“If Ronnie was alive, he’d want me to do this,” said Gwen. “We’ll make the exchange, Patience. Both of us.”
“Then it’s decided,” said Lady Matheson. “Thank you, Gwen. We’ll meet back—”
“Of course, there will be an extra fee,” said Gwen.
“What?”
“Well, you can hardly expect us to be putting our lives at risk without compensation,” said Gwen. “We run a marriage bureau. Making secret payments to blackmailers does not fall within the purview of our business or our prior arrangement with you. If you can manage five thousand pounds to a criminal, then an additional fifty pounds each for the delivery girl and her muscle—”
“Oh, I say!” said Iris, flexing her biceps. “I like that!”
“As I was saying, that shouldn’t stretch the black budget overmuch,” finished Gwen. “Don’t you agree?”
Lady Matheson began to laugh.
“Why, you conniving little—”
“Ma’am?” cautioned Mrs. Fisher.
“You’re in the connivance game, Patience,” said Gwen. “Don’t get upset if we want to play, too. May I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“What do you intend to do with the letters?”
“It depends on their contents,” said Lady Matheson. “Burning them would be the best course of action, don’t you think?”
“I do,” said Gwen, smiling at her. “I am relieved to hear you say that.”
“Well, this has been a most surprising day,” said Lady Matheson, getting up from the chair. “Not the least of which has been discovering this hitherto unknown mercenary aspect of my cousin. I must remember to make further use of that in the future.”
“Come to us for all your clandestine needs,” said Iris. “You know our rates.”
Lady Matheson walked towards the door, which the bodyguard opened before she even reached it.
“I’ll need those back,” said Mrs. Fisher, indicating the letters.
“Lady Matheson,” called Iris.
The woman stopped and turned.
“Do you have any letters that you know to be written by Princess Alice?” asked Iris. “We should have them for comparison.”
“We’ve already thought of that,” said Lady Matheson. “Fortunately, she kept up correspondence with her family here after marrying. We retrieved a set from the archives. We’ll bring them with us.”
“Until tomorrow, then,” said Iris.
“Goodbye,” said Mrs. Fisher.
* * *
Iris and Gwen waited until the footsteps receded down the stairwell and the front door opened and closed. Then Iris went out to the landing and peered out the window in time to see the bodyguard holding open the door of a black Bentley.
“They’re gone,” Iris reported as she came back into the office. “Now, tell me what that was all about.”
“I realised that I don’t trust my cousin,” said Gwen.
“Neither do I,” said Iris. “Not from the first. What changed?”
“You asked where our loyalties should lie,” said Gwen. “Well, I thought about that while we were all in here. What is it that we are doing at The Right Sort, Iris?”
“We run a marriage bureau,” said Iris.
“Exactly. We bring people together. We each came to this enterprise from a different direction but with the same goals—part altruism, part fun, part profit, part whatever. Part friendship, I would hope.”
“That, for me, is the largest part.”
“For me as well,” said Gwen. “But what we do here is in the service of love. It sounds corny, I know, but it’s the truth. Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose I do,” said Iris. “I’ve never put it so bluntly. And it has been pointed out that I am working towards that goal having never experienced it myself.”
“That was pointed out by your ex-fiancé under circumstances that were rather heated, as I recall,” said Gwen. “I would not accept that as an accurate description of the Iris Sparks that I know. I think that you are entirely capable of love, and that you did love him, at least for a time.”
“Then I destroyed that love in the service of King and country.” Iris sighed. “C’est la guerre, n’est-ce pas?”
“But the war is over,” said Gwen. “Now we are being asked to possibly thwart a relationship, one that could happily continue if the ignorance of the parties is maintained. Patience was lying about burning the letters. I could see it in her eyes. I don’t believe for a moment that she would hesitate to destroy the royal romance if she saw fit, whether it suited the Crown’s purposes or not.”
“And you object to that.”
“I do. Strenuously. And there’s another thing.”
“What?”
“These letters don’t belong to her,” said Gwen. “They didn’t belong to Gerald Talbot, they don’t belong to the blackmailer, and they don’t belong to the Crown. The only person with proper rights to them is Princess Alice. That is why I said the two of us should handle the exchange. Once we retrieve the letters, we should return them to her and no one else.”
“Oh my,” said Iris, looking at her partner in admiration. “You want to steal them from the thief and the Queen’s woman. Now, that sounds like fun!”
“Do you agree?”
“I do. I am now Love’s Champion!”
“Good. Because we need to plan this now. And there is one more thing. Before Patience got here, we were talking about possible leaks.”
“Yes?”
“How much did you tell your old boss when you went to him for information?”
“A fair amount,” said Iris. “I had to convince him of the importance of the task before he would relent.”
“You didn’t consider him as a risk?”
“Of course I did.”
“You didn’t mention it during that portion of our discussion. Why not?”
Iris looked at her partner, who was staring at her with that unearthly focus that always seemed to penetrate Iris’s innermost thoughts.
“Because I didn’t want to think that of him,” she said. “Because I want to trust him.”
“When you made your list of those you trust the other night, there were only two people on it,” said Gwen. “He wasn’t one of them.”
“I want him to be,” said Iris. “I need to know that the things I did during the war at his behest were all for the good. Because some of them were quite terrible.”
“And now?” asked Gwen.
“What are you asking?”
“You told me that you didn’t want to work for him anymore. Yet I sense a yearning within you for that life, as duplicitous and dangerous as it was.”
“I thought Dr. Milford was in charge of winnowing out my dark secrets.”
“This isn’t therapy, Iris. This is you and me. I’m not asking you to spill every sordid detail of your past, but if we are working together on something this risky, then I need to know that you won’t have any blind spots about anyone involved.”
“All right,” said Iris.
“So, is it possible that your boss is the one who got to Madame Bousquet?”
“Yes. In fact, it would be exactly the sort of thing he would do.”
“Which means he knew about her beforehand but lied to you about it.”
“Also possible. And he might already have reached out to Vivienne Ducognon by now. He has more resources than we do.”
“And more time. Well, that can’t be helped. I’ll make some calls to see if I can find her, but our priority is getting hold of those letters.”
“And then keeping them, which might be the more difficult task,” said Iris.
“Iris, why don’t you trust Patience? I’m going on instinct, as I always do, but you usually have some concrete reason.”
“She didn’t have the letter fingerprinted,” said Iris. “If they have old letters from Alice, then they would have fingerprints for comparison. Lady Matheson doesn’t want the whole truth, ju
st a truth that she can use, and that can’t be good.”
“How do we keep them away from her? She might have us followed.”
“I have an idea. Pass me the telephone, if you please.”
* * *
That evening, Gwen located some tissue paper and ribbons, then sat down in Little Ronnie’s playroom and wrapped the present for Tommy. Another normal thing that normal mothers do, she thought. Maybe I am becoming normal again.
Then she thought about the next day’s activities and rescinded that thought.
* * *
In the morning, she kissed Little Ronnie goodbye. He was in a little blue suit, with short pants. A blue-and-yellow-striped cap sat on his head. He could not have looked more darling, she thought, trying not to cry in front of him.
“You make sure you take your jacket and cap off before you play,” she instructed him.
“Yes, Mummy,” he said.
“And no roughhousing!”
“Yes, Mummy.”
She handed the wrapped gift to Albert, the chauffeur. Lady Carolyne strode in, dressed to kill, an ermine wrap around her shoulders.
“This is a children’s party, you know,” said Gwen.
“A party at a fine house deserves one’s best,” said Lady Carolyne. “We must set a good example for the children.”
“Of course,” said Gwen. “Give them my love. I’ll be at the office today.”
“On a Saturday?” asked Lady Carolyne. “That’s unusual.”
“Not everyone can meet us during the workweek,” said Gwen. “And sometimes we get more done when the block is less active. The noise levels are lower.”
“Very well,” said Lady Carolyne. “May you have a productive day.”
“Thank you.”
She watched them drive away, then pinned her hat on and left for the office.
* * *
It was eleven when she arrived. Mayfair was bustling with shoppers, searching for whatever was available with limited supplies on the one hand and limited coupons on the other.
The block on which their building was situated was comparatively quiet. The work crews who had been clearing the bombing debris on either side were off. Gwen realised that she had become oblivious to the noise since they had taken possession of their office on the fourth storey. She let herself in the front door, then climbed the steps to The Right Sort. She found Iris already there, leaning out their window with her hands gripping the sill.
“What on earth are you doing?” asked Gwen.
“Figuring something out,” said Iris, pulling herself back in. “No trouble getting away?”
“I impressed my mother-in-law with the lengths of my dedication to playing Cupid.”
“How are things going with her?”
“Peaceful. We’re both waiting for Lord Bainbridge to come home before we resolve anything with Little Ronnie.”
“Honestly, I don’t know how you do it,” said Iris. “You’re like a prisoner of war in that house.”
“A prisoner of war in a Kensington house with a full staff,” said Gwen. “Let’s not overstate the horrors of my life.”
“But to live full-time biting your tongue,” said Iris. “I think it would drive me mad.”
“I do it for my son,” said Gwen simply. “Every time I want to grab my mother-in-law by the throat and shake her until all of her jewelry goes flying in different directions, I think about Ronnie, count slowly to ten, and go about my business. And I have my job to escape to.”
“With its absence of stress.” Iris laughed. “Apart from the occasional murder investigation or rendezvous with blackmailers.”
“Well, a touch of variety provides the spice, doesn’t it?” said Gwen.
“I’m impressed that all it takes is a count of ten.”
“There have been times when it took twenty,” admitted Gwen. “Forty-seven, on one memorable occasion.”
“You’ll have to tell about that one someday. Now, let’s go over the plan again.”
* * *
At 1:25, Iris descended the stairs to the front door. The Bentley pulled up a minute after she took her post. The bodyguard got out and held the door for Lady Matheson and Mrs. Fisher, the latter once again carrying the courier bag. This time, it was bulging noticeably.
Iris opened the front door for the arrivals. The two women passed her wordlessly and began the climb. Iris started to follow them, then turned to face the bodyguard as he brought up the rear. He stopped to look at her.
“Are you going with us to the exchange?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Pity,” said Iris. “I could use some backup.”
“I thought you didn’t need any help in that regard,” he said as they followed the others.
“Everyone could use someone,” said Iris. “Speaking of which, are you single?”
“Looking for new business in the middle of all this?” he asked, laughing softly. “You’ve got some cheek, Miss Sparks.”
“Emphasis on the ‘Miss,’” said Iris. “Sometimes I ask for business. Sometimes I ask for pleasure. You’re good-looking, you’re single, and you’re dangerous, which means you meet all my prime requirements, except for one.”
“I’ll bite,” he said. “Which one?”
“I prefer men with names,” whispered Iris. “It gives me something to say when things get going.”
“And you’d like to get them going with me?”
“If you’re free after the felonious transaction, Nameless Man. I am anticipating that we’ll be losing our connection after today, so I’m not going to waste any more time. Interested? I only ask once.”
“I’ve never gone out with a truly dangerous woman,” he said, grinning. “Montgomery Stallings is the name. The girls call me Monty. Especially when things get going.”
“Call me when this is over,” said Iris. “Maybe you’ll get me to call you Monty, too.”
They reached the office. Lady Matheson had already taken Iris’s chair. Iris grabbed her pad and pencil from the desktop and curled up on her perch on the windowsill.
Stallings closed the door after them and stood in the hallway, his back to the office.
“Even with no one in the building but us, he does that,” commented Gwen.
“That’s his job,” said Lady Matheson. “Now, I will handle the call, but I’ll try and angle the receiver so that you can hear the other end of the conversation. Any advice?”
“Make sure that you give us enough time to reach the rendezvous point,” said Iris. “He thinks he’s calling the Palace. Travel time from Mayfair might be longer, depending. I don’t suppose you’d care to lend us the Bentley? And the driver, while you’re at it?”
“We need the Bentley to be safely inside the Palace grounds when the exchange is made,” said Lady Matheson. “It can be traced to us.”
“You’ll be somewhere in the Palace in full view of people who can later confirm you were there, I imagine,” said Gwen.
“Of course. Some ceremonial function. I’m not even sure what it is.”
“Her Majesty is meeting with a delegation from the Land Girls,” said Mrs. Fisher promptly. “The press will be there.”
“How tedious,” said Lady Matheson. “But perfect. Let’s give you the money. Mrs. Fisher?”
Mrs. Fisher opened the courier bag and began piling stacks of twenty-pound notes on Gwen’s desk.
“I think this time, we had better count it and give you a receipt,” said Gwen.
“I have already counted it,” said Mrs. Fisher huffily.
“Nevertheless,” said Gwen, riffling through each stack quickly.
“Think how awkward it would be if we were on the verge of securing the letters and we were short,” said Iris, joining her. “Right, that’s a hundred.”
“And that’s a hundred fifty,” said Gwen. “Two hundred fifty times twenty is five thousand, received by The Right Sort for services rendered.”
She scribbled it down on a piece of pap
er, signed it, then handed it to Mrs. Fisher, who folded the receipt and put it in the courier bag. She then took out five more twenty-pound notes and handed them to Gwen.
“In case you thought we had forgotten,” said Lady Matheson.
“Not at all,” said Iris, resuming her window seat. “Not with the fearsome musculature of Iris Sparks looming over you.”
“Yes, I feel absolutely threatened right now,” said Lady Matheson.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a plain white envelope. She handed it to Iris, who opened it. Inside were several sheets of light blue onionskin, a lighter shade of blue than the one purportedly sent by “C.”
“Princess Alice’s letters?” asked Iris as she gently opened the first one.
“Yes.”
“‘My dear Great-Grandmother,’” began Iris. Then she looked up at Lady Matheson. “These were to Queen Victoria.”
“Yes. Take good care of them.” She glanced at her watch. “Not long now. Let’s see if our man is punctual. I do detest tardiness in a blackmailer.”
The four of them stared at the telephone on Iris’s desk, sneaking glances at their watches. The telephone ultimately gave in to the pressure and rang. Lady Matheson snatched up the handset.
“Lily here,” she said, holding the earpiece outwards. “To whom am I speaking?”
“I want to talk to the princess,” said a man’s voice, tinny and soft. The other three women leaned forwards and strained to follow it.
“I speak for her,” said Lady Matheson.
“You have the money.”
“I have the money, but you will see none of it unless you tell me what we are getting for it.”
“Love letters,” he said. “From and to Princess Alice, and her husband ain’t the other correspondent. They get awful steamy in places. You’d think a high-bred bird like her wouldn’t know those words.”
“How did you get them?”
“From a chap named Talbot. Used to be a spy for your side. I ran some errands for him once upon a time.”
“Why did he give these letters to you?”
“Who said he gave ’em?” said the man, laughing. “I got ’em, and that’s all you need to know about that. Hung on to ’em for a laugh, but now they’re worth something. I get a yes from you right now, lady, or the deal’s off.”
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