The Baffling Burglaries of Bath

by Leighann Dobbs

  Which meant only one thing: It had to have been left there by the thief!

  A man’s voice echoed along the narrow corridor leading to the dressing room, distorted by the walls. “No need to panic. I have everything well in hand.”

  Mr. Salmon entered the modest chamber with his jacket buttoned to his throat and his shoulders thrown back. He passed a hand over his clean-shaven chin as he surveyed the interior. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Katherine.

  “You are contaminating my crime scene!”

  I am a better detective than you, and you know it. However, Katherine couldn’t admit as much aloud. Glaring, she skirted the room to make way for him.

  “There’s nothing to see here,” he said loudly. “Carry on.”

  He rummaged through the nearest stack of clothing, topped with jewels.

  “I beg your pardon,” a woman gasped in indignation. “Those are my things. I haven’t been robbed!”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Katherine pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s Mrs. Oliver’s dress, the bottle green. Her pearl necklace is missing.” She suspected that, without her telling him, Mr. Salmon would have continued to create chaos in the dressing room as he examined everyone’s clothing.

  He approached the green dress instead. As he grabbed it by the sleeve and shook it out, Katherine cringed. If there had been any delicate pieces of evidence lodged in the fabric, they were now destroyed. A fact that the bumbling fool assured when he thoughtlessly trampled the floor in front of the shelf as he leaned closer to inspect it.

  “Mister Salmon,” Mrs. Oliver exclaimed. “I will thank you not to step on my shoes! It is bad enough that I have lost my prized necklace, but I cannot fathom the cost of replacing my shoes as well!”

  In the doorway, Lady Dalhousie sniffed. “Do you mean to say that you didn’t take out an insurance policy for your necklace? I have all of my jewels insured by Featherstone’s Goods Assurance. I would not be in dire financial straits were this blackguard to turn his eye toward me.”

  Katherine gritted her teeth and fought not to call them both dolts. It wouldn’t help the matter, even if it might give her a moment’s satisfaction and soothe the sting of Mr. Salmon systematically managing to destroy all possible evidence in the room. Thank Zeus Katherine had managed to arrive first. If she hadn’t, he would certainly have destroyed the sliver of silver as he ineptly stomped around and heavy-handedly examined the items left untouched by the thief.

  Mrs. Oliver quipped, “Even if you were reimbursed, it couldn’t possibly compare with a necklace once owned by an empress. It’s a wonder the thief didn’t take your jewels, Lady Dalhousie.” Her voice dripped with scorn.

  “Yes, well… it must be because I was wearing them at the time! A lucky thing. I do feel for the poor thief, though, having to settle for something as dull as a pearl necklace. Perhaps everyone is wrong about his taste in jewelry.”

  Before she snapped at these old gossips, Katherine stood and meandered closer to Mr. Salmon, still in the process of spoiling any hope of finding clues inside the room. She paused by his elbow, but he was such a dullard that he didn’t notice her presence a mere foot away. She dodged as he carelessly flung his hand through the air, narrowly missing her.

  She cleared her throat. “Mr. Salmon.”

  He frowned as he turned. “Lady Katherine, please wait by the door. This is a matter for professionals.”

  Katherine seethed with indignation. She leaned closer, fisting her hands to keep from doing something she might regret, such as boxing his ears. In a low, lethal voice, she spat, “I am a professional, as well you know. We’ve crossed paths in the Royal Society for Investigative Techniques before.”

  The wrinkle in his forehead deepened. “I was merely trying to preserve your reputation. Since your pastime isn’t widely known, I thought I’d do you the courtesy.”

  Pastime! You sarding halfwit. Katherine was more a professional detective than he was! Even if the world at large didn’t recognize her as such. She had her father’s support, and his reputation was sterling.

  “Why don’t you do us all the courtesy of investigating this thief? Check for footprints, or—”

  “Footprints!” Mr. Salmon scoffed. “We’re indoors, my lady. What footprints might there be to be had?”

  She would have at least attempted to search before dismissing such a thing.

  “They might have left something behind—”

  Once again, he cut her off. “So I am attempting to discern, but I’ve found nothing thus far.”

  “Perhaps that’s because you’re using your fingers instead of your eyes!”

  Katherine regretted snapping at him almost immediately as he drew himself up. He still didn’t match her for height, but she could tell from his demeanor that he was seconds away from shutting her out of the investigation altogether. Given how insistent Lord Bath had been that Mr. Salmon handle the matter, the only way Katherine was going to have access to any official clues that were found would be if she remained on Mr. Salmon’s good side.

  Quickly, she added, “Perhaps it might be wise to interview those gathered here in case one of them might have seen the thief.”

  Katherine had — at least, so she assumed — but she kept that thought to herself. Until it was corroborated by someone else, she couldn’t be certain.

  “You need keep us from our clothes no longer,” a woman said, indignant. Katherine turned to see that Mrs. Fairchild had wedged her way to the front of the group by the door. She clutched a towel to her chest, but it must not have staved off the relative chill of the air, for she had gooseflesh on her bare arms. “I know precisely who the thief is.”

  If you tell him I did it just because you think I might interfere with your matchmaking… Katherine pressed her lips together and attempted to warn her rival with her eyes.

  Mr. Salmon turned toward the matchmaker. “Oh? And who might that be?”

  Lifting her chin and cultivating an air of superiority, Mrs. Fairchild announced, “I saw her skulking about the front of the bathhouse, the ne’er-do-well. Here she is now, come back to admire the scene of her crime!”

  “Who?” several asked.

  Mrs. Fairchild lifted an accusing finger and pointed to the corridor leading toward the antechamber. Everyone’s gaze turned in that direction.

  There was no mistaking whom Fairchild was accusing. Only one person stood in the corridor. Pru.

  Chapter Seven

  Pru looked as though she wanted to spontaneously combust. Her cheeks lost their color, nearly matching the gray of her dress. She flapped her mouth, attempting to speak, but no words came out.

  “Miss Burwick cannae be the thief.”

  Katherine should, perhaps, have been the person to state that herself, rather than the looming shadow behind Pru, who turned out to be Lord Annandale when he squeezed out of the corridor, planting himself firmly between Pru and her accuser. Never having spoken with him before, Katherine hadn’t realized how thick his Scottish burr was.

  His eyebrows low over his eyes and his frown disappearing into his neatly groomed beard, he loomed over the much smaller Mrs. Fairchild. Not that she appeared the least bit intimidated. Hands on her hips, she glared back at him and answered, “Wishful thinking will not make it so, sir.”

  “My lord,” he corrected her, accentuating the words. “Mayhap ye didn’t see me out by the carriages, shawin’ her the horses. Miss Burwick did nae leave my side.”

  Pru’s eyes widened as she closed her mouth. His back to her, he couldn’t possibly see the look of gratitude and adoration she gave him, but Katherine did. Was Pru as opposed to this match as she pretended?

  If Katherine continued to encourage unladylike behavior and other devious methods of assuring that his attention wandered to someone else, she might be dashing Pru’s hopes of future happiness rather than building them. Simply because Katherine had no inclination to marry didn’t mean that other women felt the same, even those in her profession. Her
sisters were proof enough of that, each happily settled and content with the paths they had chosen. With the way Pru looked at Annandale just then, whether she did so consciously or not, Katherine suspected she might be more amenable to the thought of marrying the marquess than she let on, even if she did not yet realize it herself.

  Mrs. Fairchild didn’t seem the least bit pleased to hear of Pru’s alibi in the thefts, even though she must only have been attempting to make trouble for Katherine by suggesting it. She must have known Pru couldn’t be the thief. They had been at Lord Northbrook’s party until recently! Katherine’s head throbbed.

  In an obvious ploy to distract those gathered from her blunder, the matchmaker clutched the towel to her chest and looked scandalized. “My lord, what are you doing in the women’s dressing room? We aren’t clothed!”

  “Ye were in the bluidy pool dressed as ye are.”

  Lord Annandale’s presence — and his profanity — stirred the gaggle of gossips into a frenzy. The old women followed Mrs. Fairchild’s lead, squawking in indignation over a man seeing them in such a state and the indecency of being forced to stand and become spectacles there rather than don their clothing once more. Mr. Salmon bowed to the pressure exerted by the ladies and relinquished the room to them, allowing them to dress. Meanwhile, Lord Annandale escaped down the corridor, where he wouldn’t be harassed.

  Katherine struggled to make sense of the resulting cacophony. Scooping up her shoes and stockings, she followed on Mr. Salmon’s heels as he vacated the room. “Wait!”

  He pretended not to hear. Fortunately, she had long legs and caught up to his brisk pace as he reached the antechamber.

  “Mr. Salmon!” She dashed in front of the would-be investigator and barred his exit.

  He peered down his nose at her, quite the feat when he happened to be the shorter of them. “Why are you harassing me now, Lady Katherine?”

  Because you’re investigating poorly! She pinned a smile on her face. “Mr. Salmon, don’t you think it would be prudent to question those gathered at the pool today? Stop them from leaving before it will be impossible to tell who was here?”

  She would do it herself if she could. However, her role in Bath was that of matchmaker, not investigator. The Marquess of Bath had declined Lyle’s assistance in the investigation — and unfortunately, she hadn’t seen him or his grandmother since the sermon. Who hadn’t she seen in the baths at the time of the theft? Sir Hugh must be about somewhere, though admittedly she hadn’t seen him. And where were Scott Julien’s grandparents? They’d never entered the bath, as she’d expected them to.

  Chafing, she ground her teeth at the inconvenience of having to work alongside someone as inept as Mr. Salmon. She prayed he would see the sense in questioning those present.

  Unfortunately, he looked dubious. “Lady Katherine, I know you are new at this—”

  No, I’m not! I’ve been at every Society meeting you have since I could walk!

  “But I have been hired by the Marquess of Bath, whose primary concern is that we don’t frighten the guests away from his city. If we insist on questioning them, they might take it as license to leave.”

  Tightly, Katherine countered, “If they continue to be robbed, they definitely will leave.”

  Even that bit of logic didn’t seem to sway Mr. Salmon’s mind.

  She released an exasperated breath. “Surely you’ve seen the cloaked figure lurking about.”

  Mr. Salmon stared at her blankly. The groove in his forehead deepened. “A cloaked figure?”

  She frowned. “You have seen him, haven’t you?” If not, Salmon was a bigger bumbling fool than she’d expected! In a place like the King’s Bath, such an overdressed figure could not be missed. Katherine could only imagine where else the figure must have lurked in the past few months.

  Puffing out his chest, Mr. Salmon huffed, “Of course I have! He is my primary suspect. Always lingering in the shadows, wearing a dark suit of clothes.”

  When had Katherine mentioned a dark suit of clothes? She hadn’t even described the cloak. She frowned. The thought of Mr. Salmon having noticed this figure before her rankled, never mind that she had only arrived in town yesterday!

  Unless… Yes, it seemed much more likely that he hadn’t encountered the cloaked figure at all. He was fabricating details that didn’t exist to make him look more competent.

  Nonetheless, on the off chance that he spotted the culprit in the future, Katherine informed him, “No, the figure to which I’m referring wore a dark cloak coupled with a broad-brimmed hat.”

  He nodded vigorously, the loose skin by his chin wobbling with his enthusiasm. “Yes, that’s the one. He… wears something different each time.”

  You sarding liar. She bit her tongue, hoping to use his willingness to agree with her to her advantage. “We’re in agreement, then. Since this figure has proven elusive thus far, we must ask the bath patrons what they’ve seen.”

  Mr. Salmon hesitated.

  Gritting her teeth, Katherine added, “Unless, of course, you aren’t trying to catch the thief after all.”

  The inept investigator drew himself up. “How dare you accuse me of such! Of course I’m trying to apprehend the thief. The good Marquess of Bath has hired me to do that very thing.”

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed. She wondered about the terms of Salmon’s employ. Would he be paid only when he caught the thief, or was the Marquess paying him to investigate? If the latter, perhaps it would be in Salmon’s best financial interest to drag the investigation out as long as possible.

  With a wave of her hand and a winsome smile, Katherine indicated the two doors. “Then perhaps we ought to station someone to alert the patrons to remain for questioning.”

  Mr. Salmon hemmed and hawed but ultimately capitulated. With a weary sigh, he dragged his feet as he crossed toward the nearest divan and sat. “Let’s give them a few minutes to dress. We can interrogate them here, when they’ve set themselves to rights.”

  Katherine smiled and settled next to him to wait.

  Mr. Salmon proved every bit the fool that Katherine thought him. Tenfold, in fact, with the sort of questions he asked. Had they seen Mrs. Oliver wear the pearls today? Perhaps she was mistaken about their theft. Had any of their belongings been disturbed? Did they know anyone with ill will toward Mrs. Oliver? The last question might have had merit had the theft been an isolated incident, but at this point Katherine believed the victims chosen on the basis of opportunity more so than enmity.

  Since Mr. Salmon seemed more likely to ask the witnesses for old family recipes than for anything useful, Katherine took it upon herself to butt in. However, she soon found herself baffled in that no one seemed to have noticed the cloaked figure. Mrs. Fairchild went so far as to say that it was Katherine’s imagination, though with a gleam in her eye that told Katherine she was lying. Mrs. Fairchild, if no one else, had also noticed the cloaked figure. For all her rancor, she was an astute woman. Would she withhold vital information in order to spite Katherine? It seemed so.

  Unfortunately, when quizzed as to their whereabouts at the time of the robbery, all persons at the King’s Bath at the time claimed to have been in the pool. Bathing, it seemed, now numbered among the social events of the ton, and they had been far too preoccupied with gossip and grasping to make social connections to notice who had entered or exited the women’s dressing room.

  Bess, the attendant, was little better than wreckage. She had only stepped away for a moment, to find someone to better assist Mr. Julien, who appeared to be having difficulty moving in the bath. When she’d returned, nothing had seemed amiss, but the necklace must already have been stolen.

  Katherine wanted to scream. Her frustrations over the entire event centered in a throbbing knot of pain near her temple. As Mr. Salmon dismissed the servant, Katherine massaged her skin.

  He turned to her, an air of superiority curling around his shoulders like a mantle. “There. You see, Lady Katherine? There was nothing to be found
. We were wasting everyone’s time.”

  She balled her fists in her lap to keep from strangling him.

  “How did you know that we would discover nothing?” Her tone was biting, but she didn’t have the patience for niceties. “Were you nearby?”

  “Not terribly close,” he hedged, shifting on the divan and looking toward the ornate ceiling. “I was next door, in the Pump Room. With the Marquess of Bath, I’ll have you know!” He preened, his confidence returned as he informed her of that fact. “The moment he heard the scream, Lord Bath was most distraught. He dispatched me, his trusted investigator in this matter, straight away.”

  It was clear to Katherine that Lord Bath didn’t know the first thing about investigations. He seemed like a trusting soul, and Katherine worried that he was being taken advantage of by Salmon.

  Nevertheless, he had been assigned the case far longer than she. If she had to suffer his presence anyway, she might as well learn all she could about the investigation thus far.

  “Who do you suspect the thief to be?”

  “Me?” Mr. Salmon huffed. “I cannot point a finger at anyone without first finding proof. That is the investigative way. I would have expected you to know that, Lady Katherine.”

  She fought the urge to smack the smug look off his face. As much as he might deserve it if she boxed his ears, she required information from him. In fact, if she was barred access to any future thefts, she wouldn’t be able to complete the task she’d set herself. Therefore, she had to remain on his good side… as much as was possible.

  “Do you think the culprit might be one of the gentlemen or women visiting Bath?”