To Catch A Thief (Saved By Desire 2) (18 page)

However, each time they stopped, footsteps continued to echo around them for a second or two until the person following stopped also.

“Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t intend to find out. I hope it is not that Myers man you met the other day,” Sophia replied coldly. “He was nothing more than a thug.”

Delilah looked panicked at that. “I am not due to meet with him for another week yet.”

“Good. Let us go. I don’t know about you, but I have no intention of being the third victim in this village.”

At that moment, Sophia came to realise just how safe she felt just knowing Jeb was in the area. Now that he had gone she felt vulnerable, lonely, and afraid. He had become such an integral part of her life in a considerably short period of time that she wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t woven some magic spell around her that had ensnared her common sense. She should be slightly worried about his impact on her life. Disturbingly, she wasn’t.

“Wherever you are, I hope you are safe,” she murmured softly as she followed Delilah into the house.

“Eh? What was that?” Delilah asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” she said and closed the door behind them with a reassuring thump.

Jeb watched the door close behind Sophia. He was relieved that she was alright, and home safely.

If the way she hurried home with her aunt, their heads close together as they whispered to each other, was any indication their rift had been healed, for the time being at least. He was also relieved to note that Delilah had not taken a bag with her, and suspected from her shawl that she hadn’t secreted anything upon her person.

Now that Sophia was safe, Jeb turned his attention to the man who had followed them all the way from the Arbuthnot residence: Myers.

“Over there,” Marcus murmured.

“I see him,” Jeb replied.

Jeb watched the dark shadow trying to stealthily creep up to the house. Although he had tried to hide when the women stopped to check the area around them, there were very few objects to hide behind and he had been visible the entire way – to the Star Elite anyway.

“That’s Myers,” Jeb whispered.

“Is that the one who beat you up?”

Marcus assessed the man who had caused Jeb so many problems. He eyed the narrowed shoulders atop a thin and slightly stooped stature, and lifted a mocking brow at his friend.

Jeb glared at him. “No, it wasn’t. The man I followed to London was the one I fought with.”

That wiped the smile of Marcus’ face. Just knowing that he might be connected to Sayers increased the danger they faced in this relatively small, sleepy village. Jeb had indeed been followed here from London, and that meant someone was watching them.

“Do we catch him?”

“Not yet,” Jeb replied. “I want to see if he is still using the Banks’ house or has moved to somewhere else while I have been away.”

He eyed Delilah’s front door as he spoke and found himself studying the windows, hoping to catch sight of Sophia, if only for a brief second, but the curtains were closed.

He had missed her terribly. He had fretted, worried, paced, stressed, and so desperate to see her just once that he had uncharacteristically snapped at his colleagues, and generally been out of sorts right until the moment he arrived back in Framley Meadow. Then, the first thing he had done was go in search of her: Sophia.

“So, is she the one?” Marcus asked casually.

“What?”

“Is the gorgeous beauty the one who has you in knots? You have been like a cat with hot paws ever since you returned to London. You practically burned a trail all the way back here. My horse will take a week to recover; he has never run so hard. I guess from your rather avid determination to follow the ladies home that there is more than a professional interest there.”

Jeb nodded and sighed. “Her name is Sophia, but I cannot think of her right now. Let’s just focus on the job at hand, shall we? Before you try to marry me off.”

Marcus laughed softly. “I never mentioned marriage. You did.”

Jeb looked at him ruefully and nodded toward Myers. Together the men watched him attempt to peer through the windows only to be thwarted by the curtains Sophia had closed. With nothing else to do, he made his way back to the Banks’ house, oblivious to Jeb and Marcus close behind.

Once Myers had gone inside to light the fire, Marcus and Jeb met with Connor, Joshua, and Barnaby, who were already watching the house.

“Joseph has gone to the Squire’s house to see if he can find those jewels. He is going to meet with us later,” Barnaby reported with a nod to the house. “Shall we?”

They all nodded. Within seconds, they had found their way into the house and converged on the unsuspecting man who was busy in the kitchen. Nobody made a sound. They got into position and remained motionless while they waited for him to notice them. As soon as he realised he was no longer alone, Myers dropped the bread he was holding and tried to flee only to find all exit points blocked by the solid strength of the Star Elite.

“Sit down,” Jeb ordered.

When Myers merely stared at them, Jeb pushed him forcefully down into a seat at the table.

“Y-y-you are that Lord’s son.” Myers scowled.

Jeb shook his head. “I am the one who is going to ask the questions around here. You will be the one who answers.”

“What do you want with me?” Myers looked frantically around the room as though searching for support. The fact that there was none only added to his panic.

“You know,” Jeb said darkly. “I overheard your conversation with Delilah Carney the other day. You were also seen meeting with your boss. I should imagine he is quite a ruthless man to work for.”

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Myers gasped.

“We could go around and around in circles, but I am a man of very little patience and you annoy me. You are outnumbered four to one and are going nowhere until I tell you. Do not try to lie to me. I know more than you realise.”

“You know nothing,” Myers blustered.

“I know you are off to jail when we are done with you and will add at least five years onto your sentence if you refuse to co-operate so it is important you tell us what we need to know.”

“You cannot just add to my sentence like that,” Myers protested confidently. “I know you. You are that Lord’s son. You aren’t the magistrate. You don’t have the authority to threaten me.” He held his hands out palms up. “Where is your proof that I have done anything wrong?”

“You don’t own the house you are sitting in for one thing. As you are trespassing, and most probably broke in here, I can only assume you murdered Morwenna Banks, the lady who owned this house. Her relatives own it now, so you have broken in and are trespassing. Seeing as Mrs Banks was strangled in this house, you probably murdered her once you got in here. You were also overheard making threats to Delilah Carney, and ordering her to steal jewels for you from the Squire. To add to that, you were witnessed handing over goods stolen from people living in the area to a renowned thief from London. “

Jeb sighed and leaned back in his seat. He allowed the silence to settle, and Myers to realise he had no argument he could put forward that would his innocence.

“I am the Lord’s son, that is correct, but I have some very powerful friends in high places.”

Barnaby stepped forward officiously and began to read the man his list of crimes in official terms as though he was the judge and jury.

“I have been told your name is Roland Myers, is that correct?” He lifted a hand when Myers opened his mouth to speak. “I would warn you now that any further lies from this moment forth will be considered an obstruction of justice. That charge will be added to the list of charges against you, so I suggest you speak the truth and nothing but the truth from this moment forth.”

“My name is Roland Myers,” the man declared quietly.

“What is your address?”

“21 Mayfair Terrace, Walthamstow.”

Jeb knew this was the house the man called Mr Cavannah had gone into. “What’s your cohort’s name?”

“If I rat on him I will end up like that woman who lived here.”

“Your victim, you mean?” Jeb shook his head in disgust.

“I didn’t kill her. He did, and that girl.” Myers began to sweat.

Jeb watched him swipe at the beads of moisture on his brow with a hand that shook almost uncontrollably but could feel no pity for him.

“What’s his name?”

“You are going to the local jail, so are not likely to go back to London for a long time yet. Co-operate with me and we will make sure your cohort will go to a different jail when we catch him.” Jeb looked straight into the man’s eyes. “He
will
be caught. He is likely to get hard labour, so will be a little too busy to bother with the likes of you.”

Myers sighed, but he was outnumbered. There was nothing he could do.

“His name is Rawdon Bamber. He is a cousin of Charles Bamber.”

The men from the Star Elite looked at each other. They knew exactly who the Bamber family were. They were not quite as ruthless as Terrence Sayers. They were more tinkers than marauding gangs, people who ran pick-pocketing gangs and carried out smaller shop raids, that kind of thing. They weren’t masterminds, or particularly intelligent enough to be truly cunning. They usually lied a lot when they were caught, and had a tendency to cover for each other. Because they were poorly educated, they had frequent clashes with the law, and tended to be arrested for crimes that included smashing up taverns while in the midst of a brawl, or stealing a Lord’s sheep. They weren’t known to be involved in jewel thefts or stealing from inside grand houses. That required cunning, planning, and stealth.

“They have several pick-pocketing gangs working in London,” Jeb frowned.

Myers shrugged, but Jeb knew from the look in his eye that he was right. Myers just wasn’t co-operating by telling them the entire truth.

“So, Rawdon murdered Mrs Banks so you had somewhere removed from the village that you could use as a temporary base while you got someone local to steal the jewels.” Jeb leaned back in his seat. “So, how did you meet Delilah Carney? She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who usually skulks around in your circles.”

Jeb was positively bursting with questions but forced himself to tackle one subject at a time. If he were to throw too many demands at the man before him, Myers would start to babble nonsense in a fit of panic just to get them to shut up and leave him alone, or he could stop talking altogether.

“Bert Merriweather, the owner of the pawn shop in Standmere, is an acquaintance of Rawdon. Before you ask, I don’t know how they met or what that connection is. I just got told to make his acquaintance, and collect some goods for Bamber.”

Jeb held his hand up to stop him talking. “Rawdon Bamber?”

“Yes. That’s who we are talking about isn’t it?” Myers scowled at Barnaby, who was scribbling away on a piece of parchment, an inkpot at his elbow. “What’s he doing?”

“Writing down what you are telling us. The judge who deals with your case will want to know how much you have co-operated. Everything you say will be investigated so it is yet another reason why you should tell us the truth.”

Myers accepted that and braced his elbows on the table while he waited for the next question.

At Barnaby’s nod, Jeb leaned forward. “So, you collected the parcel and took it to Bamber. Why were you sent here?”

“I was told to cut Merriweather out of the deal. I got Merriweather to give me a list of the people who usually fence stuff through his shop. Merriweather told me when each of them turned up.”

Jeb frowned. “Why would Merriweather give you details of the thieves names if it is going to cost him trade?”

Myers shrugged but had a cunning look in his eye.

“Merriweather is planning to close up shop, isn’t he?” Barnaby asked.

Myers looked at him. “London is a big place to get lost in.”

“So you intercepted each thief and got them to work directly for you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Myers saw it as one. “It is surprising who will actually turn to stealing when they are forced into it.”

Jeb shook his head in disgust. “This isn’t some game of cat and mouse. You are helping yourself to things other people have worked hard for; precious possessions and keepsakes that mean something to someone. I wouldn’t look so proud of yourself, if I were you.”

Myers wiped the smirk off his face when the atmosphere turned threatening.

“So, you made contact with them and got them to hand you the goods rather than take them to Merriweather.”

“How many?” Barnaby asked, peering down the table at them.

Myers scrunched his nose up. “I can’t count,” he scowled.

Jeb swore and ran a hand down his face. “Tell me their names.”

“Well, there was that Carney woman, that young gal who died too, Tabitha. Norman Scoggins; he lives over at Barrowby. Then there is Edith Culbert. She is a sweet old widow who has a knack with pick-pocketing like you wouldn’t believe. Then young Paul Turner. He thieves from his gentleman farmer employers, right from under their noses and they haven’t got a clue.”

“Did Mrs Banks steal for you?” Jeb asked.

“Eh? Who?”

Jeb sighed. “The old woman who lived here.”

“Nah.” Myers snorted.

Barnaby nodded. “Did Bamber kill Tabitha?”

Myers nodded. “He is the cold-blooded killer, not me.”

“What did she do?” Jeb knew Bamber had very little respect for human life but, as far as he knew, Tabitha had done nothing that warranted being targeted. It was something of a shock to realise she had been stealing for them too.

“Tabitha wanted to stop thieving for us. She nearly got caught at that tavern and told me she couldn’t do it anymore. Her father needed her to help him out on the farm, and she wanted to do that. Bamber doesn’t like people to walk away, though.”

“Bamber said no.” It wasn’t a question.

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer and refused when I told her she had to keep doing it. When Bamber turned up, he demanded to know who was bringing in what. He likes to keep his finger on things, if you understand me? When I mentioned to him that she wanted out he went to see her himself. I don’t know what happened between them but didn’t ask.”