Don't Look Back (18 page)

Lavinia contemplated that briefly. "You have a point. Furthermore, the killer is no doubt aware by now that we are looking for him. One would, indeed, think that he would want to get rid of the Medusa as swiftly as possible."

Mr. Nightingale studied Tobias from beneath his slouchy cap. "The murder is your affair. I told ye, I've got no interest in it. I'm a simple man of business, and me only concern here is for the profit that's to be made if this thing is handled properly. Well, sir? Have we got a bargain?"

"Mrs. Lake is correct," Tobias said slowly. "If we recover the bracelet, it must be returned to its rightful owner."

"Now, see here," Mr. Nightingale began heatedly, "I thought ye just said—"

Tobias cut him off with a raised hand. "However, as you noted, the owner is not in the best of health, and the lady who is in line to inherit apparently has no particular interest in antiquities. For a fee, I would be willing to put your offer before her. I cannot guarantee that she will deal with you, but at least you would have a chance of obtaining the Medusa."

"Huh." Nightingale mulled that over for a long moment. "The profit would not be nearly so high if I must first purchase the Medusa from Banks's heir. I would no doubt be obliged to give her a fair price for the damned relic. And then there would be your fee on top of it, March."

"Something tells me you would do very nicely out of the arrangement," Tobias said easily. "Your clientele is not the sort to quibble over your inflated prices. All they care about is acquiring the Medusa."

"And just think of the advantages, sir," Lavinia said smoothly. "Any bargain you struck with Banks's heir would be legal and without risk."

Mr. Nightingale waved that aside with a cramped hand. "Takes some of the sport out of it, if ye ask me."

"Nevertheless," Tobias said, "that is all we are prepared to offer. Take it or leave it."

"Damn yer eyes, March, can't ye see there's more profit in this for all of us if we keep the heir out of it?"

"Unfortunately, we've got our professional reputations to consider," Tobias said. "Can't have gossip going around that March and Lake are in the habit of taking advantage of heirs. Not good for business."

"Humph." Mr. Nightingale rapped his walking stick on the ground a couple of times. "Very well, if that's your only offer, I'll accept it. Mind ye, though, if the Medusa falls into me hands from some other source, our arrangement no longer stands. I won't owe ye or Banks's heir a penny."

He turned away without another word and made to move off into the shadows, one foot dragging heavily.

"I understand," Tobias said quietly to his back. "But if matters transpire in that fashion, do not be surprised if the heir hires us to recover her stolen bracelet. In which event, we would know precisely where to look."

Mr. Nightingale halted and looked back over his hunched shoulder. "Is that a threat, March?"

"Consider it more in the nature of a bit of professional advice," Tobias said softly.

"Bah. I'll give ye some advice in return. If ye and your lady hope to make your fortunes in the investigation business, ye'd best develop a more practical attitude toward matters of a financial nature."

Nightingale slouched off around the hedge without waiting for a response.

There was a short silence. When he was certain they were alone again, Tobias took Lavinia's arm and started toward the bright lights of the ballroom.

"There is something I have been meaning to tell you," Lavinia said quietly.

"A shudder of dread passes through me whenever you say those words, madam."

"It is about Mrs. Rushton, Banks's heir."

"What about her?"

"I suspect that she may be involved in this in some manner."

He stopped and turned so that he could examine her face in the glow that spilled from the ballroom windows. "What the devil are you talking about?"

"I may have neglected to mention that after we got Banks's name from Tredlow this afternoon, Emeline and I called at the Banks mansion."

"Yes, you certainly did neglect to mention that little tidbit," he said evenly. "Why?"

She made a face. "If you must know, I was saving it for a surprise."

"Allow me to inform you, Lavinia," he said, aware of a painful tightness in his jaw, "that there is
nothing
I hate more than a surprise in the course of an investigation."

"Yes, well, it was only a small one," she muttered. "I suppose I wanted to impress you. Or maybe simply make a point."

"What the devil is your point?"

Irritation flared in her eyes. "My point is that you are forever assuming the role of instructor and expert in our partnership. Always going off to consult your private connections. Connections, I might add, that you refuse to introduce to me."

"Damn it, Lavinia—"

"I wanted to demonstrate that I was perfectly capable of conducting my share of an investigation."

He said nothing.

"You need not look at me like that, Tobias. We are equals in this partnership, and I have every right to pursue my own inquiries when the opportunities present themselves."

"Bloody hell."

"Calling at the Banks mansion was a perfectly logical thing to do. After all, Mrs. Rushton might be a suspect."

"A suspect? Mrs. Rushton?"

"You are the one who has pointed out on more than one occasion that heirs sometimes grow impatient." Triumph blazed in her eyes. "Furthermore, if she is not a suspect, she may well be a potential client. After all, as a victim of theft, she has a great interest in recovering the Medusa. She may be persuaded to pay us a fee to find it for her."

He could not quarrel with her logic, he thought. But that did nothing to improve his temper.

"Did you speak to Mrs. Rushton?" he asked.

"No. She was out for the afternoon."

"I see." He relaxed slightly.

"Taking her weekly mesmeric treatment," Lavinia added very deliberately. "It seems the lady suffers from delicate nerves."

He could see that she was extremely pleased with herself. "The news that Mrs. Rushton is taking treatments from a mesmerist is your big surprise?"

Her delight faded to a disgruntled expression. "You must admit that it is a striking connection."

"Lavinia, half of London takes mesmeric treatments for nerves or rheumatism."

"Not
half."
She glared. "You must admit that there is more than a mere hint of a coincidence here. Our case involves a dead woman who was intimately associated with the practice of mesmerism, and now we have a possible suspect who takes mesmeric treatments. I intend to investigate Mrs. Rushton more closely."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

He gripped the edge of the terrace wall while he contemplated the possibilities.

"I will accompany you," he said finally.

"Thank you, but that is not necessary." She gave a disdainful little sniff. "I can handle this by myself."

"I have no doubt of that, madam." He smiled coldly. "But I cannot resist the opportunity to watch you at work. Perhaps you are right. I may have been overlooking your contributions to this partnership. It is time I paid attention to see if I can learn a few things from you."

Lavinia and Tobias were ushered into Lord Banks's hushed, heavily draped drawing room shortly after two the following afternoon.

The interior of the mansion was even more depressing than the exterior, Lavinia thought. The colors were muddy and dark; the items of furniture, large, heavy, and old-fashioned.

A severe-looking woman of indeterminate years sat reading a book near the window. She was dressed in somber brown bombazine. A handsome, decorative chatelaine, with several keys attached, hung from a cord at her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot.

"Good afternoon," Mrs. Rushton said in uninviting tones.

She put down her book and peered first at Lavinia, with a distinct lack of interest. But when she switched her attention to Tobias, her expression brightened immediately.

Rather like a cat that has just spotted a bird in the garden, Lavinia thought.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Lavinia said more coldly than she had intended. "We will try not to take too much of your time, but we feel certain you will be interested in what we have to say."

"Please, sit down." Mrs. Rushton smiled very warmly at Tobias as she motioned her guests to the brown sofa.

Lavinia seated herself, but Tobias went to take up his favored position at the nearest window, putting what little light seeped into the room behind him, as was his habit.

"I shall come straight to the point," Lavinia said. "My associate, Mr. March, and I are in the business of conducting private inquiries."

That information succeeded in distracting Mrs. Rushton briefly from Tobias. She blinked a couple of times at Lavinia. "I don't understand. I thought Bow Street Runners handled that sort of thing."

"We are employed by a more exclusive sort of clientele than that which patronizes Bow Street," Lavinia said.

"I see." Mrs. Rushton looked blank.

"Persons of quality who insist upon the utmost discretion come to us," Lavinia added by way of clarification.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tobias's mouth twitch in that very annoying fashion that made her want to grind her teeth. She paid no attention. It was important to establish the proper impression upon a potential client. She understood such things, even if he did not.

"Indeed." Mrs. Rushton's attention drifted back toward Tobias. "How interesting."

"At the moment," Lavinia said icily, "we are searching for a killer."

"Good heavens." Mrs. Rushton put a hand to her bosom. Her eyes widened. "How very bizarre. I have never heard of ladies pursuing that sort of career."

"It is rather uncommon," Lavinia agreed. "But that is neither here nor there. Please allow me to explain our business with you. Mr. March and I have reason to believe that a woman who was murdered recently stole something of considerable value from this household shortly before her death."

"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Rushton stared at her. "But that is impossible. I assure you that no one has broken into this house." She looked around quickly. "See for yourself. The silver is still here. Nothing is missing."

"The object in question is a very old bracelet," Tobias said.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Rushton said with great authority. "I would most certainly have noticed a bracelet missing from my jewelry box."

"This was an extremely ancient piece of jewelry known among collectors as the Blue Medusa," Lavinia said. "Do you know it?"

Mrs. Rushton grimaced. "If you refer to that old bracelet that my uncle keeps locked in a chest in his bedchamber, yes, of course I know it. It is really quite unfashionable and certainly not what one would call a particularly interesting antiquity. Found right here in England, I believe. Not as though it came from one of the classical ruins of Greece or Rome, now, is it?"

"Do you know why Banks acquired that particular relic after selling off his collection of antiquities?" Tobias asked.

Mrs. Rushton gave a soft snort. "If you ask me, an unscrupulous dealer took advantage of the fact that my uncle was starting to become quite confused in his thinking a year and a half ago. A result of several fits of apoplexy, I'm afraid."

"The Blue Medusa is considered quite valuable by some," Lavinia ventured cautiously.

"I will admit that the gold appears to be of excellent quality and it is rather nicely worked," Mrs. Rushton said. "But the stone is quite unattractive. I wouldn't dream of wearing it. I intend to sell the thing as soon as my uncle makes his transition. The doctor does not expect him to survive the month, you know."

"We have heard of his lordship's illness," Lavinia said gently. "Please accept our condolences."

"He has not been well for some time. It will be a blessing when he finally passes on to the next world."

A blessing for whom? Lavinia wondered.

"We understand that you moved in here to take care of him," Tobias said neutrally.

"One must do one's duty, of course," Mrs. Rushton said with a martyr's firm resolve. "There was no one else, you see. I am the last of the line. I have done my best, but I can tell you that the task has not been an easy one. It has put a great strain on my nerves, which, I must tell you, were never very strong."

"I understand," Lavinia murmured encouragingly.

"When I was a child my mother warned me that I would need to take care not to expose my delicate nerves to extreme strain. She was right. After the shock of my dear husband's death three years ago, I discovered that I was prone to female hysteria. It is a very distressing affliction. One which my doctor tells me requires regular treatments."

"If we might return to the subject of the Medusa," Tobias said before Lavinia could pursue that line of inquiry, "when was the last time you checked to see that it was secure in Banks's safe?"

"I beg your pardon? Oh, yes, the relic." Mrs. Rushton abandoned the topic of her nerves with obvious reluctance. "It has been some time since I opened the safe, but I'm certain everything is in order."

"I think it would be a good idea to make sure that the Medusa is still there," Tobias said.

"I don't see why I should—"

"It would set my mind at ease, Mrs. Rushton," Tobias said. "And greatly steady my nerves. Mine are a trifle delicate, just as yours are. You know how it is when one becomes anxious."

"Yes, of course I do." She rose immediately and went to stand very close to Tobias. She smiled up at him and patted his arm. "I had no notion that you suffered from poor nerves, sir. I understand completely. Indeed, only someone else who is similarly afflicted could possibly comprehend. You have my deepest and most sincere sympathies."

"Thank you," Tobias said. "About the bracelet—"

She winked at him. "If you will excuse me for a moment, I will just run upstairs and have a quick look so that I may put your mind at ease."

She hurried out of the drawing room.