The Third Circle

by Amanda Quick

  “But that isn’t going to stop you from taking it, is it?” she asked. “And I, a frail, weak, helpless female, can hardly stop you should you try to take it by force.”

  His mouth twitched a little at the corner. “Frail, weak and helpless are not the words that spring immediately to mind when I think of you, Miss Hewitt.”

  “So much for appealing to your gentlemanly instincts. I should have known better.”

  For some reason that small shot across the bow seemed to strike home. To her amazement Thaddeus turned to stone before her very eyes.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “You of all people should have known better than to credit me with the instincts of a gentleman.”

  What in the world was he talking about now? she wondered, going quite blank. She had only meant to make him feel some smattering of guilt for trying to force her to give up the stone. She wanted an apology from him, at the very least. Instead, he had reacted as though she were a judge who had condemned him to prison for the remainder of his life.

  She gave him her most repressive glare. “Tell me, sir, why were you the one chosen to track down my crystal?”

  He shrugged, coming out of that very still, quiet place where her comment about his lack of gentlemanly instincts had sent him a moment ago.

  “Conducting investigations is what I do,” he said.

  She froze. “You are a police detective?”

  He smiled, amused by her horrified start. “No. I make private enquiries on behalf of individuals or, in this case, a group of individuals, who, for whatever reason, do not wish to contact the police.”

  She relaxed a little at that reassurance. Her curiosity surfaced. “This is your business?”

  He hesitated, as though uncertain how to answer that. “I do not do it for the money,” he said finally.

  “Then why do you do it?” she demanded.

  “It . . . satisfies something in me.”

  She pondered that for a moment. “I understand. That is one of the two reasons I do what I do with crystals. I find it satisfies something inside me.”

  He cocked a brow. “What is the second reason?”

  She gave him a cool smile. “Unlike you, sir, I do need the money.”

  She braced herself for some indication of disdain. He was a gentleman and apparently a wealthy one at that. Those who moved in elevated circles looked down on people who were obliged to work for a living. Within the Arcane Society there was an added degree of disapproval for any individual who worked crystals. In the social hierarchy of those who possessed paranormal abilities, crystal workers ranked at or near the bottom.

  But Thaddeus merely inclined his head as though her answer had not fazed him in the least. Most likely because he had already guessed the truth, she thought.

  “I am curious to know how you came to be acquainted with Adam Harrow and Mr. Pierce,” he said.

  “Mr. Pierce came to me on a number of occasions as a client. Whenever he arrived for an appointment, he was accompanied by Mr. Harrow. Over a period of several weekly visits, Adam and I became friends. He was very grateful to me for my work with Mr. Pierce. Pierce was also quite pleased with the results of my crystal work.”

  “Pierce suffers from nightmares?” Thaddeus asked. Intense curiosity sharpened the edge of the question.

  She gave him a cool smile. He was not the only one who could keep secrets.

  “I do not discuss the nature of my clients’ complaints with others unless the client specifically approves,” she said.

  Thaddeus’s jaw tightened. He did not like being thwarted, she thought. But he inclined his head in a short, brusque nod.

  “I understand,” he said. “I assume it was Pierce who informed you that Delbridge had stolen the crystal?”

  “Yes. After receiving several consultations from me, he was convinced of my skill with crystals. One afternoon he asked very casually if I had ever heard of the aurora stone, as there were rumors going around that it had been stolen. I was stunned to hear that the crystal had surfaced after all this time.”

  Thaddeus frowned. “What do you mean by the term surfaced ?”

  “It was stolen from my mother when I was sixteen years old.” Her hand stilled on Fog’s head. “In fact, I have always believed that she was murdered for it.”

  “I see.”

  “I had given up all hope of finding it. Needless to say, I was thrilled when Mr. Pierce mentioned the rumors. When he realized how important it was to me, he made further inquiries and learned that Delbridge was the likely thief. I immediately began making plans.”

  “To steal the crystal?”

  “To recover my stolen property,” she said coldly. “When Mr. Pierce and Adam realized that I was determined to enter Delbridge’s mansion to look for it, they both insisted that Adam accompany me.”

  Thaddeus frowned. “I’m surprised that Pierce, with all of his connections, didn’t offer to steal the stone for you.”

  “He did. But I explained to him that I was the only one who could identify the real aurora stone. In any event, Mr. Pierce did not believe Delbridge to be nearly as dangerous as he apparently is. Delbridge’s reputation is that of an eccentric collector. Who would have thought that he was actually an evil chemist capable of concocting drugs that can drive one mad.”

  Thaddeus looked out the window at the quiet little park across the street. “That is one of the strangest aspects of this business. Until now no one had any reason to believe that Delbridge was anything more than an obsessive collector of paranormal antiquities. I doubt very much that he knew how to brew up that hallucinatory vapor on his own.”

  “Do you think he has an associate?”

  “It seems the only logical explanation. Perhaps more than one. I suspect that he has also employed a highly skilled killer, one who has practiced his craft on at least two prostitutes. Both died in the same manner as that woman we found in Delbridge’s mansion.”

  Shock rolled through her. “Do you refer to that fiend the press is calling the Midnight Monster?”

  “Yes. Miss Hewitt, do you begin to comprehend just how much danger you are in?”

  Staggered, she could only stare at him for a moment. Eventually she found her tongue.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I do take your point. To think that the Midnight Monster might be in the employ of Lord Delbridge. It is almost impossible to believe.”

  “The only reasonable thing to do is to give the crystal to me so that I can hand it over to the Arcane Society for safekeeping until matters are satisfactorily resolved. I promise you that when this matter is concluded, I will make certain that you have an opportunity to put forward your claim on the stone to the Master of the Society, himself.”

  Fat lot of good that would do, she thought glumly. “Thank you,” she managed politely.

  “I might also point out that by holding on to the crystal it is not just yourself you are putting at risk,” Thaddeus said quietly. “As long as the stone is in your possession, your Mrs. Cleeves is in danger.”

  She stiffened at that. “What do you mean?”

  “If his lordship has employed a killer, as I suspect, I doubt very much the villain would think twice about murdering your housekeeper.”

  Enough, Leona thought. She was unlikely to ever recover the crystal once it was back in the hands of the Arcane Society, but there was not much choice now. She could not put Mrs. Cleeves in jeopardy.

  “Very well,” she said. Resigned to the inevitable, she got to her feet, absently shaking out the tiered and draped folds of her black gown. “It’s upstairs. If you give me a moment I will go and get it.”

  Thaddeus glanced at the sack that contained the three crystals she had brought back from the rooms in Marigold Lane. “You did not take it with you to your consultations in Marigold Lane today?”

  “No.” She went toward the door. “It is an extremely powerful stone with some unique properties. I was taught that it was only to be used in the most extreme circumstances.�
��

  “I know something of its power,” he said, meeting her eyes. “And yours as well.”

  She could have sworn that he was trying to convey something important, a gesture of respect, perhaps. It warmed her a little.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He moved to open the door, watching her with an unreadable expression as she swept past him.

  “You are making a wise decision,” he said.

  “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

  She went out into the hall and up the stairs, Fog at her heels.

  At the door of her bedroom, Fog sniffed the floor with sudden interest. When she opened the door he trotted straight toward the large trunk where she had stored the aurora stone and whined softly.

  “What do you find so intriguing?” she asked. “Surely you know all the scents in this household.”

  She eased him aside, removed the key from the chatelaine she wore at her waist and inserted it into the lock.

  The contents of the trunk were in disarray. Her mother’s journal and the leather-bound box that contained the old notebooks and papers were tumbled together with a pair of walking boots, an old bonnet, a spare quilt and the other things stored inside.

  Frantically she dug down to the bottom of the trunk.

  The black velvet pouch containing the aurora stone was gone.

  15

  HE HAD EXPECTED many things from her today, including anger and disgust. Lord knew she had every right to those emotions given what he had almost done to her. But he had not expected her to lie to him.

  “Stolen?” Thaddeus repeated evenly. “What a very convenient excuse. A little too convenient. Do you really think to deter me with that flimsy story?”

  Leona’s mouth tightened. She paced the floor of the parlor, black skirts fluttering around her stylish, high-heeled boots. Her aura of outrage and alarm were genuine, Thaddeus decided.

  “You are free to conclude whatever you wish, of course,” she said. “But I am telling you that the crystal is gone.” She waved a hand toward the parlor door. “Feel free to search the house, sir. When you are satisfied that the crystal is not on the premises, kindly take your leave. I’m sure you will want to continue your inquiries elsewhere.”

  He contemplated Fog. The dog was stretched out in front of the small sofa, head up, watching Leona’s every move.

  “When do you think the thief broke in?” Thaddeus asked, keeping his voice neutral.

  “Who knows?” Leona stopped at the far end of the small room, swung around and stalked back toward the door. “Most burglars do their work at night.” She shuddered. “Good heavens, to think that an intruder was prowling through this house while Mrs. Cleeves and I were asleep last night. It is quite terrifying.”

  He watched her sweep past him, aware that, even now, annoyed and worried about her safety as he was, his senses nevertheless savored the exciting energy that swirled around her. He and Leona were engaged in a full-blown quarrel yet he was aroused, physically and psychically.

  “I doubt that this particular burglar came at night,” he said dryly.

  Leona stopped pacing and whirled around, glaring. “Why do you insist on that?”

  He angled his head toward Fog. “Your dog. He does not look as though he would sleep while an intruder prowled into your bedroom.”

  She followed his gaze, bewildered at first. Then comprehension and relief lit her face. “Oh. Right. Of course not. Fog is very protective. No one could have entered the house last night. He would have sounded the alarm and attacked the intruder.” She frowned. “But if not last night, when did the villain steal the crystal?”

  Two could play at this game.

  “Did you take your dog for a walk this morning?”

  “Yes, but we only went across the street and into the park for a short time because I had an early appointment with a client. We were never out of sight of the house. In any event, Mrs. Cleeves was here.”

  “I suggest we talk to Mrs. Cleeves.”

  “Mrs. Cleeves.” Leona’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course. She would have taken Fog out in the afternoon. I asked her to give him a nice, long walk as I’d cut his morning stroll short.”

  She hurried to the door, got it open and leaned out into the hall.

  “Mrs. Cleeves?” she called.

  A plump, pleasant-faced woman in a white apron appeared. There was flour on her hands.

  “Did you take Fog for his afternoon walk today?”

  “Certainly, ma’am. Just as you instructed.” She looked past Leona at Thaddeus and then back at Leona. “Is there something wrong, ma’am?”

  This could not be a well-rehearsed play that he was witnessing, Thaddeus decided. He had seen Leona’s shock earlier when she had rushed out of the consulting room into his arms. She had not been expecting him. There had been no opportunity for her and the housekeeper to have practiced this little scene.

  He shuttered his expression so that the housekeeper would not see his unease and went to stand behind Leona.

  “What time did you go out, Mrs. Cleeves?” he asked.

  She frowned briefly in thought. Then her brow cleared. “It would have been about two o’clock, right after Miss Hewitt returned to Marigold Lane for her afternoon appointment.”

  “How long were you gone?” he asked.

  “Somewhere above an hour, I suppose. I stopped to have a cup of tea with my sister in Perg Lane. She likes Fog, and the dog is fond of her because she gives him treats.”

  Leona gripped the doorknob very tightly. “Thank God, neither of you came home while the burglar was still here. There’s no telling what he might have done if he had been interrupted in his search.”

  “What’s this about a burglar?” Mrs. Cleeves’s face flushed with anxiety. “See here, none of the silver is missing. I’d have noticed.”

  “It’s all right, Mrs. Cleeves,” Leona said hastily. “One of my crystals was stolen, that’s all.”

  Mrs. Cleeves rolled her eyes. “Why would anyone want one of those ugly stones?”

  “An excellent question, Mrs. Cleeves,” Thaddeus said. “Did you see anyone hanging about on the street or in the park when you left the house?”

  “No,” she said automatically. Then her brows puckered. “Wait, come to think of it, there was a gentleman. He came out of the park and walked off down the street. But he could not have been a villain.”

  “What makes you so certain of that?” Leona asked quickly.

  Mrs. Cleeves was clearly perplexed by the question. “Why, because he was dressed like a gentleman, of course.”

  “Do you recall anything else about him?” Thaddeus asked.

  “No, not really. I barely glanced at him, to tell you the truth.” Mrs. Cleeves frowned. “Wouldn’t have noticed him at all if Fog hadn’t seemed interested in him. Is it important?”

  “It might be,” Thaddeus said. “Mrs. Cleeves, are you familiar with the art of hypnosis?”

  The housekeeper brightened with enthusiasm. “Oh my, yes. My sister and I went to a demonstration a few months ago. Very amazing it was. The hypnotist, Dr. Miller, selected a young girl out of the crowd and put her into a trance. She’d had no fancy education at all, mind you, but once Dr. Miller had mesmerized her she was able to recite whole scenes from Shakespeare. Very impressive, it was.”

  “More likely very fraudulent,” Thaddeus said. “Would you allow me to put you into a brief trance to see if perhaps you can recall any other details about the gentleman you saw outside this house today?”

  Mrs. Cleeves glanced doubtfully at Leona.

  “It will be perfectly safe, Mrs. Cleeves,” Leona said. “I will be right here the whole time. I will make certain that nothing occurs that you might find objectionable.”

  “Very well, then.” Mrs. Cleeves was clearly intrigued. “But I doubt if you can put me into a trance, sir. I’m much too strong-minded.”

  “I do not doubt the strength of your mind for a moment,” Thaddeus said. He opene
d his senses, focusing on the aura that Mrs. Cleeves, like every other living being, generated. He found the wavelengths he wanted and started speaking quietly.

  “You are recalling the events of this afternoon. You are about to take the dog for a walk. Do you understand?”

  With the aid of his natural talent and long practice, he used his voice to focus his own energy, neutralizing certain wavelengths in the housekeeper’s aura. She went very still. Her face was suddenly expressionless.

  “I understand,” Mrs. Cleeves said tonelessly. She gazed straight ahead into the middle distance.

  “You open the front door and go down the steps. Where is Fog?”

  “He is with me on a leash.”

  “Do you see anyone?”

  “There is a gentleman on the other side of the street.”

  “What is he doing?”

  “He looks at me and then he walks off toward the corner.”

  “Describe him to me.”

  “He is very elegant.”

  “Can you see his face?”

  “Only a little. His head is turned away from me. He tilts his hat slightly. I can see the edge of his jaw.”

  “Is he young or old?”

  “He is a young man in his prime.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “By the way he moves.”

  “Can you see his hair?”

  “Yes. There is some showing beneath his hat.”

  “What color is it?”

  “Very pale blond, almost white.”

  “Can you describe his clothes?”

  “His coat is gray. So are his trousers.”

  “Does he carry anything in his hands?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “A walking stick.”

  “You will awaken now, Mrs. Cleeves.”

  Mrs. Cleeves blinked and looked at him expectantly. “When will you be wanting to try to hypnotize me, sir?”

  “I have changed my mind,” Thaddeus said. “I have concluded that you are indeed too strong-minded to be put into a trance. You may go now. Thank you for your assistance in this matter.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Looking rather disappointed at not having been able to display her strength of mind, Mrs. Cleeves went back down the hall toward the kitchen.