Alathea's eyes dimmed. "He killed the captain. He said so."
Chillingworth cast a dark glance at Crowley's body. "Obviously destined for Hades."
Gabriel caught Alathea's wrist. "Are you sure the captain's dead? Crowley didn't just say it to frighten you?"
Alathea shook her head sadly. "I think he's already thrown the body in the river."
Gabriel caressed her inner wrist, then released her.
Chillingworth grimaced. "Nothing we can do for the captain now. The villain's already savored his just deserts. The best way to avenge the captain's death is to make sure Crowley's scheme dies with him." He pulled out a desk drawer. "You sure these notes will be here?"
"I expect so." Gabriel looked around. "This is not a ship of any line-it's a privateer, and a small one at that, built for speed-for fleeing. My guess is that Crowley moved his operations here, ready to depart at an instant's notice. With Alathea and Struthers removed, he would plan on calling in the notes immediately, and leaving England as soon as he had his hands on the cash."
Alathea started to bind his arm. "Crowley did say he'd call the notes in immediately."
Chillingworth continued searching t
he desk. Charlie drifted off, saying he'd search the other rooms.
Just as Alathea was tying off her bandage, Charlie reappeared, dragging a small seaman's chest. He brandished a document. "I think this is what we're looking for."
It was-a thick stack of promissory notes filled the chest. Alathea held the one Charlie had brought in, and started to shake. Gabriel slid an arm around her waist, drawing her closer until she rested against him. 'Take it home, show your father, then burn it."
Alathea glanced at him, then nodded. Folding the note, she handed it to Charlie with a strict injunction not to lose it.
Charlie shoved it in his pocket, then went back to reading the names on the handful of notes he'd extracted from the chest.
Chillingworth was doing the same. "He preyed on small fry, for the most part. From the addresses, some of these must be shopkeepers." He pointed to another pile he'd laid aside. "Those are the peers, but most are not the sort who usually invest in such schemes. And the amounts pledged! He'd have turned half of England insolvent."
Gabriel nodded. "Greedy and unscrupulous. That should be his epitath."
"So." Chillingworth restacked the notes. "What are we going to do? Burn these?"
"No." Alathea was frowning. "If we do that, then the people involved will never know they're free of the obligation. They might make decisions assuming they're in debt to Crowley, when that debt will never be realized."
"Are the addresses on all the notes?" Gabriel asked.
"Far as I can see," Charlie replied. Chillingworth nodded.
"Perhaps…" Gabriel stared into the distance. "Find something to wrap them in. I'll take them to Montague. He'll know how best to return them to their owners, apparently properly and legally canceled."
"Our petition, if successful, will cancel the notes." Alathea looked at Gabriel.
He shook his head. "We won't be lodging it. We won't be doing anything to link ourselves with Crowley."
"No, indeed." Chillingworth glanced at the body on the floor. "So what should we do with him? Simply leave him here?"
"Why not? He's got enemies aplenty. He doubtless gave orders to his crew to stay away from the ship tonight."
"All except the guard," Charlie put in. "But he never even saw you."
Gabriel nodded. "Two of the sailors-the ones who delivered the note-will know Alathea was lured here, but no one will know anything more. No woman could have overpowered Crowley. When his men return to the ship, they'll find him here, alone and very dead. They'll assume Alathea left, and then someone killed Crowley."
"I sincerely doubt anyone will mourn him."
"Other than perhaps Archie Douglas, although even that's uncertain."
"Crowley probably had his hooks into him, too."