“I discovered some information that might be useful. At least, I think it might be.” She wrinkled her brow in uncertainty.
“What is it?”
“I was in the kitchen the other day when one of our delivery men arrived. He mentioned that his son had found good employment with a small shipping crew running late night shipments to France.”
“Why would that make you suspicious?” Kane didn’t see a connection.
“The man said his son mentioned they aren’t allowed to see the cargo, and an agent for the company that hired them locks the doors to the cargo hold, but the son thought he heard odd noises coming from inside it.”
Now that caught Kane’s attention.
“What else did you find out?”
“Nothing. I didn’t want to ask too many questions, but it might be something.”
It was worth investigating. “Did you find out who the son worked for?”
“As the man was leaving, I followed him outside and asked, but he wouldn’t tell me and walked away.”
Even more strange. What person in town had so much power over people that they dared not speak? He would have to do some snooping since it was the first lead they had.
“I will go down to the docks and ask around, discretely. I’ll let you know what I find.”
Caroline grabbed his hand. “What would I do without you?”
He squeezed her hand back. “I’m happy to help. Anything to find those missing girls.”
As he left, Caroline pointed him toward the docks. The air in Dover always smelled like the sea, but the closer he got to the docks, the stronger the salty air tickled his nose. As Kane wound his way down the rows of ships, the pungent smells of fish and garbage assaulted his senses.
He headed for the dockmaster’s offices after being given directions by a dock worker.
“Good afternoon,” Kane said to the clerk sitting behind the desk. “I was wondering if you could assist me.”
“How can I help you, sir?”
“If I wanted to hire a smaller vessel to sail to France, who would be the best man?”
“Several of the ships sail to France weekly.”
“How about at night?” Kane produced a coin for the clerk. “And knows how to be discrete about the trips.”
The young man glanced both ways before leaning forward. “Willy Graham has done some trips at night. For the right price, of course.”
“Of course.” Now he was getting somewhere. “Where can I find Mr. Graham?”
“His boat is docked on the south side. Name of the vessel is Whitestar.”
“Thank you, sir. You have been most informative.” Kane gave the young man the coin for his time and to hopefully hold his tongue. It wouldn’t do for it to get around the docks that he was asking questions.
Kane took his leave, walking in the direction the clerk had given him. He wasn’t sure if he should be worried that it was so easy or not. Dover was the closet English port to France. No doubt there were illegal activities going on given the two countries' proximity and many people willing to make money any way they could. He would have to tread lightly with Mr. Graham. If he was doing anything nefarious, the man would be on guard for anyone snooping around.
Ships of varying sizes swayed with the ebb and flow of the tide, the wood creaking under the constant swells. He found the boat he was looking for tucked between two larger vessels. The gangplank was lowered so Kane stepped onboard. The moment his boots hit the planks, an older grisly man came around from the port side.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Are you Graham?”
“I am, sir, and who are you?” the seaman asked, narrowing his gaze.