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Waving Rhys to help himself to brandy, Charlotte took a deep breath and sat down. ‘Does Rob say how the meeting with Grainger and Holt went?’ she asked carefully.
Rhys shook his head. ‘The very fact that they are staying over to attend a clandestine meeting with an employee indicates that there is something worth discovering,’ he responded. ‘I assume we’ll receive a full account tomorrow when they get home.’
‘Then I suppose,’ Henry said with a sigh that carried the whole weight of the day in it, ‘we’d better call everyone in and I’ll tell you what we learned from the Lovelaces – before I lose the will to relive it a second time.’
‘The short version,’ Henry declared, once the door was safely shut and Peggy sent away with strict instructions not to return until rung for, ‘is that you were right, Ben, to suspect that Evelina Lovelace was involved in the jewellery thefts. Her husband is an insurance broker, and I think she used his knowledge to assess which items were valuable enough to be stolen and where they were kept, passing the information on to Margaret Finch.’
‘What about her husband?’ Ben asked.
‘We believe that he may well have aided his wife unwittingly,’ Henry answered, ‘though the fact that Edward Lovelace’s employers happen to be none other than Grainger and Holt was certainly a bolt from the blue.’ Ignoring the gasps of surprise, he went on to describe the details of their visit, ending with their theory that Edward Lovelace was living on borrowed time where money was concerned. Hence the reason his wife became involved in pilfering jewellery.
‘Do you think he had anything to do with the Pembroke Agency?’ Rhys quizzed.
Henry shook his head. ‘I think that was all his wife. It’s my belief that she - and possibly Mrs Lavinia Pettigrew – are a little more entangled in this business than co-conspirators in a series of jewellery thefts.’
‘What evidence do you have?’ Ben, as always, jumped to the important bit.
‘We were able to find at least a suggestion today after Charlotte herself went into the business of dipping.’
All eyes turned to Charlotte, who glared at her sibling as one about to burst her staylace.
‘I am no pickpocket, Henry Shackleford, and well you know it, she snapped, ‘I merely walked out with something that was, in the strictest sense, already in my hand.’
‘You stole a letter?’ Ben’s voice was both incredulous and sceptical.
‘I simply redistributed a piece of correspondence to where it might actually do some good,’ Charlotte retorted. ‘Really, Benedict, I’d have thought a policeman would appreciate the distinction.’
‘What did it tell you?’ Bernice’s intervention came at exactly the right moment.
‘A good deal, as it happens,’ Charlotte commented with a sniff.
‘The letter is addressed to Mrs Pettigrew and is suggesting they meet for afternoon tea next Tuesday at the Imperial Hotel to further discuss the tragic news of the unexpected demise of their friend in Bristol. No names were mentioned.’
‘Muriel Pemberton.’ Arabella’s voice was flat.
‘That was of course my thought exactly,’ Charlotte snapped back, waving her hand in the air for good measure.
‘Do you think they might be aware of the auction?’ Alexandra asked.
‘I can’t imagine so,’ Benedict answered. ‘It appears that the two ladies have mostly been involved for financial gain, but that said, we can’t rule out that they’ve been either recruited or are being blackmailed by White. Clearly Evelina Lovelace is familiar with the Society for the Advancement of Industrious Children.’
‘But so is her husband,’ Bernice argued.
‘I think, if we’re not careful, we may well be wasting our time entering a rabbit hole,’ Rhys declared, speaking for the first time. ‘If we can persuade Evelina Lovelace to talk, all well and good, but the afternoon tea is proposed for next Tuesday, and since you redistributed the letter, Charlotte, I doubt it will happen at all unless you send it on its way.’
‘Naturally, I didn’t intend to actually keep it,’ Charlotte retorted indignantly. ‘I shall have it put back into the post tomorrow morning – resealed of course.’
‘There is one more thing,’ Bernice declared. As all eyes turned towards her, she took a deep breath and continued, ‘As you know, I had tea with Billy's mother and Muriel Pemberton’s Torquay landlady, Mrs Peters. In truth, they didn’t have much light to shed on our mystery, aside from one thing. Mrs Peters said that just before Muriel left she received a letter with a return address in Exeter. The landlady didn’t see the exact address but reckoned it could have been a solicitors of some sort – at least that’s what I thought she meant. The word she used was Tongue-padder.’ She chuckled before adding, ‘Anyway, whatever it was, she went on to say that Muriel seemed quite agitated after she’d read it, and Mrs Peters reckoned it was that letter that prompted her to catch an earlier train.’
‘Could the letter have been from Grainger and Holt?’ Henry mused.
‘It’s very possible,’ Ben agreed. ‘It could also have something to do with the Bristol house being cleared out.’
‘Unfortunately, it’s all conjecture,’ Rhys interjected with a grimace. ‘Grainger and Holt are clearly our best lead at this point. Let’s hope that Beatrix and Rob have something worthwhile to tell us when they return tomorrow.’
* * *
As they walked, Beatrix had her hand tucked into the crook of Rob’s arm, more for the sake of appearance than because she needed assistance. Nevertheless, she realised that she’d actually stopped minding the pretence some hours before.
