Thieftaker Read Online Free PDF

Americas hated the French, they still had a mighty thirst for French wines and spirits. Since the 1730s, American distillers had purchased smuggled molasses from the French West Indies. Now Grenville and his friends in Parliament had lowered the molasses tariff and banned the import of French rum, in the hopes of ending that illegal trade. All they had done, however, was create a new and lucrative illegal market in spirits from the islands.
    If the customs men caught Boston merchants selling French goods, they would confiscate what they found and fine the merchants. But if they found someone like Diver selling them, they would leave the merchants alone and deal harshly with him.
    “So they want you to sell them,” Ethan said.
    “I get paid two pence for every gallon of wine or rum; and that adds up. I could make more in five days selling this stuff than I make at the wharf in an entire season.”
    You could also get yourself thrown in the stocks. Or worse. Ethan kept that thought to himself; Diver was a fool, but he understood the risks.
    “Daniel was supposed to sell them, too, wasn’t he?” Ethan asked.
    Diver faltered. “Aye.”
    “When does the shipment get here?”
    “Tonight. It might be here already. I’m waiting for one of my mates from the wharf. He’s supposed to tell me when it arrives.”
    Ethan shook his head and ran a hand over his face. Daniel wouldn’t be leaving the city after all. He couldn’t refuse that kind of money. Ethan had to hope that Folter would manage to avoid Corbett until he sold his share of the contraband.
    “You think I’m mad,” Diver said.
    “I have for years. Why should it start bothering you now?” He grinned, as did Diver. “No, I was thinking about Daniel. I told him to leave the city. But he won’t go if he’s waiting for this shipment.”
    “He might, if you scared him enough.”
    “Would you,” Ethan asked, “if you knew the casks were coming?”
    “Probably,” Diver said, dropping his voice once more. “But I’ve seen what your spells can do.” He took another spoonful of stew.
    They ate in silence for a time. Diver eyed the tavern’s entrance, while Ethan pondered what might happen if Ezra Corbett learned that Daniel was still roaming the streets. Ethan depended on men like Corbett—merchants and craftsmen of means—for his livelihood. If word spread through the city that he had let Daniel go, they would think twice about calling on him when they needed a thieftaker. Sephira Pryce, Ethan was sure, would be all too happy to take their business.
    “There we are,” Diver said suddenly.
    Ethan looked up to see that his friend was already standing, his eyes fixed on the doorway. A burly man stood in the tavern entrance, motioning to Diver.
    “I’ll see you later, Ethan,” Diver said.
    “Watch yourself,” Ethan told him. “There are plenty of men in this city who would be willing to sell the wine and rum themselves, and who would think nothing of taking them from you and leaving you a bloody mess.”
    Diver nodded and crossed to the doorway. He and the man spoke briefly, the burly man shaking his head repeatedly as Diver’s expression grew grimmer by the moment. At last, Diver turned and walked slowly back to the table.
    “What happened?” Ethan asked, as his friend lowered himself back into his chair. “Ship delayed? There’s been more talk of privateers in the waters off Boston and Europe.”
    “No,” Diver said, sounding morose. “The ship’s put in, but the shipment wasn’t on board. There’s no telling when it’ll be getting here.” He stared at his empty bowl. “Damn!” he muttered after several moments.
    “You need another ale,” Ethan said. “And so do I. Tell Kelf that you’re buying off the shillings I gave him before.”
    Diver got up again, eager as a puppy. “You’re a good man.”
    Ethan finished his stew, and when Diver brought back the ales, he turned his chair so that he could see the rest of the room. Kannice