But as I said, I was fond of the rooks. I found an open file and stood them one behind the other, a solid menace. Using these rooks, I took pawn after pawn, then his knights, and finally, his queen.
End game. Creasey and I faced off, I with a pawn and a rook guarding my king, and he with the same.
My pawn was a step away from being made a queen. Creasey couldn’t stop it, so he checked my king with his rook. I calmly moved my king one square aside. He chased it, checking again and again, until my king stood in front of my pawn.
One more check, and then I moved my rook one square in front of my king, blocking any more checks. Creasey roared his rage. No matter what he did, I’d move my pawn to the last square, make it a queen, and then have no mercy on him.
“Mate in four,” I said.
He tried. A reasonable player would resign, shake my hand, and send me off. Creasey decided to try to run his rook around mine and bring his king into the battle. I picked up the white queen, deciding not to comment on the irony that I’d brought him a white queen to signal Denis’s challenge weeks ago, and set it on the board in place of my pawn.
In three more moves, I had his king cornered, while his rook desperately tried to defend.
He lifted my king and hurled it across the room.
“Checkmate,” I said softly.
“How?” Creasey’s face was red, his mouth quivering. “When you first played me, you made mistake after mistake. How did you become a master in so short a time?”
I shrugged. “I was humoring you. I feared that if I played like a true opponent, I would anger you, with dire consequence to me. Also, it was true, I hadn’t had a game in a long time, and I wasn’t certain I remembered the strategies correctly. Since then I have studied to refresh my memory.”
“But you could not,” Creasey bellowed before he forced himself to calm. “No one can move from rustic bumbler to expert in a matter of weeks. No matter how many books you read.”
“That is so.” I leaned back in my chair, resting my hands on the stout walking stick, feigning relaxation, in spite of my pounding heart. “Have you heard of Monsieur Philidor?”
“Philidor?” Creasey asked in amazement. “Of course I have. I’ve watched him play, in Paris and in London, at Parloe’s chess club. None could touch him.” Creasey’s eyes widened. “Are you saying he was your teacher?”
“Not at all. I was at Cambridge when he died as an émigré. I joined the army soon after that. Six years later I was in Paris. My teacher was one of Philidor’s pupils. The chap knew everything Philidor did, but he was hard up—it was difficult to make a living as a chess master at that time. To pass the hours, I let him teach me.” Eden handed me the king Creasey had thrown in his pique and I stood the beautiful jade piece on its home square. “I let him teach me everything.”
“You lied to me.”
“Not at all.” I rose, hoping I hid my trembling well. “You assumed, and I did not correct you.”
“Man of honor, pah.”
“I always keep my word. Now, we agreed that if I won, I and my son and my friends were free to go. That you would withdraw for now.”
“Oh, yes. So I did.”
He would not let us leave so easily, I knew. I was poised to tear across the room and snatch up Peter while Brewster cleared a path for our escape, when the door flew open.
On the threshold was Lucius Grenville, pistol in hand. With him, to my immense dismay, was Donata. Behind the two of them were a contingent of Denis’s men, grim-faced and ready for battle.
Peter saw Donata. “Mum!” he shouted.
No one could stop her. Donata was through the crowded room and to her son, gathering him in her arms.
“Peter, love. It’s all right. I’m here.”
Creasey’s men regarded Donata in some awe, probably shocked she had the temerity to invade this place. Donata straightened, holding Peter, and sent Creasey a gaze that could scorch him to nothing.
“As for you,” she said in her clear voice. “I will have the law on you, for kidnapping, holding my son hostage, and any other crime I might think of. You will never, ever, touch any of my family again.”
Donata was usually cool as an icicle, but when she became enraged, lesser men fled out of her way. Creasey was a hard being, but even he regarded her with his jaw slack, uncertain how to respond.
I moved from the game table to the door, which Brewster had sidled toward while we’d played. He’d let none prevent us from leaving.
Donata did not wait for me. She marched out, Grenville behind her like a sentinel.
“You made one mistake,” I told Creasey in a mild tone. “You upset my wife. She is a very powerful woman, connected to still more powerful men. There will not be many places you can hide from her. The queen, you know, is the strongest piece on the board. Good morning, Mr. Creasey. Thank you for the match.”
I was proud of the little speech and made certain not to ruin it by immediately departing. Eden came behind me.
“Good Lord, Lacey, I thought you’d have us all killed.”
“And we might still be if we do not make haste,” I said. “Brewster,” I called softly behind me.
I heard voices inside Creasey’s office, Denis discussing something with him. I wondered if Creasey would reinstate his truce with Denis if we actually escaped this building.
Brewster did not follow until Denis exited the office unimpeded. Denis’s men surrounded him, enclosing him like pawns around a king.
Creasey’s men let us pass. The sun had risen, and the dim light from the end of the building showed us a horde of them, poised in the shadows. But we moved through and down the stairs without hindrance.
On the ground floor, Denis, striding swiftly, caught up to me. Grenville and Donata, slower with Donata carrying Peter, were just ahead of us.
“Thought I’d soil myself when you took him up on the game,” Brewster said. “You’re a dark horse, ain’t ye, guv?”
Denis moved past us. “We can discuss it later, gentlemen. For now we should move quickly. Quite quickly.”
My heart constricted. “What did you do?” I asked.
Denis did not answer. He hastened his steps, and around us, his men broke into a run.
I hobbled forward as fast as I could. Denis joined Grenville, wrapping an arm around Donata and pulling her onward at a faster pace. Brewster did the same with me, nearly carrying me by the time we burst out of the dark warehouse and into the morning light.
“Do not stop.” Denis kept hold of Donata, who was being very quiet. Peter was too, sensing the danger.
“Better do as he says, guv.” Brewster dragged me onward. Eden took my other arm, the two of them almost pulling me off my feet.
As soon as we reached the mouth of the lane, a huge explosion sounded behind us. The draft shot us out into the road, bricks and pieces of board hurtling toward us and flying along the cobbles.
I turned. Black smoke poured from the building that had housed Creasey, and flames sprang up behind the windows. Screams and shouts erupted from Lower Thames Street, and then the common folk of London rushed toward the conflagration, joining to form a bucket chain to squelch the fire as swiftly as they could.
CHAPTER 23