon, he had joined the army and spent much of his life abroad on active service, and for a number of years on what could be described as secret service; far, far away from his native land. Maggie had been his childhood sweetheart, and they had married during an extended period of leave, early in his army career. They’d had Hannah not long after, but the marriage had stood little chance with home leave increasingly rare. He was only glad that Hannah had seemed impervious to her mother’s bitterness towards him, and had always shown deep joy whenever he did manage to actually show up. The resilience of the young, he assumed.
    He had heard countless tales about London, of course. It was both the biggest city in the world, and the hub of an empire that covered half of it. And the River Thames was an important cog in the engine driving that empire’s business. It was relatively quiet at this early hour, but soon it would be throbbing with activity. Already, on their journey from the estuary, they had passed docksides stretching for dozens of miles, especially along the northern bank. And there were yet more upstream. All of the docks were engaged in