by Rebecca King
“What’s the problem with that?” he murmured, unsure where she was going with this.
She looked at him. “His tools have appeared in his study.”
Joe studied the table-top. “No clocks to work on?”
She slowly shook her head. “There is no reason to bring his tools home with him. He has never done so before, especially when there are no clocks to mend. I get the distinct impression that he hasn’t wanted to leave them at the shop for some reason.”
“Sounds to me like we should search the shop,” Kerrigan murmured.
“I can do that later,” Reg offered.
Jacob shook his head. “You need to go and see Sir Hugo, to find out if Ben has appeared.”
Reg looked about to protest. A dark frown settled on his brow but, whatever he was thinking, he didn’t argue.
“In fact, I think it is best if you go now. The sooner Sir Hugo finds out what has happened the better,” Kerrigan murmured.
Reg sighed heavily and looked at everyone in turn. Eventually, he huffed and left the table. He slammed out of the house without saying a word.
A stilted silence settled over everyone until the distant sound of hooves on cobbles racing away broke the silence. Kerrigan then left the table and bolted the door.
“What is going on?” Marguerite murmured, wishing she could be alone with Joe to talk to him freely.
“We don’t have long. We need to go and search your father’s shop. Tell me how we get in there, Marguerite.”
The urgency in Joe’s voice was alarming.
“What is it?” She whispered. “What do you think has happened to my father?”
“I don’t know,” Joe sighed.
“I am coming with you,” she said flatly. “There is an assistant there; a man called Donaldson. He won’t allow you in if you just appear at the back door.”
Joe mentally swore. He hated to take her with him but couldn’t leave her in the house. There were only a few of them trustworthy enough to be involved in this now, especially given that Barnaby was still on his honeymoon, and Luke hadn’t returned from the country yet. It was safest if Marguerite stayed with him.
He didn’t like it, but Joe could see no better alternative.
“Before we go,” Kerrigan began. “Has your father reported any burglaries at the shop of late?”
Marguerite shook her head. “He is fastidious with his security. There are bars on the windows, that kind of thing. It is most odd for him not to leave his tools in his workshop.”
“Are they still at the house?” Joe asked. He hated the thought of having to go back but would if it meant that he could see Eustace’s tools for himself.
Marguerite nodded. “They are in his desk drawer in the study.”
Joe sighed. “I need to go and look at the house again.”
He had never seen a clock-maker’s tools before but suspected they would be small, and more likely the kind of tool a thief would use to gain access to things that don’t belong to them. It may be the reason why Sayers needed the clockmaker.
Joe nodded. “Do you do anything to help him in his business?”
Marguerite shook his head. “I run the house, with Mrs Tingay’s help. My father spends most of his days in his workshop and only comes home at night.”
Joe frowned at that. It sounded like an isolated existence for her. He wondered if that was why her father wanted her to marry, to give her some company. At least married she would have a husband to talk to and would be able to attend many more social functions. To an innocent person who didn’t know about the hardened criminal who lurked beneath the debonair exterior, the Count was indeed the catch of the season. Joe was curious to find out how the Count and Marguerite’s father came into contact in the first place.
“I don’t wish to upset you, but does your father have a criminal record of any kind?”
Marguerite looked at him in astonishment. “He is a staid and proper businessman,” she replied firmly. “No. Not as far as I am aware. Why? Do you?”
Joe smiled and shook his head. “No. I joined the army as soon as I came of age and was shipped aboard as soon as I had completed my training. I spent my time on the battlefields and then came home.”
“But this house isn’t the normal house of a soldier,” she said.
Immediately she clamped her mouth closed and looked at him in silent apology when she realised how rude she had been.
“Most of the men here have been in the army,” Kerrigan assured her. “The house doesn’t belong to any of us. It belongs to the government. We just use it whenever we have a cause to be in town.”
“Like investigating Sayers?”
They all nodded.
“We need to go,” Jacob prompted, already drawing on his cloak.
Marguerite shivered and reluctantly tugged her own cloak on.
“Are you sure you are alright to do this? You haven’t rested properly. Although it looks like the fog is lifting, it is going to be dark soon.” Joe kept his voice low but couldn’t hide his concern. He was too busy studying the dark circles beneath her eyes and didn’t see the sharp look Jacob and Kerrigan exchanged. Neither man mentioned it, however. Instead, they looked at Marguerite curiously.
“Let’s go then, but stay close to Joe here,” Kerrigan murmured, slightly stunned by Joe’s possessiveness toward her.
“There is one more thing,” Joe said before they left to find their missing colleagues. “Just in case anything happens, Sayers thinks me and Marguerite are engaged.”
Kerrigan burst out laughing. Jacob hid his grin, but barely while Jacob snorted his disbelief.
“Good Lord, and all in one night two,” Brandon chortled as he clapped his colleague on the shoulder. “Just be grateful you didn’t have to stay for two nights, or else God knows what you could have committed yourself to.”
“A few children to go with the happy home no doubt,” Kerrigan added dryly with a cheeky wink for Marguerite.
She felt her cheeks burn but took no offense at their ribbing. In fact, the idea of it brought forth a rather pleasant rush that made their teasing much more bearable.
Once everyone had their cloaks on, Joe handed Marguerite the small gun and a handful of bullets.
“Remember, only use it when you have to.” He quickly showed her how to reload it.
“I know,” she said when he had finished.
Kerrigan coughed around his laughter. “Guns too?”
Joe rolled his eyes but had to agree with him. She had amazed him with how well she had handled the last day or so. Not only had she learned to shoot a gun, but she followed instructions to the letter, and nothing seemed to faze her. Now, here she was, tired, cold, probably still hungry, yet she was heading out into the inclement weather to help them search for Eustace.
Marguerite, unaware of his thoughts, followed everyone out of the house before Joe could change his mind. She was grateful that he was sticking to his agreement and prepared to help her look for her father, not least because she was very much aware now that she wouldn’t have been able to do it on her own.
“I think you need to consider that at some point during your father’s work, he has come into contact with Sayers,” Joe announced as they made their way to the back of the house, and the long row of stables where their horses waited.
“Who is he exactly? Sayers, I mean. When I was talking to him it became evident that his accent is dropped occasionally and a London accent filters into his manner of speech. I take it he isn’t Russian then?”
“No, he isn’t Russian.” Joe sighed, aware that his colleagues were listening. “He was born to a dockhand who still lives in the East End actually. I use the term ‘lives’ loosely, you understand? He is in prison at the moment serving time for theft and murder. It seems that the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree because Sayers has entered the criminal lifestyle after him. Unfortunately for all of us normal people, he has thrived in the criminal underworld and gathered himself a veritable arm
y of miscreants who are willing and able to commit all sorts of crimes. His network stretches far and wide and, significantly, into people from all walks of life.”
“Aristocracy?” she asked weakly.
Joe nodded grimly. “Unfortunately, nobody wears a sign around their neck saying that they are involved in nefarious activities so unless they do something foolhardy, we are unlikely to know who is involved in Sayers’ criminal gang until they wind up dead. Normally, loved ones don’t know of their foray into the seedier side of life until their relation ends up dead. By then it is too late. Sayers has earned himself a vast fortune and has little interest or respect for those who get caught up in his schemes. If anybody winds up dead, then that is their loss, not his. He merely steps over them because there are usually ten other people he can bully into joining his network of thugs.”
“Do you think my father is one of them?” she whispered, horrified at the thought. Everything within her froze while she waited for him to look at her and give her the honest truth. She closed her eyes when he spoke.
“I am afraid it is looking that way. While I can’t say for certain, Sayers wants to get his hands on you quite desperately. If your father hasn’t already agreed to help the thug, Sayers might be keen to get his hands on you so he can persuade your father to co-operate.”
“What a horrible man,” she whispered.
Joe nodded. “Once we find your father, it might be wise for him to vanish for a while.”
While he said that, the thought of Marguerite vanishing made him shift restlessly. He stood beside the door of the stable keeping watch over the yard while his colleagues saddled the horses and got the carriage ready. It left him with enough time to be able to explain what was going to happen to her and think about what his life would be like once she wasn’t in it. He was disconcerted to realise he was dreading that day happening.
“I hope Sayers hasn’t gotten him,” she whispered.
“Like I have said, Sayers can be brutal. While I have no reason to think he may have hurt your father, that situation may change if he doesn’t get what he wants.”
“He wants me,” Marguerite replied.
Joe stood upright and landed a hard glare on her. “You are not going to hand yourself over to him. Do you hear me?”
Marguerite nodded. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn. “I couldn’t.”
“Good,” he whispered. “See that you don’t.”
He knew he would protect her with his life to stop her from doing anything like that. She meant more to him than anybody else in his life right now, only he couldn’t quite understand why. He knew it had nothing to do with his work with the Star Elite. The need to protect her was elemental: the raw need of a man to protect his mate. Where had it come from? Why now?
Mate? Really? He mused. I hate to acknowledge it, but I know that she is.
His thoughts were confirmed as fact when he found himself unable to stand even a few feet of distance between them any longer, Joe moved to stand before her and rested his head against hers for a few moments, silently offering her reassurance as well as taking it. He welcomed the moment that brought them closer together and revelled in this brief moment of intimacy.
“I just want my father back. I don’t understand any of this. I mean, my father is just an ordinary businessman. Why him? Out of all the people in London, why has Sayers become interested in us? We have done nothing to anybody,” she whispered.
Sensing her rising anxiety, Joe hastened to reassure her.
“Sayers doesn’t need a reason. If someone has something he wants he takes it, it is as simple as that. He doesn’t care about kith and kin or hearth and home. None of that matters to him.”
“He needs locking away,” she whispered.
“He will be, Marguerite. Before he is arrested, though, we need to make sure we get information on all of his crimes so that he is unlikely ever to be released to harm anybody again. Not only that, but there are innocent people drawn into his crimes, and forced to co-operate, sometimes quite brutally. These people are ruthless, Marguerite, and all need to be rounded up and put behind bars. It isn’t just Sayers we need to arrest. We need to get as many people as we can in one go, but to do it means that we have to investigate all of Sayers’ crimes thoroughly, and identify those responsible. It takes time, and a lot of manpower and effort. We will get there, though, I promise.”
“I know,” she whispered. She really did believe they would. After today, she had complete faith in him and his men. After what they had shared, how could she doubt him?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“This is who you are,” she whispered. It was evident in the passion with which he spoke. She knew instinctively that this was where he felt comfortable and wasn’t surprised when he nodded.
“It is my life, my work. Everything I do right now is focused around capturing that man. We will get him, it just takes time.”
Marguerite nodded. Something inside her felt a little defeated, as though she was expecting something from him he was in no position to offer her. She couldn’t survive in a world like his. She would be dead within a week and knew it. While she could understand his need to put someone like Sayers, and his men, behind bars, she couldn’t understand why he would be so willing to put his life at risk.
“It is going to take more than five men, though,” she whispered as she watched Kerrigan lead two horses out of the stables.
“We have a veritable army at our disposal as well,” Joe replied wryly. “Don’t forget we have connections with the War Office. There are men up and down the country who can be called upon at a moment’s notice. Believe me when I tell you there are many people working on capturing that crook. It isn’t a case of if he is going to be arrested it is a case of when.”
Marguerite nodded, secretly thrilled and proud of him at the same time. She could only hope they would be able to find her father before Sayers persuaded him to do something rash, like get involved in his crimes.
To her surprise, Joe handed her into a carriage. She didn’t stop to question him, though, and instead, settled back into the plush seat with a heartfelt sigh. Surprisingly, Joe sat next to her. He sensed she was thinking through everything he had told her. When the door was closed, he rested their clasped hands on his knee and waited. He didn’t have to wait long before the questions began.
“Why does Sayers want to get into the ton? Is he looking for influential people to join his network of people?” She asked with a frown.
“Partly,” Joe replied, a little surprised that the question hadn’t been about her father. Still, he could appreciate her need to understand Sayers a little more, and had no hesitation in discussion what he knew. “The houses of the ton are usually stuffed with valuable items of all shapes and sizes, including expensive jewels. Sayers, if he can get his hands on the jewels, can sell them on for a hefty profit. It doesn’t matter to him that he has to send men in to steal them for him. He won’t dirty his hands himself, by the way. He has some thieves to do it for him. Once he has the gems, he then pays someone else to split the gems from the gold. The gold is the melted and remoulded into something else while the gems are then broken down, polished and set into the new pieces. They are then sold on at Sayers’ prices.”
“That man in the house?” she whispered.
“Which one?”
“The dead one.”
“He was one of Sayers’ thieves. A few months ago he stole some gems that Sayers had told him to steal. Sayers usually sees them hanging around women’s necks at the social engagements he attends. We think it is why he is pretending to be a Russian Count. It gets him into places he otherwise wouldn’t be allowed to enter, and he is then able to watch and pick his victims at will.” Joe lifted a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “Before you ask, I have no idea why he chose to be a Russian Count. It is just odd, and so far removed from his normal life that he probably suspects nobody would link the two together. It may be that he could master the Rus
sian accent better than, perhaps, a French one. I don’t know. Anyway, he sees what he wants at these social functions. He then orders his thieves to steal them and gives them descriptions of what to look for, and where to find them. I have no doubt that he takes the opportunity to search the rooms to look for the safes while he is at these social functions.”
Marguerite’s heart leapt. “Wait! Do you mean that was why he was in that room last night? He was looking for the safe?”
Joe looked at her knowingly. “Well, if you didn’t have a secret assignation with him, and hadn’t seen him before last night, why else would he know to go in there? I know from my own search that the safe is located behind the bookshelf you studied.”
“You checked?”
“I was there to monitor Sayers, and saw you talking with the man everyone calls the Count,” Joe replied honestly.
“So he was there to search for the safe.” She shivered at the duplicity of accepting someone’s hospitality only to double cross them in such a merciless way.
“Well, he also wanted to accost you given what he claims your father has agreed to. However, because this is Sayers we are talking about, I wouldn’t trust anything he tells you. Unless your father has been on at you to find a husband then it is highly unlikely that a man like Sayers, who is trying to build a reputation as Russian Count, would bargain with a clockmaker for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Unless he wants something either the clockmaker has,” Marguerite added with a nod but then froze and looked at Joe in horror. “Like a skill or something.”
Joe nodded.
“So he may not want me after all,” Marguerite murmured.
There was such relief in her voice that Joe grinned at her. “He is trying to get me out of the way so that he can come after you. He hates me because I am stopping him threatening you into going along with whatever schemes he has you earmarked for.”
Considering what he knew about Sayers’ network, Joe didn’t doubt it was the latter. Marguerite was delightful in her own right. She was tempting, beautiful, clever, sensual, and lively, but she had nothing about her that many better connected young ladies didn’t have.
