A Tall Dark Stranger (18 page)

He massaged his chin again, then said, “Amy, I’m sorry to disturb your household, but would you mind rousing Cook? I want to know what time she retired and if she noticed anything—”

“She was just going to bed when I left the back door to join the militiamen around eleven,” Lollie said. “She hadn’t noticed anything amiss.”

“So the theft occurred between eleven and three-thirty.” Robert looked at me. “Did anyone leave the party early, Amy?”

“No, except for Lollie, we all left around midnight. Plenty of time for any of the guests to have done it between twelve and three-thirty, though.”

“Only a child, or a woman, could have wiggled down that coal chute,” Lollie said.

“And a woman could scarcely have hauled those bags upstairs without making a racket as they thumped from stair to stair,” I pointed out.

“Not without help,” Robert agreed. “Of course, once she was inside, what was to prevent her from admitting her helper via the back door, since Forten was unconscious?” He went over and examined Forten, who was now snoring stertorously.

“We’ll need lanterns, Talbot,” Robert said, turning back to us. Lollie flew to obey the chief. “We’ll try to pick up the trail from the back door. The mount would have been several hundred yards away to avoid detection. I fancy the bags were hauled to the mount. That took a strong back,” he added, frowning. “I wouldn’t have thought ...”

We waited. When he didn’t expand on that curious suggestive statement, I said, “Wouldn’t have thought what?”

“I think Renshaw means one smallish person couldn’t have done it,” Lollie said, rooting out two lanterns from the shelf of the cupboard.

“Exactly,” Robert agreed. I didn’t think that was what he meant at all. He had already explained that the smaller person could have admitted a helper by the back door. He saw my questioning look and said, “I thought the attempt would occur during the Murrays’ party while the family was out of the house.”

“But all our suspects were at the party,” I said.

Robert nodded, frowning. He sent Lollie for McAdam, who was apprised of the situation and had nothing to add but that he should never have trusted Leo Forten. He was a deal too fond of the bottle, but he had never drunk on the job before. As it was too late to do anything about it, Robert just took a deep breath and said anyone could make a mistake.

McAdam volunteered to remain in charge of the operation at Oakbay while Robert and Lollie tried to pick up the trail outside. No one mentioned where I should be in the meanwhile. I knew well enough that the gentlemen wouldn’t allow me to go with them. As nothing was said one way or the other, I flew upstairs, got my oldest pelisse, changed my kid slippers for walking shoes, and sneaked out the front door.

I followed behind Robert and Lollie until they were well beyond the house, at which time I made my presence known. They had either to let me join them or accompany me home. I soon convinced them that speed was of the essence. And besides, I had brought a poker with me, so I felt perfectly safe.

“That’s what we thought about the money.” Robert scowled. “Stick close to me. That’s an order.”

To ensure my compliance, he grasped my hand, the one not holding the poker, and we examined the earth for signs of disturbance. The earth at the back door is clay, packed hard by centuries of footsteps. An elephant could have dragged a house over that clay without leaving much in the way of a mark, so we were unsure which direction to take.

“This is hopeless,” I said. “We can’t possibly find any traces before morning. I think we should go back to the house and think about this.”

“You do that,” Robert said at once. “This is no place for a lady.”

“What will you do in the meanwhile?”

“Catch the thief,” he said complacently. As he obviously knew a good deal more than he was saying, I decided to remain with His Majesty’s agents.

“Do you know where you’re going, Robert?” I ventured to inquire after we had “tracked” through the meadow quite at random for the better part of half an hour.
Tracking
was the word he and Lollie used.

It was much too dark to see any tracks a person might have left in the tall grass. The moon was obscured by a slow-moving patch of clouds and we didn’t use the lanterns to avoid being spotted. One or other of the agents would squat from time to time, peer into the grass, and exclaim, “This way!” with great certainty, but invariably the “track” petered out to an untrampled stretch of rank grass.

“Why do we not have Isaiah hauled out of bed and quiz him?” I suggested. “Those were surely his finger marks on the wainscoting. It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do.”

“Rob a government caravan of fifty thousand pounds, you mean?” Robert asked ironically. “A bright lad!”

“No, I mean sell his services to whomever did steal the money. He’s involved at this stage. He knows something is all I meant.”

I might as well not have spoken. “This way!” rang out again, and we were off in the direction of the water meadow. I was convinced the gentlemen hadn’t a notion what they were doing but only wanted to be doing something.

“Surely they wouldn’t throw the money into the water?” I said. “Unless they were abandoning it... But in that case, why bother to remove it from the cellar?”

“Not the water meadow, the shepherd’s hut,” Lollie deigned to inform me.

“They’ve already used it once.”

“What’s to stop them from using it again?”

“The fact that you found it the first time.”

We hurried along to the shepherd’s hut, where we found things exactly as we had left them some days ago. There was no fresh mound of straw to look under. The place had obviously not been used at all, even for a romantic tryst.

I remembered the blue ribbon Robert had found there and said, “Did you ever discover whether that length of blue ribbon was available in Woking, Windsor, or Farnborough, Robert?”

“Beau checked it out for me. It wasn’t available in any of those towns. The drapers think it came from London. Maitland might have bought it for one of his, er, friends.”

“So he might. Or your London friend, Mrs. Murray, might have been wearing it. She wears a great many ribbons.” Too many, but I didn’t say that.

“She also has a pretty parlormaid, Annie. I noticed Annie rolling her eyes at Maitland at the party. I expect Annie gets some of Mrs. Murray’s discards.”

He was only teasing me that my erstwhile
tendre
was flirting with servants at the shepherd’s hut. My mind was going in a different direction. Mrs. Murray was not only a flirt; she also gambled and not for chicken stakes.

Might she have fallen into debt in London? When you came down to it, Murray was the only one in the neighborhood who knew for certain that the money was being shipped and his wife might have discovered it from him. Or indeed Murray himself might be involved.

Something was niggling at the back of my mind, but I didn’t think it had to do with ribbons. Something else about Mrs. Murray—and Isaiah. Fifi! That was it.

“That rascal of an Isaiah found her for me,” Mrs. Murray had said. “Well, ‘found’ is one word for it. It wouldn’t surprise me much if he lured Fifi away and hid her for a day to increase the reward. I know she smelled of the pigsty when she was brought back, and the Smoggs keep a few pigs out back. He’s sharp as a tack, that Isaiah. He’ll amount to something one of these days if he isn’t thrown into Newgate first.” She had smiled in approval of his criminal cunning.

She knew he was clever and amenable to criminal activity. He had been loitering about Oakbay last night.

While I brooded, Lollie had climbed up on the roof of the shepherd’s hut to survey the countryside, either for hiding places or signs of criminal activity. The clouds had moved away from the moon, greatly improving visibility.

I hesitated to mention my suspicions to Robert lest he think me a jealous female, but as the Murrays were leaving in the morning, time was of the essence. I took a deep breath, and after reminding him of Isaiah’s presence at Oakbay last night, I told him about Fifi and Mrs. Murray’s gambling.

He considered it for a moment, then said, “The ribbon, I think, is an irrelevance involving romance, not robbery.”

“I wasn’t referring to the ribbon.”

“Not directly, but it did occur to me that the lady’s carrying on with Maitland might have aroused your ire and caused an unconscious dislike that—”

“Don’t be an ass!” I scoffed. “I’m not jealous, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You did seem mighty fond of Maitland.”

“I was also fond of sugarplums and dolls once upon a time. One outgrows those childish fascinations.”

“Good,” he said with a little smile, and squeezed my fingers. “But about Isaiah, Mrs. Murray is not the only one who realizes he’d sell his soul to Satan for a quid. The whole parish knows it. I have trouble envisaging a lady behind a scheme of this sort. Odd your suspicions don’t spread to include Mr. Murray.” His quizzical smile suggested that I was jealous of Marie and trying to blacken her character.

I rescued my fingers from his grasp. “I believe a female is quite capable of larceny without a man’s help, but in fact it had occurred to me that they might be in it together,” I said, refusing to acknowledge his taunt.

“This sudden dart to London when no real crisis exists is interesting. The government has been discussing the election for a month. The cabinet will decide the date. They wouldn’t call the members back only for that.”

I felt a sense of urgency building. The money had vanished from my brother’s house. If it was not found, there would always be a suspicion that we had managed to hide it. I could almost feel the neighbors’ eyes squinting at us every time we bought a new gown or had a room painted. “I wonder where the money is coming from?” they would ask in that insinuating way.

“They might have the blunt in their carriage this minute while we waste our time looking for it,” I said, to give Robert an idea that we didn’t have all night.

“I’ll have Isaiah hauled out of bed and quiz him,” he said.

“This way!” sounded from the roof of the hut.

“Oh, dear, he’s spotted a badger or an owl,” I said wearily.

Robert’s lips quirked in a grin. “You have a poor opinion of us,” he said.

“Only of your tracking instincts. You’re not hound dogs, after all.”

“What is it?” Robert called up to Lottie.

“Someone just darted through the meadow. He’s heading off past the water meadow toward the road.”

“Are you sure it isn’t a hare?” I asked. “They do forage at night.”

“It was bigger than a hare,” he said, but he sounded uncertain. If it had been a person, he would have said so.

In any case, he leaped down from the roof and took off, skirting the water meadow. Robert grabbed my hand again and we followed him at a less lively gait, pelting through the long grass, with the wan moon shining above and reflecting in the water. A soft breeze cooled our brows as we hastened along. Lollie let out a loud “Halloo,” and “Wait up there!” but the “hare” either didn’t hear or didn’t heed him.

We followed Lollie up toward the graveyard, where silent marble sentinels made our behavior seem uncouth. We continued on past to the church. When we caught up with him, he was sitting on the lychgate, gasping for breath.

“He got away,” he said.

I looked up to the church and Isaiah’s house, just across the road. “Isaiah!” I exclaimed. “I knew he was in on it!”

“It could have been him,” Lollie said. “It wasn’t big enough for a man.”

“Let’s go to his house now,” I said, urging Robert forward with a hand on his elbow.

“I didn’t see him go home,” Lollie said. “I lost him around the water meadow, but I’m sure it was a person, not a hare or a dog. It was running on two feet.”

“We’ll see if he’s home,” I said, again nudging Robert forward.

We all set off for Isaiah’s little flint cottage. It looked snug and innocent; no lights were burning within. It seemed rude to go banging on the door at such an hour. I could see Robert was reluctant to do it, but he continued pacing toward the house at a determined gait.

As we crossed the road and were close enough to see details, I noticed some movement at the side of the cottage. Who should it be but Isaiah, strutting forward, fully dressed. That is to say as fully dressed as he ever is, in a ragged shirt, dark trousers that stopped just below his knees, and no shoes.

“Good evening, Miss Talbot,” he said, as cocky as ever. But he was breathing rather quickly after his dart through the meadow. “Does your auntie know you’re out so late?”

“Mr. Renshaw wants to speak to you, Isaiah, about a most important matter,” I said.

He looked at Robert, crossed his arms, lifted his chin in the air, and said, “Fire away, mister.”

“I notice you haven’t been to bed yet,” Robert said in a friendly way designed to put him off his guard. Little did he know Isaiah Smogg.

“Course I have,” he said, and yawned theatrically, stretching his arms. “I just got up to check my traps.”

“You’re not wearing a nightshirt,” I said.

“Never do, do I? Don’t hold with them. Don’t hold with shoes and all that sissy stuff.” He spat on the ground to show his disgust of civilization as we know it.

“Oh. What traps are they that you set?” I asked.

“Rat traps,” he said with relish. “Ma’s got rats in the pantry. They get in through the holes in the floor. Ate half the rabbit she planned to stew for dinner.”

He went toward the porch, a rickety affair propped up on rocks, picked up a forked stick, and began poking under the porch. He drew out a trap that did indeed hold a rat as big as a kitten. He held it up by the tail, swinging it under my nose. It was still alive. It squealed in a most disconcerting way. I leaped back but managed to suppress the scream that rose in my throat.

“He ain’t quite dead yet,” he said. “I’ll finish him off in a bucket of water. Cruel to let the poor bugger suffer.”

In the meanwhile he set the trapped rat aside and straightened, staring at us mutinously. “You didn’t come here to see if I was in bed. What are you after?” he asked.