Horacio Ashmont's Arc

Chapter 6 of 12

Horacio climbed back up to street level and pulled the manhole cover into place. The metal scraped against stone, louder than he'd have liked. He needed to check the warehouse entrance before bringing the others down to the storm cellar—make certain no one had disturbed it since the developer's visit. He reached the warehouse just as a carriage rolled to a stop two buildings down. The horse stamped its hooves on the cobblestones. A man in dark clothing stepped out, carrying a ledger under one arm. Horacio recognized the sharp features and narrow shoulders. Scrooge. The moneylender walked toward the grand townhouse with the ornate brick facade, the one that had belonged to a merchant before debts swallowed him whole. Horacio's stomach dropped. That building shared a wall with the warehouse. If Scrooge poked around the connecting cellar, he'd find the tunnel entrance. Horacio slipped through the warehouse's side door and descended to the lower level. A torn mattress lay against the far wall where Young Tom had slept two nights ago, the striped ticking exposed through rips in the fabric. A blanket sat bunched on top. He grabbed both and shoved them behind a stack of barrels, then kicked straw and debris over the spot where the mattress had rested. Footsteps echoed through the wall from the townhouse cellar. Scrooge was already inside, moving closer to the partition. Horacio pressed his ear to the brick. The footsteps stopped just on the other side. He held his breath. A long silence followed, broken only by the scratch of a pen on paper. Then the steps retreated back toward the townhouse stairs. Horacio waited until he heard nothing, then climbed back to street level and watched through a gap in the boards as Scrooge emerged from the townhouse and returned to his carriage. The moneylender hadn't found the tunnel, but he'd come close enough that Horacio's hands still shook. He'd need to move everyone tonight, before Scrooge came back with workmen to survey his new property.