by C. J. Archer
I waited until we reached the pavement, but I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. "Are you two meeting up?"
Willie headed toward Woodall and our waiting carriage, her strides long and purposeful. "I asked her to meet me down at the docks tonight."
"Why?"
"She was making cow eyes at me."
"Cow eyes?"
"Fluttering her long lashes. Cows have long lashes."
"I've never noticed."
"I asked her if she wants to see me again and she said she did, but not here." Willie opened the carriage door and practically dived in, so quickly did she want to leave. "Angelique thinks—"
"Angelique? You're already on first name basis?"
She shrugged. "Angelique thinks Lord Farnsworth pays the butcher's boy to report any callers she gets. You visiting today ain't so bad. She can tell him you're a whore friend."
I groaned.
"But if someone dressed like a man comes on his own at night, Farnsworth wouldn't like it," Willie went on. "Told you she was a prisoner."
"She's not a prisoner. No woman should have gentlemen callers at night, anyway. You know, you could negate the problem by wearing a dress."
She pulled a face. "No one's worth that. Besides, I think she likes me in this."
Going by the heat in Miss L'Amour's gaze as she watched Willie walk off, I tended to agree.
Willie settled into the corner of the cabin with a smile. "You got to admit, I did well in there. Not only did you get a chance to look through the bedroom, but I organized to get her out so Matt can break in tonight."
"Oh! That's why you're meeting her at the docks."
She frowned. "Why'd you think I did it?"
I shrugged. "You like beautiful women; she's a beautiful woman. She's, er…available for the right price."
Willie tipped her hat forward to cover her eyes, crossed her arms, and smiled. I doubted her only reason for meeting Miss L'Amour at the docks was to get her out of the apartment.
Matt and Duke returned home some time before the dinner gong sounded, which gave us an opportunity to exchange reports before we headed into the dining room. With Aunt Letitia dining with us this evening, all talk of investigations would be banned. Besides, Matt wouldn't want to tell her he'd been breaking into houses, and I didn't want her knowing Willie was meeting a courtesan at the docks later. With Aunt Letitia changing for dinner, the rest of us took the opportunity to meet in the library. Only Cyclops was absent.
Despite saying he would investigate Mrs. Rotherhide again, Duke had, in fact, stayed with Matt all day and watched Sir Charles Whittaker's residence. "Whittaker left first thing," Duke said. "Just after the housekeeper arrived."
"I thought she was live-in," I said.
"It doesn't appear so." Matt handed Duke and Willie a glass of brandy each. That was another thing Aunt Letitia wouldn't like—drinking liquor before dinner. In honor of her I refused, and Matt abstained too.
"It was an age before she left again," Duke went on. "But by then the char woman had arrived. So we waited until she finally left too. Not knowing how long we had before the housekeeper returned, we got in and out real quick."
"We didn't need much time anyway," Matt said. "There was only one locked drawer in Whittaker's writing desk and that was easy to get into. It contained the purchase papers for the carriage and horses he recently bought, as well as other receipts for furniture. There were no keys, no deposit box numbers, no paperwork for other properties where he could have hidden his collection. No signs of a collection at all."
"What about hidden rooms?" Willie asked.
"We checked for loose floorboards and hollow wall panels, we looked for false drawers and compartments. We upturned furniture, measured for unaccounted spaces… We looked everywhere."
"Could be a mechanism you've never come across," she said. "Maybe a trigger that opens up a slim panel or something."
Matt shrugged.
Duke swirled the contents of his glass. "It was real strange. He had no personal things there except for a picture of himself and an older woman. Could be his mother."
"There were no banking details," Matt added. "No deeds for shareholdings, not even letters."
"How odd," I said.
"He could just be real private," Duke said.
"And have no friends or family," Willie added.
"That's quite sad," I said. If I had not found Matt when I did, I too would be without family, and my only friend would be Catherine. The thought left a hollow feeling in my gut. Poor Sir Charles.
"What did you two get up to today?" Matt asked. "Did you go for a walk in the park? A drive? Did you meet with Charbonneau?"
Willie stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankles. "We did our own investigating. We ain't letting you boys have all the fun."
"Fun?" Duke barked a laugh. "Standing on your feet all day waiting for a house to become empty ain't fun."
"I wish you'd tell me when you're going investigating," Matt said to me.
"You weren't here when we decided to go," I told him. "And I left a message with Bristow."
"And she had me." Willie raised her glass in salute.
Duke grunted. "That's why he worries."
Willie poked her tongue out at him.
"We visited Lord Farnsworth’s courtesan," I told them.
"What's she like?" Duke addressed his question to Willie.
"She's a real beauty," Willie said with a tilt of her lips.
"She seems nice," I added with a pointed glare for Willie. "Why are women always judged by their looks first? Beauty doesn't matter."
"It does for the whores of rich men."
"Courtesans. Anyway." I turned back to Matt who was watching us with a smirk. "Willie managed to distract Miss L'Amour long enough for me to have a quick look around the bedroom, which is probably the only room where Farnsworth could hide a coronet. It was a very small place."
"What did you find?" Matt asked.
"There's a locked trunk at the foot of the bed. You should look in there first."
"We arranged it so you can break in tonight," Willie added.
"How?" Duke asked.
"By getting Angelique out of her apartment. I'm meeting her at midnight at the docks."
"Are you mad? She's a whore!"
"Courtesan," Willie said with a sniff. "And I can afford her."
"Why the docks?" Matt asked.
"I can't bring her back here, can I? Anyway, it was all I could think of at the time."
"What if Farnsworth visits her and she's not there? He'll get suspicious. If he's paying for her lodgings, he won't share her."
Willie smirked. "He won’t share her with a man. I bet he ain't even considered sharing her with a woman."
"Be careful down at the docks," Duke said with a shake of his head. "It's rough at night."
"It's well lit and bobbies keep an eye out for thieves but ignore the whores as long as they don't cause a ruckus. The rich merchants ain't taking any chances with their goods getting stolen from the warehouses."
"Duke and I'll look around the apartment while she’s out," Matt said. "We'll start with the trunk."
"That's if he did hide the coronet at Angelique's place," Willie added. "It could be in his own house. We've got to wait for Cyclops to get us inside."
"I'm quite sure we decided we weren't breaking into Lord Farnsworth's house," I said. "There are too many servants. It's too dangerous."
"How else are we going to know if he's hidden it in there? Tell her, Duke."
Duke looked disappointed but he managed a shrug before draining the rest of his glass.
"Is something wrong?" Matt asked.
"I was going to have supper with Mrs. Rotherhide later then spend the night. S'pose I better let her know I can't make it."
"Again?" Willie scoffed. "She's not tired of you yet?"
"You can still go," I said. "I'll be Matt's lookout. I've done it before. It'll be fun."
Matt narrowed his gaze. "Fu
n?"
I waved a hand in dismissal. "More entertaining than waiting here worrying about you. You go and see Mrs. Rotherhide, Duke. Enjoy yourself. You too, Willie. Be sure to keep Miss L'Amour occupied for as long as possible."
Willie grinned into her glass. "I reckon I can do that."
"Oh, there's something else," I said quickly, in an attempt to distract myself from Willie's gloating. "Mrs. Delancey asked Mrs. Landers to invite me to her soiree tomorrow. The invitation arrived in the last post of the day. You're invited too, Matt."
After dinner, Duke headed out to Mrs. Rotherhide’s, while Matt and I sat with Aunt Letitia in the sitting room. Willie had retreated to her bedroom. Bristow entered at ten past nine and announced that Cyclops was outside and wished to speak with us. Matt and I met him at Lord Farnsworth's carriage, where he stood by the horses, alone.
"I just took Farnsworth to his club where he's going to dine with friends," Cyclops said. "I've got an hour and a half before I have to collect him."
"Where is he going after that?" I asked.
"I don't know yet, but I know it ain't home. According to the other staff, he's out every night, even Sundays."
"We do know he's not seeing his mistress tonight," Matt said. "She told Willie she's available. They're meeting at the docks. I'm going to check inside her apartment while she's out."
Cyclops chuckled. "Willie doesn't waste any opportunity."
"Come inside out of the cold," I said. "Peter will watch the carriage for a while. You should eat something."
"I ate before I left. Farnsworth's cook's good, but not as good as Mrs. Potter."
"I'll be sure to tell her you said that. No doubt there'll be extra helpings for you when you return."
He flashed a grin. "I'll get going and drive around for a while. But I came to tell you what I learned today about Farnsworth. According to the footman, his lordship has been out every night for the last two weeks, and comes home real late, sometimes at dawn. Farnsworth being out 'til all hours ain't unusual, but what was unusual about one particular night this week was what happened the next day. The coachman was dismissed without warning or explanation. When I asked which night that was, the footman said Monday."
"The night Cox's townhouse was broken into and the coronet stolen," Matt said.
"I reckon Farnsworth had his coachman drive him to Cox's and wait while he burgled it. Later, he got scared that the papers would report it and the coachman would read about the theft and realize that's where he took his master. Farnsworth didn't know at the time that Cox wanted to keep it out of the papers."
"But dismissing the coachman wouldn't have stopped him reporting it to the police," I said. "In fact, he'd be more likely to report the man who dismissed him."
Cyclops shook his head. "According to the other staff, the coachman can't read. If he'd stayed in Farnsworth's employment, he might have heard something about the theft from the others if they read about it. But being unemployed, he wouldn't be around servants who gossip about their masters and mistresses. It ain't easy to get another job in the city if you don't have a reference from your last place. He might be without work for months. He might not even get back into service."
"We should look for the coachman," Matt said with a nod of approval.
"I'll see if any of the servants know where he went."
"What about the keys to get into Farnsworth's townhouse?"
"Matt," I warned. "You're not breaking in."
"I'll see what I can do," Cyclops said.
"Be careful," I told him.
The streetlights glowed softly, like faraway moons. The cool air was still, the night silent except for our footsteps on the pavement. Walking after midnight with my husband would be quite romantic if not for the task ahead of us. Despite having broken into houses before, my heart pounded, my skin felt cold. I would never get used to it, but I was determined not to show Matt my fear.
I led him to the butcher's shop and indicated the door to Miss L'Amour's apartment. He gave a single nod and checked the vicinity. We were alone. The street that had been a hive of activity during the day was now empty of people and traffic. I took particular note of the butcher's shop. If Miss L'Amour was correct, and the youth reported all comings and goings to Lord Farnsworth, I'd have to create a diversion so Matt could enter undetected.
The butcher's shop was shrouded in darkness, the nearest streetlight reflecting in the window like an eerie, disembodied orb. There was no sign of anyone inside or outside the shop.
"Keep your knife in your hand," Matt whispered. "Be prepared."
I took the small blade out of my pocket and clutched it firmly. Then I sank into the shadows near Miss L'Amour's door.
Matt went to work on the lock and quickly had it open. He slipped inside and disappeared, leaving the door slightly ajar. I scanned the street, straining to hear into the deep darkness.
A dog barked in the distance; a night bird cawed; carriage wheels rumbled like low thunder at the end of the street before fading.
Silence again.
My palms became clammy, my fingers cramping as I clutched the knife tight.
A light breeze caressed my cheek and dust swirled in the gutters. I scanned the street, left and right, opposite. The shadows were thick, the light cast by the lamps pathetically thin.
Still, there was no sound. Not even from inside Miss L'Amour's residence.
Not even when Matt emerged. My heart leapt into my throat at his sudden reappearance.
He simply shook his head and took my hand. The steady stroke of his gloved thumb over mine soothed my nerves. We were safe. It wasn't a trap. Miss L'Amour had not somehow guessed we were going to break in tonight and tricked us. She really had gone to the docks for a rendezvous with Willie.
Matt and I left, hand in hand like forbidden lovers sneaking away for a tryst.
A visitor just after dawn was never welcome. Even less so when it was a policeman.
Bristow was already awake and answered the door, sending Peter to fetch Matt. We both threw on housecoats, me over my nightgown and he over nothing, and hurried down the stairs.
The hulking form of a large constable stood in our entrance hall, red faced and unable to look either of us in the eye. I clutched my housecoat at the collar but it was tightly buttoned up. Matt wasn't showing any flesh either, except for his feet and ankles. So why the blushes?
"I'm sorry for this, sir, madam," the young constable said, still not looking up from the floor tiles. "But your name was given and I was ordered to fetch you."
"My name was given by whom?" Matt demanded.
"The woman we arrested last night. She insisted we come get you. Made an almighty fuss until my sergeant gave in and sent me as soon as it was light."
Dread settled into the pit of my stomach.
"What woman?" From the heavy tone of Matt's voice, I sensed he'd guessed the answer too.
"Her name's Willemina Johnson. She says she's your cousin. If she's not, I'll tell my sergeant—"
"She is." Matt sighed. "What did she do?"
The constable shifted his weight from foot to foot and his face grew redder. "I'd rather not say, sir. Not in front of your wife."
"Out with it," I snapped at him. It was too early for games. I didn't know what Willie had done, but I was already furious at her for dragging us out of bed at this hour.
The constable cleared his throat. "She—er…she was soliciting—"
"I doubt that," Matt growled. "Whatever Willie is, she's not a prostitute."
"That may be, sir, and soliciting is awful hard to determine with certainty. I can assure you she wasn't arrested for that."
"Then what was she arrested for?" I asked.
The constable chewed on his lower lip.
"Well?" Matt prompted.
"Gross indecency."
Chapter 10
The sergeant on duty at the Leman Street police station was a fool. He wouldn't believe Matt when he informed him that gross indecency only app
lied to sexual activity between men, not women.
"Course it applies to two women being…intimate," the sergeant said. "It's indecent."
I rolled my eyes for what must have been the hundredth time since arriving. The thick-necked, pock-marked sergeant refused to release Willie even though the charges were made up. The night shift weren't the smartest, I'd quickly realized. They were the burliest policemen, the ones unafraid to go out at night into London's rotten core. They were employed for their formidable size, hard fists and firm jaws, not for their knowledge of the finer points of law. To be fair, I doubted this particular predicament arose often, if ever.
"If my cousin hasn't been arrested for soliciting then she has to be released," Matt said. "What about the other woman? Did you arrest her too?"
"She got away." The sergeant returned to his ledger. "You should go home and get her a lawyer, sir. That's why you were notified, at your cousin's request."
"My lawyer is in bed," Matt said through clenched teeth. His temper had risen when the conversation with the sergeant began, but it had remained at a simmering, civilized level. I suspected it wouldn't be long before it boiled over.
The sergeant's gaze flicked up to me then back down to his ledger.
Matt blew out a breath like a bull just before it charges. "If I bring my lawyer down here and he explains the law to you, will you release her?"
"On the say-so of your lawyer?" The sergeant scoffed. "No. You have to wait for the prosecution office to get back to me."
"And when will that be?"
The sergeant flipped open the case of his pocket watch. "The office doesn't open for another two hours. That'll coincide with a change of shift here. I'll wait for one of the new constables to come in then by the time he reaches the office, waits to speak to one of the prosecutors, then gets back here…I'd say another three hours or more." He slipped the watch back into his pocket with a slow move that I suspected was deliberately done to frustrate us. Just like Brockwell.
Brockwell! If anyone knew the finer points of the law it would be the man who wrote down every word in an interview, whose moral compass never deviated, and who liked to lecture anyone who would listen about the law.
