[Berkeley Brigade 10] - Shadow of Murder (9 page)

His curiosity rising ever higher, he went cautiously out into the garden, and there he found the victims, bound and gagged, rolling around on the grass. They had not managed to free themselves, but had rolled out from behind the bushes in an effort to reach the library door. “Saints beshrew me, is it yourself, Mr. Black?” he cried.

Black, of course, could not reply, but Paddy knew by this time that something extraordinary had happened, and it was up to him to do something about it. What he did was run inside to tell Evans. Having admitted Paddy, however, Evans had retired for the night. The house was in darkness. His mind roaring in excitement, fear and disbelief, it occurred to Paddy that who he really should notify was Lord Luten.

But that would mean going to his bedchamber. And besides having no idea which of the many bedchambers might be Luten’s, it might mean interrupting Luten and his lady in the middle of some married folks’ doings. No, he couldn’t awaken Lord Luten, so he stumbled through the darkened house, down to the kitchen and roused up Toddy, the footman whose bedroom was off the kitchen to facilitate his job of stoking up the fire in readiness for Cook when he came down at 6:30.

“Paddy, you mad fool, what the hell are you doing here?” Toddy demanded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had been resting in bed, but fully clothed.

“It’s Black. Him and Jack are trussed up in the garden and all the finery gone from the liberry.”

Toddy froze for an instant, then tossed the covers aside and jumped up in alarm. “Gorblimey, I’d best get the fire stoked up. They’ll be wanting coffee.”

“I daresay, but first we’ve got to untie them.”

“You mean you left them there, you great booby? What ails you, Paddy?”

“I didn’t know what to do. The guard from the liberry’s gone and all.”

Luten’s footmen were not the sort to lose their heads in an emergency. “Get a butcher knife, we’ll have to set Black free. He’ll know what to do.”

Toddy and Paddy headed back to the garden armed with knives and scissors to free Black and the footman. Black was speechless with dismay and so tired from all the struggling that he had to sit and catch his breath on the garden bench before he could begin to issue orders. He was so ashamed he almost wished the thieves had murdered him while they were at it. How could he ever face Luten, and
her?
He wanted only to slink away and never be seen on Berkeley Square again. But if he did that, they’d think
he
was in on the robbery.

His sense of duty soon had him on his feet and issuing orders. His first thought was not to alarm Luten, but to go into the library, light the lamps, and see how things stood there. He knew the donations would be gone, but was mystified to see no sign of Harry, the guarding footman.

A banging in the hall outside the door alerted him to Harry’s whereabouts. He found him trussed up in a cupboard and untied him. Harry looked like death. He was still too dazed to answer questions, so Black sent him to the kitchen.

But where was the second set of guards who should have been here by now? Mystery piled on mystery. He no more relished the notion of invading the Lutens’ bedchamber than did Toddy. He reluctantly went to Evans’s room and awoke him. Under less harrowing circumstances he would have been amused to see Evans wore a nightcap to bed, and jealous as a green cow to see the finery of his bedchamber. But this was no time for trivialities.

Evans took one look at his bedraggled appearance, his face red from the gag and the removal of the plaster, his hair all askew, his clothes covered in mud, and his expression like death. “Good God, Black, what’s happened?” he demanded.

“The place has been robbed, Evans,” he said. “You must tell Lord Luten.”

“But how did it happen, with all the guards and precautions?”

“I don’t know,” Black admitted, still too stunned to have put a decent face on the calamity.

Evans was not a cruel man. He was jealous of Black, he resented his toplofty ways since elevation to the Berkeley Brigade, but for years they had been friends and confreres, butlers to Lady deCoventry and Lord Luten, sharing their little domestic secrets and helping each other when possible.

“Get yourself a brandy, Black,” he said in a kindly way. “You look like death. I’ll inform Luten.”

Black went downstairs and took Evans’s advice. As the stinging fire of brandy coursed through him, he felt some of his old strength returning. He had disgraced himself, but he must not give up. He must find the stolen goods and bring the thieves to justice — and do it before the auction. At least he had a good notion where to begin. Vance Corbett would pay for this!

In his distress, he didn’t think to clean himself up before returning to the library to meet Luten, who came rushing down in his dressing gown with a shock of black hair hanging over his forehead. Black was relieved he had let his wife sleep. What would she think of him? She had always placed such reliance on him to protect her interests.

“Black, my God what happened to you?” Luten demanded. “Are you all right? You’re not seriously hurt?”

That was Luten’s way, always sensitive, caring. “They got away with the whole lot, Lord Luten,” Black said. Luten had asked him to drop the Lord, but at this moment, it seemed presumptuous.

Luten scowled around at the empty library. “Yes, I can see that. How the devil did it happen with all our safeguards?”

“I’ve been trying to figure it out myself,” Black said. “I left the library door open myself when I went into the garden for a word with Jack, which I oughtn’t to have done. It let them in easy.”

“It wouldn’t take thirty seconds to break the glass and get in. Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

He led Black to a pair of chairs by the side of the room and Black told his story, the search of Corbett’s house, the items marked in the art book, the return to Berkeley Square, omitting nothing except having a glass of ale before returning, and wine after he arrived.

“They just leapt out from behind the bushes at me and Jack and knocked us out cold, bound us up leg and wing and covered our eyes. We couldn’t see a thing, or get free. Then Paddy, the night guard came on, Paddy from Mr. Pattle’s house, and found us. I’d sooner have lost both eyes than have this happen, Lord Luten.”

“None of that now, Black. It’s not your fault. They’ve outwitted us, that’s all. But we’ll recover the goods. You remember that spy case where the scoundrels got away with my mount and left the lot of us tied to trees in the wilderness. We solved that case and we had less to work on than now. We have some excellent clues to begin with. Corbett is obviously the place to start. If he hasn’t run off on us.”

Black was heartened by this view of things. “He can’t know we’re on to him. He’ll look more innocent if he carries on as usual. Who we must have a talk to is Harry, the fellow who was guarding the library, and the guards that were to come on here at three a.m.”

“Where is Harry?”

“He’d been mussed up. I couldn’t get any sense out of him. I sent him to the kitchen to get taken care of.”

“Let’s see if he’s coherent yet.”

Harry was run to ground in the kitchen, where he had recovered and was regaling the servants with his version of the night’s activities. Such stunning news as Paddy had for them had soon spread through the whole house.

Harry came forward tugging his forelock. He wasn’t too worried. He couldn’t be expected to handle any crook that could outwit Black. He told his story, well-rehearsed from telling belowstairs.

“I was standing guard outside the liberry like I was supposed to be. I heard some noise inside but figured it was Black moving things about. He had gone in earlier. But then I heard what sounded like talking, and I knew Black was in there alone, so I opened the door and took a step inside, wondering why Black was in the dark. I figured Jack — he was watching the garden doors — had heard something and notified Black. I wanted to give ‘em a hand, like. And that’s the last I remember. Something hit me a wallop on the head. I’ve a bump as big as a tater.” He rubbed the bump and looked to see if they were done with him.

When they just continued looking, he said, “When I come to, I was tied up in the cupboard. I couldn’t holler or move my arms, so I kicked the door and Black come and let me out. My head hurt something awful, so he sent me down here to get a headache powder from Toddy.”

“What about the others?” Luten asked. “They were to go on duty at three a.m. Did he get them as well?”

Harry tossed up his hands. “Far as I know, they never come.”

“Tell Evans to have the house searched for them,” Luten ordered. “They must be tied up somewhere as well. I hope no one’s seriously hurt. You’d best go have a lie down, or have breakfast if you’re hungry, Harry.”

It was half an hour before the others appeared. Dennis and Thomas, severely chastened by Evans, had been found in bed, fast asleep and informed of what had happened. “Well, Dennis, where have you and Thomas been through all this?” Luten demanded.

“Me and Thomas come at three o’clock like we were supposed to, your lordship. The liberry door was unlocked, there wasn’t nobody in there and no sign of Harry. We saw the valuables were gone and figured you’d had them moved for safekeeping and no one told us, so we went back to bed.”

“So you saw nothing of the thieves, heard nothing?”

“Not a whiff of them, your lordship. ‘Twas all over and done before ever we got here, and that’s the Lord’s truth. Ask Thomas.” Thomas nodded his agreement.

“Why didn’t you inform Evans?”

“We did! Well, not at first. Since there was nothing to guard, we went to bed. I couldn’t sleep and got to thinking it over, like. I roused up Thomas and we talked it over a while, thinking it was odd we hadn’t been told not to stand watch. That’s when we went to tell Evans, but he wasn’t there, where he always is. We figured if
he
’
d
gone to bed there couldn’t be anything amiss, so we went back to bed.”

“You should have informed Evans at once!” Luten said angrily.

Dennis gulped and said, “Yessir. I see that now. Hindsight —”

Luten growled in frustration. “What of the outdoor guards?”

“Well, Paddy was there.”

Slack came forward reluctantly. He had been having coffee at the kitchen table. “I was only five minutes late, your lordship. I just stopped down here to get coffee, for I wanted to be wide awake. Then when Harry came and told us what happened, I didn’t see no point to go upstairs.”

“So you saw nothing?”

“No, your lordship.”

“Very well,” Luten said with an angry sigh, and dismissed him. He turned to Black. “Who we need at this point is Pattle. He has a way with clues. He might find something here or in the garden. And of course we’ll nab Corbett if he shows his face. I’ll send a brace of footmen to watch his cottage, in case he makes a run for it. Stop him, whatever it takes, and haul him here. Take a pistol, but don’t shoot. We have to talk to him.”

Dennis and Thomas, eager to get back in his lordship’s good graces, were keen to accept the job. Black gave them the address and a pistol and they left.

“Let us go and have some coffee, Black,” Luten said. “Or would you rather go home and clean up?”

“I’ll go home and rouse up Mr. Pattle and come back as soon as I’ve made myself decent.” Then he grimaced and said, “Her ladyship will have to know, of course.”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “There’s no way we can keep it from her.”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Lord Luten.”

He looked close to tears. Luten felt sorry for him and said, “I know, Black. I know, but really it’s not your fault. They outwitted us, that’s all. But we’ll get them. Now you go and do what you have to do. We’ll let my wife sleep.” He drew a sigh and said, “It’s the last good night’s sleep she’ll have till we recover the donations.”

Unlike Black and Luten, Coffen was secretly delighted that the auction donations had been stolen. Not that he wished to shatter Corinne’s dream of being the queen of London society, or to deprive the orphans of whatever they had coming to them. No, what he relished was a nice juicy mystery to keep him busy. Black’s breakfast stuck in his throat so he limited himself to coffee and told Coffen the whole story while he gobbled down his gammon and eggs and potatoes.

“Damme, I missed all the fun. I wish I’d stayed there with you last night,” Coffen said. “You didn’t get a look at them at all?”

“I couldn’t even tell you if they were Englishmen. They never said a word. But I’ll tell you one thing, Mr. Pattle. They were professionals. They carried the thing off like clockwork. Aye, and I’ll tell you something else, they had information from someone inside the house. They knew extra guards were coming on at three, or they’d have struck later. They’d come and gone before the extra guards arrived.”

“That’ll want looking into. I daresay Miss Lipman told Corbett. Now there’s a point. Did she know?”

“She easily could have learned it from the footmen if she wasn’t told by Lady Luten. She spends a deal of time in that library and she’s a chatterer.”

“What I’m wondering, Black, is how they got into the garden without Jack seeing or hearing them. It’s hedged pretty well all around, barring that bit on one side with the little gate that leads to the street.”

“That’d be how they got in and out all right. One or two of them scrambled over the gate while Jack was at t’other end of the garden, nipped around and hid behind the bushes, knocked us out, moved the barriers we’d set up and hauled the goods right out the gate. But how did they spirit the goods away? It’d mean leaving a wagon on the street in front of the house. You’d think Evans would have noticed that.”

“We’ll ask him. We’d best get over there and look for clues,” Coffen said, picking up a piece of toast and rising from the table. Coffen loved a clue, something left behind by the perpetrator to betray his identity or give a hint as to how the foul deed had been done.

When asked, Evans assured them that no wagon had been parked anywhere near the house. Not before he retired at any rate.”