by Joan Smith
“Lady Gloria, please continue. You saw Mr. Meecham enter Mr. Fletcher’s room.”
“I got up when I heard Meecham’s door open. I just opened my door a crack and saw Meecham slip in. He used a key to open the door—very odd, is it not? Well, as he had a key, I thought perhaps Fletcher had sent him to fetch something or other, and said nothing. Meecham was only in there for a minute—less! He came flying out and went to his room. He didn’t seem to be carrying anything, but I did wonder if he had picked up Mr. Fletcher’s money purse.”
“Good God! You should have reported it!” Lady Gloria was pleased with the excitement she had caused. Her visits were not usually received with such enthusiasm. “I told Buck this morning. He said he would speak to you, but with all the commotion ...”
“Did Mr. Meecham leave his room again?”
“No, I kept a watch. He didn’t leave.”
“Was he sober? I mean did he stagger or anything?”
“Oh, sober as a judge. He was in his sock feet, and went slipping in ever so carefully. Certainly not disguised.”
“I see.” Esther was on thorns to be rid of Lady Gloria and follow up this new development. She rose and helped her guest from her chair, thanking her effusively and urging her to keep her eyes open for any other developments.
“Perhaps I should just mention one other little thing. It cannot be important, but—”
Esther pounced on it like a lion on a lamb. “What?”
“It’s about the attics, dear. Mr. Meecham was up there yesterday afternoon. I happened to spot him slipping out. I’m afraid I don’t know how long he was up there, or whether he hid anything upstairs. I only saw him come out, surreptitiously.” She nodded her head importantly on the last word.
“Out of the attics?”
“Yes. He was not inebriated, nor was he in his stocking feet on that occasion. I shouldn’t think you need worry, Esther. There would not be anything worth stealing in your attics.”
It was the possibility that Meecham was concealing stolen goods that disturbed Esther, and as soon as she got rid of Lady Gloria, she scooted up to the attics. He hadn’t been foxed last night at all. Why pretend he was? Her former trip with Mr. Fletcher made it impossible to figure out where Meecham had walked. The layer of dust on the floor was so marked with their footprints that Meecham’s couldn’t be distinguished. Why had he gone to her attics? It could only be to hide something, perhaps the items stolen from the Higginses? His visit occurred before the gold robbery.
Esther spent the next hour searching through trunks and in drawers of discarded lumber. There were racks of old abandoned clothes offering good concealment. It would be nearly impossible to find a bit of hidden jewelry. She made a thorough search and found nothing but was by no means convinced that the goods weren’t there.
When she returned to her room, an inn servant was unpacking her trunks. “I thought you would be finished long ago,” Esther scolded.
“I won’t be a minute, ma’am. Peters served us tea in the kitchen, and some funny French sweets he’s trying for your inn, only they didn’t turn out right. They were so chewy, I nearly yanked a tooth loose.”
“I hope he doesn’t plan to serve them to my customers.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Mr. Meecham—he was carrying down your tea tray—he tried one and said you wouldn’t approve. He’s ever so handsome, and jolly, too. Not toplofty like some gents.”
“I expect he’s left the kitchen by now?”
“Oh, yes. Peters took him down to show him the wine cellar, but he left ages ago.”
Esther’s face froze in annoyance. “I see.”
She went to the window and looked out at the stable yard while her servant finished putting her things away. So Meecham had toured the cellars as well as the attics, had he? Perhaps he had better luck finding a hiding place there. He’d have a hard time getting to it, for the only routes were through the kitchen and Buck’s office. Of course both these rooms were unoccupied in the middle of the night, when Captain Johnnie did his work. She’d warn Peters and Buck to lock their doors—not that a locked door was any impediment to Meecham!
She was of half a mind to enlist Fletcher’s help. Certainly he should be notified that Meecham had entered his room while he slept. The nagging thought kept recurring that Meecham and Fletcher might both be involved in the robberies, and she had a strong aversion to their laughing at her behind her back. The fleeting visit might have been a midnight rendezvous to compare notes—or to plan the gold robbery. The proper man to speak to was Officer Clifford, and when her servant left, she asked her to send Mr. Clifford up.
Within minutes the sharp, twinkling brown eyes of Clifford were staring a question at her. She emptied her budget of Lady Gloria’s news and her own. “What should we do?” she demanded.
“Nothing,” he said bluntly. “Both Meecham and Fletcher have been here a few days. There’s no way they could have known about the gold shipment. Those lads in London keep a close guard on when the wagon is to move out. It wasn’t decided till a few hours before. There was no late-night rendezvous. What you have got on your hands is a simple thief, Miss Lowden. Meecham wants watching, but it’s petty pilfering he has in his eye. Pretending to be foxed is an old con’s trick. Your local constable can handle that. We’re busy with bigger game. When Meecham saw Fletcher asleep, he left without risking a theft—or so I gather, as Fletcher hasn’t reported anything missing. You might keep an armed man up to watch your safe at night. That’s what your Meecham is after, I warrant.”
“How reassuring! And why does he tour my attics and cellars, if it’s the safe in my manager’s office he’s after?”
“That sort will take anything that’s not nailed down.”
“I thought you had a higher opinion of officers?”
“Some of ‘em go bad. Pick up the looting habit abroad. 'Tis a pity. He might have thought to find a valuable antique in the attics and slide a bottle of wine under his jacket while he was belowstairs. Speak to the constable. You’re in business, and must take a businessman’s chances and precautions, and the thieves must deal with constables.”
“Can’t you take Meecham into custody?”
“I can only ask Mr. Fletcher to check if anything is missing from his room. If not—” He hunched his shoulders.
“Let me know what he says.”
“That I will.” Clifford left and was soon bobbing back. “Not a thing was missing, but Fletcher was pretty upset that someone has a key to his room. He wants the lock changed.”
“No one has a key to his room! Meecham must have a passe-partout. Surely that is enough to incriminate him.”
“Not quite. It isn’t against the law to own one, only to use it for unlawful ends, and as he didn’t take anything, you have pretty slender evidence for starting a case against him.”
Esther was dissatisfied with Officer Clifford. Meecham didn’t strike her as a petty thief who would be satisfied with a couple of bottles of wine. She cudgeled her brains to involve Meecham in the affairs of Captain Johnnie and found it far from impossible.
Last night he pretended to be foxed, but was, in fact, up and about at two o’clock in the morning, perfectly sober. He’d have had time to get to the heath and intercept the gold shipment—but he needed a colleague.
Fletcher? According to Lady Gloria, neither gentleman left his room, but even without a ladder, they could have reached the ground. A rope or knotted sheets would do the trick. And they could have got back in the same way. She must search their rooms, but first she must learn when they would not be in them.
It was lunchtime, and that was a good opportunity to learn how they planned to spend the afternoon. She didn’t even have to ask Beau Fletcher. He came, smiling, up to her table, holding a letter.
“Great news, Miss Lowden.” In front of her aunt he reverted to the more formal address. “I have just had a letter from Cathy. She is coming to join me for a visit.”
“That is good news, Mr. Fletcher.
How soon may we expect to see her?”
“I am going to London to pick her up today. I have been begging her to join me forever, and now she is with cousins in London. I plan to kidnap her and carry her home to the Lowden Arms.”
“Won’t you join us for lunch?” Esther said, and without further ado he drew out a chair.
Lady Gloria stopped on route to her table. “Why do you not join Lady Gloria, Auntie?” Esther suggested.
“She wants to be alone with her beau,” Lady Gloria said waggishly.
It was exactly what Lady Brown feared, but she wanted a good cose with Lady Gloria and went along, leaving Esther and Fletcher alone. Beau immediately said, “You heard about last night? Meecham was in my room.”
“Yes, I heard. I am terribly sorry, but I assure you Meecham doesn’t have a key. You would hardly be safer if I changed the lock. Perhaps you should take Cathy to another inn,” she suggested reluctantly.
“She’ll have her woman with her, so she should be safe. I particularly want you and Cathy to meet. You know why I asked her here?”
Esther felt a warmth flush her throat and cheeks. Something in Beau’s look caused it. He spoke on, “If I buy the inn, it will be her new home. I want her to come and see if she would be happy here.”
“She would actually live at the inn?”
“Not exactly. I would turn a suite into an apartment for her. It is hardly worth buying a house, as she will be marrying soon and would rather have the cash for her dowry. Not that she is engaged, but she is at that age and is so pretty, she’ll have a dozen offers.”
“You are a very generous brother, Beau!”
“She’s like a daughter to me. I confess I am very fond of her.”
This didn’t sound like a murdering highwayman. Esther found herself revising her thoughts. It was Meecham who was her main suspect now.
When they were finished, Fletcher accompanied her into the lobby. Meecham and Joshua Ramsay stood together, talking. Joshua scowled when he saw Esther with Fletcher. Meecham smiled blandly, unfazed that the whole inn knew he had sneaked into Fletcher’s room the night before.
Esther burned with indignation at his impudence. How long must she go on harboring a thief? If she didn’t set a trap, he might squat here for weeks. Very well then, she would set him a trap and bait it well. She walked forward purposefully, but was too discreet to reveal her plot immediately. It must seem to slip out naturally.
“Mr. Meecham, you are late dining today.”
He bowed formally. “Miss Lowden, Fletcher.”
“Are we to have the honor of your custom today, Joshua?” she asked.
“We were just discussing where to eat.”
“You won’t do better than my table. The excitement seems to be dying down, thank goodness. I wonder if Clifford has left.” She allowed a worried frown to pucker her brow.
“I believe he’s with Buck,” Joshua said.
“Oh, good. I must speak to him. I am a little worried about the Wrothams. We had a note from Lord and Lady Wrotham, reserving a suite for the night. They are coming from London to attend their daughter’s wedding in Farnborough. I expect they’ll be carrying jewelry, and perhaps cash as well. I wish they were not arriving so late—ten o’clock. That will put them on the heath after dark, but Lord Wrotham probably has some cabinet business that detains him.”
Joshua scowled, Meecham looked wary, and Beau Fletcher listened with no particular interest.
“What do you expect Clifford to do?” Joshua asked.
“He could alert the guards on the heath. Not that they did much to help the men carrying gold last night,” she replied.
“Anyone who ventures onto Hounslow after dark deserves what he gets,” Meecham said rather angrily.
Fletcher gave him a blighting stare. “Spoken like a true Christian, Meecham.” Then he took his leave.
“You shouldn’t have mentioned the Wrothams’ visit in front of Fletcher,” Joshua scolded.
Esther didn’t look within a right angle of Meecham. “Why not? You cannot think Mr. Fletcher would harm them?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Joshua admitted. “Meecham has just told me Fletcher was out of his room last night when the gold wagon was held up.”
Esther turned a sapient eye on Meecham. “And how did you learn that, Mr. Meecham?” Could it possibly be true?
“I looked.”
“Why?”
“Paul is keeping an eye on Fletcher for me,” Joshua said.
“Again, might I know why? Why do you pick on him?”
“Because he’s here.”
Esther glanced innocently at Meecham. “So are all my guests, Joshua. Surely that is not sufficient reason to condemn the man.”
“I’m not condemning him. I’m just keeping an eye on him.”
She felt a strong urge to mention the wisdom of keeping an eye on Meecham as well but didn’t want to alert him that she had prepared a trap in inventing the Wrothams’ visit.
“I’ll let you two have your lunch now,” she said pleasantly, and went to Buck’s office to warn him he must corroborate the Wrothams’ imaginary visit.
There were several important matters to arrange regarding her trap, but examining Meecham’s room must be done first, while he was in the dining room. She had the master key and went along to his room quietly, to avoid detection by Lady Gloria or any other guests.
The key turned in the lock, but the door refused to budge. He had barricaded it somehow from the inside. How had he done it? Was there someone in there? Had he pushed a dresser in front of it and climbed out the window? Esther was stymied.
As she passed Lady Gloria’s door on the way to her own room, it occurred to her that she could reach Meecham’s room by the interconnecting door from Lady Gloria’s. These chambers used to be her mother’s bedroom and sitting room. The door between was kept locked unless a family hired the two rooms as a suite. Lady Gloria might sit below with Lady Brown for an hour yet, gossiping over the teacups. Without a moment’s hesitation she opened Lady Gloria’s door and whisked inside, thence on to Meecham’s room.
Mr. Meecham hadn’t bothered moving any furniture behind his door into the hall. He had just jammed a knife into the molding around the frame that stopped the door from opening inward very effectively, though it did considerable damage to the molding and some to the knife.
She made a quick survey of the room. The window was open, which suggested Meecham had made his exit that way, in which case there should be a rope left hanging outside ... but there was none. She stuck her head out the window and examined the side of the house for means of exit and reentry.
Her eyes fell on the quoins at the corner of the building. They protruded two inches. A very agile man could clamber up them and reach the edge of the windowsill. The precaution of the knife in the door frame told her there was something worth concealing in the room and she set about finding it. Every place she looked held another piece of incriminating evidence. From the pistol under his pillow to the black mask and domino folded into a neat roll on the top shelf of his clothespress, to the long rope under his bed, everything shouted the same message: Captain Johnnie!
With her heart pounding in her throat, Esther quietly left and locked the door, then slipped out by Lady Gloria’s room, locking it, too. Her fingers were trembling, and her knees felt wobbly. She went haring off to find Officer Clifford. Buck was in his office, paring his nails.
“Oh, hullo, Esther. I slipped over to the dower house. Pink. That dashed painter is doing you up in bright pink. I gave him a hand remixing till I got it toned down to a light rose blush.”
“Thank you, Buck,” she said distractedly.
“Is everything going all right?”
“Where’s Officer Clifford?”
“He rode off not fifteen minutes ago. Said he’d be back around dinnertime. Bit of a relief to get his common phiz off the premises, what?”
“No, I need him. Where did he go?”
“
He didn’t say. Can I help, Esther?”
“I’ve found Captain Johnnie. It’s Paul Meecham.”
"Eh?"
“In his room—a gun, the black mask and cape, a rope—everything.”
“Good God! I didn’t see any of that when I searched earlier. Mind you, the grease spill on the carpet distracted me.” Buck turned pale.
“He’s with Joshua in the dining room now,” Esther said.
“No, they went along to Heath Abbey. They decided not to eat here.”
“Send Clifford to me the instant he arrives. And make sure your office is locked when you leave, Buck, and tell Peters to lock the cellar door in the kitchen as well. Meecham has been inspecting the whole place for hiding places for his loot.”
“Eh?”
She repeated her morning’s adventures. Buck was as nervous as a lady, which made Esther realize he would be no help in springing her trap. She’d leave that to Mr. Clifford.
She went upstairs, her head reeling with schemes, suspicions, and worries. Foremost in her mind was Joshua’s troublesome report that Fletcher had not been in his room when Meecham entered. Where had he been? If his errand had been innocent, he would have told her. He had not seemed perturbed to hear of Meecham’s visit while he slept, but Clifford had spoken to him first, so he was prepared. She must discover his first reaction, when Clifford told him. Why didn’t Clifford come?
Chapter Nine
Esther saw from her window that Lady Brown and Lady Gloria Devere were taking a turn along the river walk and was relieved at their absence. Lady Brown would not approve of such unladylike doings as setting a trap for a highwayman and consorting with a Bow Street runner to do it. Yet something must be done to catch the Royal Scamp before he ruined her. Within an hour there was a tap at her door and Officer Clifford came in, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
“G’day, miss. Ye were looking for me?”
“Come in,” she said, and hastily closed the door. When they were seated, she turned an accusing eye on him. “Why did you not tell me Mr. Fletcher was out of his room when Meecham sneaked in last night?”