by Rebecca King
Connor studied the desk, but didn’t waste time on the papers littering its surface. Instead, he made his way through the house, searching each room for signs of life as he went. Minutes later, he joined Barnaby in the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Connor sighed.
“Nothing here either,” Barnaby reported.
“I am right. The man was a fraudster.” Connor swore.
Barnaby nodded. “We need to search every nook and cranny of this house. I have an uncomfortable feeling about this.”
Isaac came to join them. “I will take the bedrooms.”
“I will search the outbuildings,” Barnaby offered.
“I will start down here.”
“Don’t leave any stone unturned. I hate to say it but this strikes me as too similar to recent events in Smothey,” Connor whispered.
They all remembered the events in Smothey, and the poor homeowner who had been murdered by Sayers’ men because they had needed his house.
The men began to search the property. Their first perusal revealed nothing untoward. When the downstairs floors had been searched the men stood in the upstairs hallway, and turned their attention to the small square hatch above their heads.
This was, by far, one of the worst of Connor’s jobs. He hated being confined at the best of times, but to go into someone’s loft, whether they were dead or alive, left him feeling cornered in a way that was deuced uncomfortable.
“You first,” he growled at Barnaby, who grinned back at him.
Neither of them wanted to do this, but they needed to search the loft. Minutes later, Connor hauled himself into the darkened space after his colleagues. He immediately knew that something was wrong. They weren’t alone but there was no danger up there. Not now.
Mr Tate could pose no threat to anybody as dead as he was.
“Strangled,” Connor muttered as they studied the dark bruising around the dead-man’s neck. He had been bundled up in an old carpet and stuffed beneath the lowest eves. If it hadn’t been for his protruding feet they might never have found him.
“He has been here at least a day,” Barnaby growled in disgust.
“Can we get out of here?” Isaac demanded.
“Let’s take the body downstairs with us,” Connor replied. He glanced around the empty roof space. “Is there any sign of a ligature?”
The men searched but came up empty handed.
“The killer could have used anything,” Barnaby offered.
“It is telling that they have chosen to strangle him rather than knife him or club him over the head,” Connor sighed. “It may be some kind of link to the other murders Sayers’ gang have been involved in.”
Barnaby nodded. “Given that most of Sayers’ victims have been strangled, we can only assume that this is the murderer’s signature.”
“So the person we met was not Mr Tate. Did we meet his killer?” Connor went cold at the thought that Tahlia had been that close to someone so ruthless. He was glad now he had been successful in persuading her to allow him to accompany her to the meeting.
“It doesn’t make sense that a killer would murder Mr Tate, go to the effort to hide the body in the loft, but then wait around and pretend to be the victim. I mean, surely someone in the area would have seen him?” Isaac reasoned.
“A housekeeper answered the door,” Connor sighed.
“Was there anything unusual about her?” Barnaby asked as he watched Isaac moved to the loft hatch, stick his head through it and suck in several deep breaths of clean air.
“Apart from being rude, surly, and downright incompetent you mean? Downstairs is covered in grime. If she is the housekeeper she hasn’t done any cleaning in quite some time,” Connor replied.
“It is safe to assume that the man you saw is a fraudster, and the cleaner was someone connected to him,” Barnaby growled.
“She could have been a look-out,” Isaac said.
Everyone agreed.
“I will create a sketch of the man we met. Everyone needs to know who to look out for,” Connor replied darkly.
“I think the original Mr Tate may have been murdered because he knew something that was a danger to Sayers,” Barnaby muttered. “Do you think it has something to do with the mudlark diamond?”
Connor sighed. “Henry’s left the information for Tahlia several weeks ago. Maybe Mr Tate was silenced because he was part of this Gem Society. Maybe he heard the same news as Henry, and was silenced. Who knows? Without a list of the members of the Gem Society, we have no way of knowing if someone is killing them all one by one.”
“We need to find out about this Valentin,” Barnaby warned. “I cannot help but feel that his picture being with the note Henry left with Tahlia is significant. I mean, why go to the time and trouble to draw that kind of detailed picture of someone, and leave it for a relative who doesn’t even live in the area?”
“It is significant to the contents of the note,” Isaac nodded.
“This Valentin might have something to do with the mudlark diamond,” Connor muttered.
“So let’s find Valentin,” Barnaby suggested. He gave Connor a pointed look. “You are not invited.”
Connor nodded. He didn’t mind one bit. “I need to go back to Rutland.”
He explained about Joseph. “I need to go and see him. He is my son.”
Together, Barnaby and Isaac nodded, and shook his hand in congratulations. They understood the man’s need to stick closer to home now, and were happy that he had so much waiting for him in his future.
“You need to stick close to Tahlia. I don’t want anyone breaking in there,” Barnaby warned.
“I have checked the windows and doors already. There are no signs of anyone fiddling with the locks as yet,” Connor reported.
Nobody said anything, but everyone understood that the gunman’s target earlier was most probably Connor, not Tahlia. If the attackers were so desperate to silence her they could have broken into Gillingham House last night and murdered her just as ruthlessly as poor Mr Tate.
“Let’s get you out of London,” Barnaby sighed. “First, you need to stay in the house for tonight. Stay out of sight. Keep an eye on Tahlia. We will put word out about Valentin, and circulate the pictures of him and Tate amongst the men so they know who they are looking for. I will speak with Henry’s doctor and arrange for a death certificate for Mr Tate. For now, I think we need to keep his death confidential. I hope that tomorrow morning will bring us the results of the valuation on the jewellery Tahlia received. For now, they will be kept in the War Office out of the way. Someone is going to check if they match any of the items reported stolen. We will keep Balgravia’s gems for now. They can be returned to the widow once we can be certain they were his.”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” Isaac sighed as he turned to leave. “Let’s get out of here. With the amount of work we have to do we are going to need all the rest we can get.”
Connor nodded. It would take a couple of days before a secure passage could be arranged for him and Tahlia out of London. Until then he had plenty of time with her in the house to discuss their future. As he stepped out into the night, Connor ran a weary hand down his face and actually felt a yearning to return to her. He wanted to be at home where it was dry, warm, and smelled much better.
“I wonder why they didn’t leave the scene of the murder as soon as the man was dead?”
“The man hasn’t been dead long. Maybe you arrived before they could leave.”
“Leave him on the bed. We can get the doctor to confirm the cause of death in the morning. He is going nowhere,” Barnaby ordered.
“I wonder whether Tate heard about the mudlark diamond and was silenced before he could tell anyone in authority who is in possession of it,” Isaac suggested.
“I don’t know if I am getting paranoid or not but I can actually smell Sayers in all of this. This has his hallmarks written all over it,” Connor mused. “Not only do we have a body that has been strangled, just like everyone
else Sayers has taken offense to, but we have a series of mysteries all of which surround gems and stolen jewels. This Valentin sounds just like the kind of ruse Sayers would come up with.”
“I bloody hope so,” Barnaby grunted. “I mean, if he is this Valentin fellow then we have a picture of him.”
Everybody paused and looked at each other.
“I wonder-” Isaac whispered.
Connor snorted. “Valentin sounds Russian. God, that is right up Sayers’ street. He would love being able to move about aristocracy posing as a Russian Count. He could be flamboyant right under everyone’s noses and nobody would know who he is. Everybody would point and stare at the foreign creature without realising they were looking at one of London’s notorious criminals. Not only that, but he was sizing their jewels up and deciding which he wanted to steal.”
“It’s a genius, and very courageous plan,” Barnaby murmured, impressed at the logic.
He considered the possibility for several moments but couldn’t find any holes in the theory. In fact, he rather felt that Sayers would do something like that. He would love being able to move about right under the ton’s noses and not be seen.
“It would explain how Sayers has managed to come into contact with so many wealthy and titled ladies and gentlemen, and identify the best of the jewels. How else would someone like him be in a position to blackmail Balgravia? I have no doubt it was Sayers trying to blackmail him. We just don’t know what gossip Sayers might have heard,” Isaac mused.
“Or made up,” Connor corrected. “If Sayers was moving about amongst the ton, he could start any rumour he wanted to about anybody.”
“Good Lord, do you think it is possible?” Barnaby growled.
“It is something I have no doubt he would do,” Connor replied confidently.
“Sayers would enjoy something that twisted,” Isaac snorted. “He likes to flaunt his schemes.”
“Count Anatoly Valentin needs to be investigated. We need to warn Head Office to get men onto this,” Barnaby said urgently.
“Before we go, let’s search this place for anything relating to the Gem Society,” Connor suggested.
He didn’t wait for everyone’s agreement. He entered the study and searched the shelving. Surprisingly, there were no references there to gemmology or gems at all. In fact there was nothing but fiction books on the shelving, and a few on housekeeping techniques.
Turning his attention to the desk, Connor took a seat and began to rummage. Minutes later, he dropped a huge roll of parchment of various shapes and sizes onto the desk. He searched the hiding space beside the fireplace he found, before he replaced the stone and returned to the desk to study the papers.
“Well, well, well, so the Gem Society does exist after all,” Barnaby whispered. He and Isaac had finished their own searches but, having come up empty handed, had helped Connor search the study.
“There is a list of the members, all of which are very well connected,” Barnaby growled. He studied the highly influential names and whistled through his teeth. “This makes the investigation extremely tricky indeed, and the information as useless as it is valuable. People like this won’t want to talk to us if their reputation is going to be put at risk.”
“Surely they will tell us what they want to know if their members are dying?” Isaac protested.
Together they peered at the list of twelve names, six of which had been murdered, including Jeremiah Tate and Henry Gillingham.
“If they don’t co-operate, being under suspicion by the War Office for the kind of crimes Sayers’ gets involved in with will destroy their reputations,” Connor retorted flatly.
He studied a piece of parchment detailing specific qualities of gems and tossed it back onto the table in disgust. It meant nothing to him but he had to take them with him so he could study them in more detail. They weren’t of use to Mr Tate now in any case. If there was a nugget of information; some kernel of fact contained therein that might help the Star Elite, the men would find it.
Right now, Connor wanted to get home. With renewed urgency he rolled up the parchment and hurried toward the window.
“Come on, let’s go,” he ordered, and disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Connor gently tucked a stray curl behind her ear and tugged the blankets up to cover her bare shoulders. His smile grew when she sighed and flopped over, and waited until she realised he was there.
Tahlia wasn’t sure what woke her, but she slowly became aware that she was no longer alone. Her eyes popped wide and she flung herself over in bed.
“You are back,” she gasped. Without thinking, she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.
Connor laughed and held her just as securely.
“Well, I have never had a welcome like that before,” he growled huskily.
“What happened? What did you find?”
“It doesn’t matter right now. I will tell you in the morning,” he whispered. “Get some more sleep. I just wanted to check you were alright.”
Boldly, Tahlia dropped a kiss onto his still smiling lips.
“Sleep,” he growled as he leaned forward until she had no option but to lie back down. Once there, he carefully tucked her beneath the covers and left the bed before he was tempted to stay with her.
“You didn’t bother to close the shutters,” he chastised. “It is cold in here.”
He stopped beside the fireplace to add more logs before he went in search of the source of the chill. All the while he was painfully aware of her staring at him. He daren’t look at her. The temptation to re-join her was so strong that if she said or did anything, he would not have the willpower to leave.
He was in the process of closing the shutter to the window overlooking the garden when a furtive movement outside captured his attention. He knew from the way the shadow darted from one tree to another as it approached the house that it wasn’t any of his colleagues. Not only was the house in lockdown but none of the Star Elite wouldn’t be that unprofessional.
Someone was lurking in the gardens.
“Connor?” Tahlia prompted when Connor remained frozen in place beside the window, staring out over the garden.
While he looked the epitome of masculinity with his white shirt stretched tightly over the taut muscles of his back, she was drawn by the tension in him. Something was wrong she just knew it. Oblivious to her semi-clad state, Tahlia sat up in bed. Shoving her hair out of her face she peered cautiously at him.
“Go back to sleep, darling. Stay in bed and stay warm. I won’t be long,” he murmured huskily. Carefully backing away from the window, he didn’t bother to close the shutters and turned his attention to Tahlia.
There was something in his voice that alerted Tahlia that she was right to suspect something was amiss. When Connor strode across the room with purposeful strides, and hardness on his face, she threw the covers back off the bed and went after him.
“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” she demanded with a frown.
The change in him from the warm, laughing man who had been sitting on her bed moments earlier to this hard, almost ruthless warrior was staggering. But this was still Connor; Joseph’s father. Right now, he was keeping secrets from her and she didn’t like it.
“Stay here,” he commanded huskily. “Please, Tahlia. Go back to bed and stay there.”
“Are you hurt?” She persisted. Her eyes slid over the length of him, searching for signs of injury but he positively radiated health.
When she still didn’t get the answers she wanted she turned her attention to the window, and began to walk toward it.
“No,” Connor protested. “Stay away from the window. Just go back to bed. I have to have a word with Isaac. I won’t be long.”
When she merely looked up at him, temptation was impossible to resist and he dragged her into his arms. This time he kissed her the way he wanted to kiss her – passionately. He held nothing back, and neither did she.
&nbs
p; Tahlia’s head tipped back beneath the force of his possession and revelled in his need for her. Freed from the burden of the past, she thrived beneath his tender caresses and returned his embrace with equal fervour. Her body turned molten beneath his searching hands, and began to ache for more. This time, it was she who moaned in protest when he lifted his head.
“What’s happened?” she persisted, a little hurt that he was still determined to leave.
Connor wasn’t sure whether he should be pleased or horrified that she could read him so easily. His sigh was heavy as he contemplated what to do.
“It is nothing to worry about at the moment, but I think I saw someone outside. Given the recent burglaries, I need to warn Isaac. It is his turn on watch tonight,” Connor growled. He rested his forehead against hers, silently asking for her understanding.
“Alright, go,” she whispered.
Connor nodded. “Stay away from the window, Tahlia. I don’t want them to know they have been seen.”
This time, she didn’t try to stop him from leaving. Nor did she attempt to follow him. He still wasn’t comfortable having to leave her in the bedroom unprotected, but he had to trust that she would follow instructions and stay in bed until he returned to her.
Hurrying down the stairs, he found Isaac closing the sitting room door behind him and quickly told him what he had seen.
“Let’s go and see what we can find then,” Isaac murmured.
“Is anyone else here?” Connor asked hopefully.
Isaac slowly shook his head. “Barnaby went out to speak to Ambrose. He took Balgravia’s jewels and the portrait with him. The others have all gone to trace this Valentin fellow. We should know a bit more about him in the morning.”
“Damn it,” Connor sighed.
With just two men, keeping a house of this size secure was going to be difficult. Connor was more disgusted by the fact that he couldn’t return to Tahlia as quickly as he had hoped. The danger they were in didn’t even register on him.