“No better way to transport her stolen goods,” Jin said, grim.
Flick made a face as though she’d swallowed something sour. The girl had been on her way to separating herself from her mother quite well, until they’d learned Lady Linden was the Ram. In Arthie’s eyes, that should have only deepened the divide between them, but she supposed it would take time. Arthie’s own parents had been dead for ten years and she still thought of them.
As promised, Willard was waiting near his office. He tipped his head when Arthie approached with Flick’s forged letter. He read it, and Arthie saw his lips purse as he did. He was impressed.
“The dockmaster’s just arrived,” he said, making no mention of the forged letter and assessing the others as he spoke. “I’ll hand this to him, convey that the ship is due for inspection, and clear the deck. Then you and I are finished.”
“I want the ship emptied too, if you recall. You’ll also put a hold on any and all documents pertaining to the vessel,” Arthie reminded him. “Send word to my colleague here, and do as she asks.”
He looked at Flick. “Her?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Arthie saw Jin stir, about to blow the entire operation to the sea before Matteo held him back with a subtle shift of his shoulder in front of him.
“Yes,her,” Arthie said, surprising herself with the confidence she had in Flick.
“Very well,” Willard said, and nodded to his men who were waiting just out of earshot. They leaped to attention, quickly unwinding a length of bright rope to cordon off the pier.
Arthie pulled the others off to the shaded cover of freshly netted shipping crates.
“How did you get an inspector in your pocket?” Matteo asked. “They’re typically as clean as they come.”
“He is,” Arthie admitted. “But his son isn’t.”
“No one we need to take care of, is there?” Matteo asked, a flash of darkness zipping through his green gaze. He traced down her form with concern. And Arthie, well, Arthie looked away because she didn’t hate it.
“Shh,” Jin hissed. “The dockmaster.”
Arthie leaned close to the edge of the crates as the dockmastershook Willard’s hand and gestured to the ship. “Apologies, inspector. This one’s already checked and approved.”
Willard nodded, touching the brim of his hat. “It’s dated a month ago, good sir. Policies are changing, and I’ve begun a series of exhaustive inspections after certain hooligans ran amuck a few weeks ago.”
The dockmaster laughed. “This is an EJC vessel, sir. I can assure you no one runs amuck.”
“I’m aware,” Willard replied, pulling out the folded document. The dockmaster scanned it, and Arthie saw his gaze drop to the bottom, where Flick’s forged signature burned bold with instructions to vacate the ship and berth until further notice. “By order of the Ram.”
The dockmaster scratched his scruff. “I’ll need to write to the head office.”
Willard paused and wet his lips. Arthie waited, jaw set. She was more than happy to expose the junior Otis, but she needed that ship.
“No need,” Willard finally said. “As part of the reworked policies, I will reach out to the EJC offices directly. Oh, and if you can sign here for me, that will cover it.”
“What am I signing?” the dockmaster asked, barely reading it over.
“Simply a disclosure saying that I informed you of the inspection and the next steps in the process.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the man scribbled his signature. It was a sham, more so Flick had his signature to add to her records, but also in part so the dockmaster would sleep easier knowing he’d signed away the responsibilities.
He gave Willard a tight smile. “Right, I’ll clear it out.”
“Much obliged,” said the inspector, and it wasn’t long before the dockmaster cleared both the ship and the pier, not noticing when one of Sidharth’s runners trailed the cargo route, scratching his scruff againwhen the inspector told him he would berth the ship elsewhere for the duration of the inspection.
He looked ready for his part in this to be over, which Arthie took as another good sign. Though the more seamlessly this went, the more dread pooled in her stomach.
“It’s yours,” Willard said, coming over to them. “Crewless and cargo-less. I don’t know what you’re planning, Casimir, but I want no part in it.”
“You won’t have any part in it,” Arthie replied. “We have a deal, and I keep my word.”
It was too late for him to back away now, and with a grimace, he realized it too.
