“I thought you’d come here,” Kate said. “I could always anticipate your movements, John Smith or Yellowhammer, whichever name you prefer.”
Smith calculated the odds. One of the men moved like a soldier, holding his pistol with professional ease; that would be Harkness. The other had the evilest face Smith had ever seen, with basilisk eyes and a mouth like a man-trap.
“We’ve been searching for you, Kate,” Smith said, feeling the comforting weight of his pistol inside his coat. “And the soldier is Private Harkness, late of the 34th Foot.” He stepped back slightly to shield Bess, giving her time to draw her blunderbuss. “The other fellow, I don’t know.”
“Ned Hind,” Hind introduced himself. “You may know my name.”
Edward Hind, a triple murderer with a reputation for brutality.
Edward Hind
