The Royal Scamp (12 page)

Joshua scowled, Meecham looked wary, and Beau Fletcher listened with no particular interest.

“What do you expect Clifford to do?”
Joshua asked.

“He could alert the guards on the heath. Not that they did much to help the men carrying gold last night,”
she replied.

“Anyone who ventures onto Hounslow after dark deserves what he gets,”
Meecham said rather angrily.

Fletcher gave him a blighting stare. “Spoken like a true Christian, Meecham.”
Then he took his leave.

“You shouldn’t have mentioned the Wrothams’
visit in front of Fletcher,”
Joshua scolded.

Esther didn’t look within a right angle of Meecham. “Why not? You cannot think Mr. Fletcher would harm them?”

“I don’t know what to think,”
Joshua admitted. “Meecham has just told me Fletcher was out of his room last night when the gold wagon was held up.”

Esther turned a sapient eye on Meecham. “And how did you learn that, Mr. Meecham?”
Could it possibly be true?

“I looked.”

“Why?”

“Paul is keeping an eye on Fletcher for me,”
Joshua said.

“Again, might I know why? Why do you pick on him?”

“Because he’s here.”

Esther glanced innocently at Meecham. “So are  all my guests, Joshua. Surely that is not sufficient reason to condemn the man.”

“I’m not condemning him. I’m just keeping an eye on him.”

She felt a strong urge to mention the wisdom of keeping an eye on Meecham as well but didn’t want to alert him that she had prepared a trap in inventing the Wrothams’
visit.

“I’ll let you two have your lunch now,”
she said pleasantly, and went to Buck’s office to warn him he must corroborate the Wrothams’
imaginary visit.

There were several important matters to arrange regarding her trap, but examining Meecham’s room must be done first, while he was in the dining room. She had the master key and went along to his room quietly, to avoid detection by Lady Gloria or any other guests.

The key turned in the lock, but the door refused to budge. He had barricaded it somehow from the inside. How had he done it? Was there someone in there? Had he pushed a dresser in front of it and climbed out the window? Esther was stymied.

As she passed Lady Gloria’s door on the way to her own room, it occurred to her that she could reach Meecham’s room by the interconnecting door from Lady Gloria’s. These chambers used to be her mother’s bedroom and sitting room. The door between was kept locked unless a family hired the two rooms as a suite. Lady Gloria might sit below with Lady Brown for an hour yet, gossiping over the teacups. Without a moment’s hesitation she opened Lady Gloria’s door and whisked inside, thence on to Meecham’s room.

Mr. Meecham hadn’t bothered moving any furniture behind his door into the hall. He had just jammed a knife into the molding around the frame that stopped the door from opening inward very effectively, though it did considerable damage to the molding and some to the knife.

She made a quick survey of the room. The window was open, which suggested Meecham had made his exit that way, in which case there should be a rope left hanging outside ... but there was none. She stuck her head out the window and examined the side of the house for means of exit and reentry.

Her eyes fell on the quoins at the corner of the building. They protruded two inches. A very agile man could clamber up them and reach the edge of the windowsill. The precaution of the knife in the door frame told her there was something worth concealing in the room and she set about finding it. Every place she looked held another piece of incriminating evidence. From the pistol under his pillow to the black mask and domino folded into a neat roll on the top shelf of his clothespress, to the long rope under his bed, everything shouted the same message: Captain Johnnie!

With her heart pounding in her throat, Esther quietly left and locked the door, then slipped out by Lady Gloria’s room, locking it, too. Her fingers were trembling, and her knees felt wobbly. She went haring off to find Officer Clifford. Buck was in his office, paring his nails.

“Oh, hullo, Esther. I slipped over to the dower house. Pink. That dashed painter is doing you up in bright pink. I gave him a hand remixing till I got it toned down to a light rose blush.”

“Thank you, Buck,”
she said distractedly.

“Is everything going all right?”

“Where’s Officer Clifford?”

“He rode off not fifteen minutes ago. Said he’d be back around dinnertime. Bit of a relief to get his common phiz off the premises, what?”

“No, I need him. Where did he go?”

“He didn’t say. Can I help, Esther?”

“I’ve found Captain Johnnie.  It’s Paul Meecham.”

"Eh?"

“In his room—a gun, the black mask and cape, a rope—everything.”

“Good God! I didn’t see any of that when I searched earlier. Mind you, the grease spill on the carpet distracted me.”
Buck turned pale.

“He’s with Joshua in the dining room now,”
Esther said.

“No, they went along to Heath Abbey. They decided not to eat here.”

“Send Clifford to me the instant he arrives. And make sure your office is locked when you leave, Buck, and tell Peters to lock the cellar door in the kitchen as well. Meecham has been inspecting the whole place for hiding places for his loot.”

“Eh?”

She repeated her morning’s adventures. Buck was as nervous as a lady, which made Esther realize he would be no help in springing her trap. She’d leave that to Mr. Clifford.

She went upstairs, her head reeling with schemes, suspicions, and worries. Foremost in her mind was Joshua’s troublesome report that Fletcher had not been in his room when Meecham entered. Where had he been? If his errand had been innocent, he would have told her. He had not seemed perturbed to hear of Meecham’s visit while he slept, but Clifford had spoken to him first, so he was prepared. She must discover his first reaction, when Clifford told him. Why didn’t Clifford come?

Esther saw from her window that Lady Brown and Lady Gloria Devere were taking a turn along the river walk and was relieved at their absence. Lady Brown would not approve of such unladylike doings as setting a trap for a highwayman and consorting with a Bow Street runner to do it. Yet something must be done to catch the Royal Scamp before he ruined her. Within an hour there was a tap at her door and Officer Clifford came in, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“G’day, miss. Ye were looking for me?”

“Come in,”
she said, and hastily closed the door. When they were seated, she turned an accusing eye on him. “Why did you not tell me Mr. Fletcher was out of his room when Meecham sneaked in last night?”

“So that is what’s got your dander up. The fact is, ma’am, Mr. Fletcher particularly asked me not to tell ye." He closed one eye and nodded sagely. “But as you’ve ferreted it out, ‘twas petticoat dealings. I have just been having it checked out, and it verifies. A pretty little wench over at the Black Knight. He visited her last night and was there all through the robbery. He left the wench at five in the morning, to get back in his room before he was missed—except that Meecham slipped in around two and saw he was missing,”

“A lightskirt!”
Esther exclaimed. This was nearly as bad as robbing a coach. Worse, in that it lacked any daring and revealed only a dissolute side to the man. Any tinge of glamour Captain Johnnie’s reputation had bestowed on Fletcher was quickly rubbed off, and he stood revealed in his true colors. “Well, upon my word!”

“Nothing to ruffle your fine feathers, milady. They all do it, and worse. And now I’ve a bone to pick with ye! Ye ought not to have announced in public that Lord and Lady Wrotham are coming to you tonight.”

In her pique Esther had forgotten the more important reason for calling Clifford. She quickly outlined her plan. Clifford was not happy with her.

“Leave the catching of thieves to us that is trained for it,”
he said curtly. “What you have done is put me to a deal of bother for nothing.”

“But if Meecham goes after the imaginary coach, it is an excellent opportunity to catch him.”

“Catch him sitting on a horse in the shadows, minding his own business. You can’t arrest a man for taking a moonlight ride, and that is all he’d be doing.”

“If he goes to the heath tonight, we’ll know he is Captain Johnnie at least. He has the pistol, the cape, and mask.”

“I discussed them items with him when I spotted them in his room myself. Many gentlemen carry a pistol when traveling. He was at a masquerade party last week and kept the things, as it seems Joshua Ramsay is having another masked party.”

“Mr. Ramsay only decided that this morning.”

“Nay, ‘twas decided before. Ramsay told me so hisself.”

Esther found another slight in this. The party was not for her. It was Meecham who wanted a masquerade party. It had not been her first choice. “How about the open window and the quoins used as a ladder?”

“Meecham didn’t build the quoins into the house. They’ve been there forever.”

“He chose the corner room and left his window open.”

“A body needs a breath of fresh air. Mr. Meecham is a gentleman of the first stare, Miss Lowden.”

“You called him a petty thief before!”

“Aye, before I knew Mr. Joshua Ramsay had asked him in particular to look in on Fletcher’s room. Everyone in London knows ‘im, according to Mr. Joshua Ramsay. Meecham is kin to half the lords and ladies whose names pepper the journals for their social gadding. There’s no way such a lad would risk his reputation. With his Adonis face he has only to marry an heiress, and any money troubles he has would be over with. It seems all the ladies are tossing their bonnets at his head. Ye don’t go accusing someone like that, and a veteran besides.”

Esther saw that Meecham was securely restored to his pedestal. “Why does he have that rope in his room, and why does he wedge his door with a knife?”

“He mentioned your poor fire-safety measures. Plenty of folks travel with a rope, in case of fire. Being near the back stairs, he figures he’s in the worst location. A fire could come ripping up them stairs from the kitchen and burn you all to cinders. It ain’t my own area of expertise, but you ought to put in a set of fire stairs outside, miss.”

“Why did he use a ladder the first night instead of coming in the door like a Christian?”

“I daresay he had wedged his door with a knife against thieves. The ladder was lying about handy when he returned, so he used it to crawl in. What ye didn’t think to ask, miss, is how young Fletcher got in and out last night with no one being any the wiser.”

“Rope or ladder?”
she asked through thin lips.

“Rope. In his case it was your own good opinion he was fearful of losing, so he availed hisself of a rope and crept out and in that way.”

“Does Meecham feel a knife stuck in his door would help his escape by a rope through the window, in case of fire?”
she demanded.

“We all know public inns are beehives of thieves. He was only securing his valuables.”

“He didn’t have any valuables. He had a rope and a mask and cape.”

“And a few odd bits of personal adornment ye missed. He keeps them in an empty wine bottle. A diamond stud, gold watch fobs, and whatnot. He showed them to me. A right clever lad, thinking of such a hiding place.”

“Perhaps more clever than you know, Mr. Clifford. He’s conned you.”

“No, he gave reasonable answers to my questions, but that ain’t to say I take his word for gospel. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“And you’ll follow him if he leaves the inn to intercept the Wrothams?”

“I will. Just in case he’s connected with the Scamp, I want to learn where he stables his mount. He must have headquarters somewhere nearby. Captain Johnnie must have, I mean, since we smoked him out of the Black Knight. That was his headquarters till a week ago.”

Still miffed at Mr. Fletcher’s duplicity, Esther said, “Perhaps Mr. Fletcher’s wench could help you.”

“She can’t. She only moved into the Black Knight four days ago from London. Fletcher stayed there the night before he came here, and that is when he met her. A comely young girl.”

Perhaps he would stop and visit the girl on his way to London to fetch Cathy. Esther felt her heart congeal to lava. She was furious with Fletcher for deceiving her, with Officer Clifford for not believing Meecham was guilty, and with Joshua for implying the masquerade party was for her. Most of all she was frustrated with not being able to do anything about the situation.

“What will you do tonight?”
she asked sharply.

“I’ll loiter about the inn, see who leaves, and follow him.”

The afternoon seemed long. Beau was in London, and Joshua and Meecham didn’t return from Heath Abbey. She had no idea what they were doing, or even whether they would return to the inn that evening. Meecham might go straight from the Abbey to his headquarters to saddle up and try to rob the Wrothams. Except that his mask and domino were presumably still in his room. Or would he have another set at his headquarters? At least he wasn’t using her abandoned stable. A footboy from the inn had checked it out regularly, and no one had been there.

She felt a twinge of annoyance every time she thought of how her hospitality was being abused. She longed to throw Paul Meecham into the road like the thief he was, but with Joshua making a pet of him and Clifford singing his praises, she didn’t dare to do it.

Dinner was an upsetting meal. Meecham had not returned, nor had she seen any sign of Joshua. Officer Clifford sat in a dark corner alone, shoveling in his mutton.

Lady Brown babbled on in her usual aimless fashion. “We should take a run over to the dower house and see how the painting is going, Esther. I’m not sure you were wise to choose pink for the saloon. It can be gaudy, though it is flattering to aging complexions.”

“Buck is keeping an eye on that, Auntie.”

“I was looking forward to this stay at your inn, but now we are here, I find I miss the comforts of home. One doesn’t like to go to her bedchamber at seven-thirty at night, nor to lounge about the lobby here like a commoner. Lady Gloria says the same. She has had a conciliating letter from her brother. He invited her back to the Hall. Of course it is only her fortune he is after, now that she is getting on in years, but I feel she will accept. No one wants to grow old alone, amid strangers.”