Thick As Thieves

by Joan Smith

  They all stared in confusion. Linda said, “Eve!"; Harelson said, “Miss Denver"; the “minister” dropped his prayer book and said to Harelson, “Who the hell is that woman?"

  I went pelting forward, confident that Richard and Ketchen would not be far behind. “You cannot marry Harelson, Linda,” I said. “He is Tom, the burglar—or his friend is.” I gave the “minister” a scathing look. “Did you get a fair price for Lady Dormere's emerald ring that you sold to Mr. Parker, sir?"

  The man turned white and said, “She's fly to our rig, Harelson."

  "Stubble it, Clive,” Harelson said under his breath, but in the quiet afternoon, I heard him. So it was Clive. Grindley was not present, so I acquitted him of involvement.

  Linda gave me a cross look. “How did you get here?” she asked. Then she turned back to Harelson. “You may be sure Richard is not far behind. Let us finish the ceremony at once."

  "Are you not listening?” I shouted at her. “That sapphire ring Harelson has been trying to get back from you was stolen by Tom the burglar. You must not marry him."

  Harelson and the “minister” exchanged a determined look. It was the latter who came pacing toward me. I noticed that Harelson had a crushing grip on Linda's arm. Before long, Clive had me in a similar hold. All trace of civility had left them. Linda was shrieking; I was kicking and shouting “Richard!” at the top of my lungs. Where was he?

  "Shut your face,” Clive said. I felt something hard prodding my back and assumed it was a pistol. I fell silent. While the men herded us toward the house, the female witness darted to look into the street. I was frightened, but real terror was held at bay by the knowledge that rescue was at hand.

  The woman came pelting back. “There's two carriages out there,” she told Clive. “Nobody's in them but the grooms. Best not take these hussies into the house. We might have company."

  "I came alone,” I said. “One of the carriages is mine."

  "What about the other?” Harelson asked.

  "It will be Richard's,” Linda said, the ninnyhammer. She behaved in an absolutely incomprehensible manner. She did not appear to be frightened, yet she did not seem to consider it a game either. She looked confused and annoyed with us all.

  Harelson darted toward the front of the house and was soon back. “It's Dalton's rig,” he said to Clive. “We've got to get the ladies out of here. Marion, bring my carriage around to the rear of the house."

  Marion ran off to do as she was bid. We were now two against two, but unfortunately two strong men against two unarmed women.

  "We can't leave Dalton alone in the house,” Clive objected. “He'll find the stash.” Linda frowned dumbly.

  "I'll take care of Dalton. You get the ladies out of here,” Harelson said. As he was giving the orders, I figured he was the ringleader. Lord Harelson was the infamous burglar, and here I had thought him quite a swell.

  I had not noticed when Harelson drew out his pistol, but he suddenly had one in his hand. He slid it into the waist of his trousers before going into the house. It was now two unarmed women against one armed man. The possibility that Richard and Ketchen would come to our rescue was lessened considerably. If Harelson managed to sneak up on them ... He knew the layout of the house. I had a dreadful vision of Harelson shooting Richard in the back, and knew I must move speedily. I scanned my surroundings for a weapon. There was a stout branch on the ground behind Clive.

  Clive made no effort to restrain our arms, but he moved the gun back and forth between us. Linda was fussing with her leghorn bonnet. “This is a fine way for a minister of the church to act,” she said to Clive. “I shall report you to your bishop when I return home."

  Clive just grinned at her simplicity, then winked a conspiratorial wink at me. I opened my reticule, planning to “accidentally” drop it and pick up the branch. The difficulty was that I would have to drop the reticule two feet from me.

  "No tricks if you know what's good for you,” Clive said, and dashed the reticule from my hands.

  "You are very rude!” Linda said, stepping closer to him.

  I bent down to rescue my reticule. I heard Clive say, “You may see worse than this before the day's over, milady."

  I made a lunge and picked up the branch. Linda saw what I was up to. I fully expected her to give the show away, but I think she was beginning to understand our situation. She smiled flirtatiously at Clive. “What do you plan to do to me?” she asked, in a coquettish voice.

  I raised the branch and swung it at his head. He was thrown off balance, but not knocked unconscious. His head was obviously harder than wood.

  "Hit him again!” Linda squealed. I swung at his stomach the second time, and he doubled over in pain.

  Linda snatched his gun while I ripped off his cravat and bound his hands behind his back. This was accompanied by a string of proficient oaths and curses—from Clive, I mean.

  Soon other curses rent the air. It was Topby, pelting toward us, gaping in wonder. “Lordy, Lordy! What is afoot, Miss Denver? I saw Harelson peering over the gate, and thought I should investigate."

  "Harelson is in the house with Dalton and Ketchen. He has a gun. Secure this lout to a tree, and run for a constable as fast as you can."

  "You're never going in there!"

  Linda handed me the gun, smiling apologetically. She glanced at Clive. “He isn't a real minister, is he?” she said.

  "If he's a minister, I'm a nun. Let us go.” I snatched up my reticule, for I had brought a good deal of cash with me.

  Topby took out a clasp knife and cut down a clothesline. He walked toward Clive in a determined way. Linda and I went cautiously into the house.

  The last thing I expected to hear was laughter, but Richard's unmistakable laugh rang out. It came from abovestairs. There was no sign of Harelson. We crept into the kitchen and followed the sound of laughter to the foot of the stairs. Harelson was just coming down, his hands bound behind him, while Ketchen and Richard followed.

  "Eve! I told you to stay in the carriage,” Richard said.

  I looked at Linda, wondering what she would say to Harelson, and what he could possibly say to her. He looked thoroughly ashamed of himself. He hadn't the bottom to look at her, or to apologize. He just stared at his feet, while his face turned from white to scarlet.

  She pulled the sapphire ring off and put it in his pocket. “I won't be needing this,” she said. A tear glittered in her eyes. I never saw her looking lovelier than she looked that minute, with her pretty little face crumpled by sorrow.

  "That there is evidence, milady,” Ketchen said, and recovered the sapphire from Harelson's pocket.

  We all stood at the foot of the stairs. Sunlight came in at the windows, painting rectangles of light on the parquet floor. Dust motes floated languidly in the rays of sunlight. For a moment, there was not a sound.

  "The other man, Clive, let out the loot is in the house,” I said to Richard.

  "We found it. Ketchen will take it into custody.” He turned to Linda, who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. The frustration was easy to see on his face, but there was sympathy there, too. “I'm sorry, sis,” he said, and she fell, sobbing, on his chest.

  It seemed best to get her away from Harelson, so I suggested she and Richard and I go into the saloon for a glass of wine, while awaiting the constable. I left them alone for their explanations while I ran upstairs to get a look at Tom's loot, before it was taken away. I found it in the master bedroom, in a wooden trunk on the floor. All manner of jewelry: diamonds, pearls, rubies, set in necklaces and bracelets and rings. A king's ransom in gems. There was no cash. That they used as quickly as it came in. I later learned the plan was to take the jewelry to the continent, and sell it there.

  I found my silver and my Rembrandt in the clothespress. They were the only things other than cash and jewelry that Tom had taken.

  That night, after we were all home and the criminals were incarcerated, Richard told me why. “It was a ruse to get you to London,
so Tom could search Lady Grieve's house for your jewelry. He drove to London after Brockley's party, and was back by morning."

  "Odd he did not search my house in Brighton after all."

  "Not really. Last night, after having robbed your London house the night before, Mrs. Henderson saw Linda wearing the sapphire ring. He was afraid Linda would tell the whole, as she did. He knew that if it reached my ears, I would recognize it at once, and suspect he was Tom. He set up this runaway wedding, feeling I would be forced to hold my tongue when he was married to Linda."

  "It cannot be a real wedding! Clive is not a minister?"

  "He did take holy orders. Later he went to the bad."

  "I wager Harelson knew it was Clive with Grindley last night, when he assured me it was Robert."

  Richard nodded. “Clive was a school chum of Harelson's. Harelson was the brains of the gang. He mixed with society to ferret out vulnerable houses. He first did the stealing himself, then he got the idea that it would be safer to have a sterling alibi for some of the robberies. That is when he called in Clive. When they were short of blunt, Clive would risk pawning a few pieces in certain shops where no questions would be asked."

  "Like Parker's place."

  "Exactly. If I had seen Clive at Parker's that day, I might have figured this out sooner. He must have left just before I arrived. As soon as he got the money, he would hop back to Eastbourne. He did not mix in society at all. He and his wife pass for gentry. She was part and parcel of the outfit, but her husband did the gentlemanly thing and pretended she was innocent. She will not go to trial."

  "How is Linda taking it?"

  "As well as can be expected. I cannot be too hard on her. As he came from a good family, I did not check his bona fides as I should have. I feel sorry for his family. He was left a competence, but ran through it years ago. He has kept up appearances since then by thievery."

  "Don't be too hard on yourself, Richard. I never suspected him either."

  He turned to me and said, “You never did explain how it came you were at Eastbourne, Eve."

  "Surely I told you this morning? Hennie told me about the sapphire ring; I took the idea it might be a runaway match."

  "Linda had a note from Harelson asking her to meet him by the Steyne. But you did not follow Linda. You came over to my house some time after that.” He looked a question at me.

  "I have been wondering why you called Ketchen this morning, Richard. Had you seen Linda's ring, and wanted to verify that it was on his list of stolen items?"

  "No, she never showed me the ring. If I had been closer to her, she would have confided in me."

  "Don't blame yourself. She needed a firm hand."

  "I suspected no more than a runaway match. I thought Ketchen might have heard rumors if Harelson was in debt. I asked him to bring the list as an excuse, but impatience—and discretion—got the better of me, and I decided to keep it to myself. Er—how did you say you came to be in Eastbourne?"

  There was no getting out of it. “Ketchen told me Lady Grieve had gone home to Hampshire—in perfectly good health."

  "So you suspected I was on the trail of a runaway match and followed me,” he said, thinking he was pretty clever. “You were correct to think I would not have let you come with me."

  "But I came in handy after all, did I not?"

  "A lifesaver,” he said warmly.

  To divert him, I said, “I noticed Lady Dormere's emerald ring was not on the list of stolen items, Richard."

  "It was on an earlier one. Bow Street removes items as they are recovered. They update the list on a weekly basis."

  I nodded, as though it were only a minor detail.

  With business out of the way, Richard lifted my fingers to his lips and said, “How shall I ever repay you?"

  "By trusting me the next time,” I replied with a moue.

  "I feared you would think us a family of yahoos. I wanted to hide Linda's shame from you."

  "She was a victim. One can only feel sorry for her."

  "Your friendship will mean a good deal to her now, Eve. You are the only lady she can confide this secret in."

  My breast swelled with pleasure. In future, I would be Lady Filmore's bosom bow, one of the charmed golden circle. “Please tell her I am always here, if she wants to talk to me."

  "We mean to make very sure of that,” he said softly. His eyes glowed as he drew me into his arms for a ruthless kiss. From the edge of the universe, I heard the door knocker sound. It might have been a million miles away. I ignored it and gave myself up to the luxury of loving and being loved. I did what I had wanted to do forever; I ran my fingers through his crisp black hair, tracing the contours of his well-shaped head, claiming it for my own while our lips clung.

  Richard took similar freedoms with my anatomy. His hands moved possessively over my back. One inched forward, brushing my cheek, and inflaming me until I feared I would swoon. I had to turn my head aside, for I felt I was suffocating from love.

  "We feel the best way of insuring your company is by making you one of the family,” he murmured against my cheek. “Darling, will you marry me?"

  "I shall give it serious consideration, Richard,” I said. A lady must not capitulate too swiftly.

  "Your jewelry is resting in my vault. You were too naive to ask for a receipt. If you ever want to see it again..."

  "That is coercion!"

  "All's fair in love and war,” he said, kissing me again.

  More interruptions came from the edge of the universe. There was a discreet noise at the door, followed by the door opening. Hennie peeked in, just as we flew guiltily apart. She was followed by a blushing Lord Brockley.

  She came mincing forward, holding out her splayed fingers, on one of which rested a diamond of immense size. “You'll never guess what, Eve!” she gurgled.

  "Me, too! Only Richard has not given me a ring yet."

  We all congratulated one another and laughed and talked quite nonsensically for an hour. “A willing foe and sea room” was not the evening's toast, but Brockley did not completely leave off his naval talk.

  "I hoisted my colors, fully expecting a volley of cannon, but she let me aboard.” He smiled. “I mean to take my lady to London to meet the queen."

  "What nonsense,” she simpered, “doddering into vogue at our age."

  It was after eleven when our fiancés left. Hennie and I sat on the sofa, smiling like a pair of imbeciles.

  "Imagine, me being Lady Brockley. I should be ashamed of myself,” Hennie said, smiling besottedly at her ring. She did not mention what David would think.

  "Nonsense! You should be shouting from the housetops."

  "That's just what I feel like doing. Odd Richard did not give you a ring, Eve."

  "He will. He mentioned a family heirloom.” I was feeling generous. “It will not be so large as yours, of course."

  "Ah well, he is not a peer. Folks won't expect so much from Mr. Dalton as they would from Lord Brockley."

  "You must learn to curb your gloating, Hennie. It ill becomes a countess."

  "Me, a countess! I can hardly believe it."

  A countess, married to a short, squat little man with a balding head, who lives in a house that resembles a bordello. You must forgive me if I felt I was making the better match. I would not change Richard for a prince. Mind you, that family heirloom might be exchanged for a new, larger diamond ring, if Hennie continues in this uppity way.

  * * *

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