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“Waxpool may also be worried about the family name. Consider him a suspect,” Sir Broderick said. Ticking the names off on his fingers, he continued, “Hancock is in deep financial trouble, which makes him a good suspect but not a good candidate for blackmail. The market for his one big invention is drying up as new chemicals make it obsolete, and nothing he’s worked on since has found a viable application. In fact, his inventions have a nasty habit of blowing up and injuring the people they are supposed to help.”
Sir Broderick shifted in his chair before he continued. “Any unentailed land the family had here or at his country home was sold off long ago. No, blackmailing Hancock wouldn’t have gained Drake anything, so I doubt he tried very hard.”
“Hancock tried to sell an old book to me for ten times what it’s worth,” I told them.
“Did he seem desperate?” Sir Broderick asked.
“He seemed angry.”
“The Duke of Blackford, however, is still a mystery.” Sir Broderick stared at me as if daring me to refute his words.
“Not any longer.” I had to tell them. “Lady Margaret, Blackford’s sister, died nearly two years ago from drowning near their country estate. She’s buried in the churchyard under her own name, but the death was never reported to the authorities, so it doesn’t appear in the books on the peerage. A
“And presumably she told her husband,” Emma said.
“What I don’t understand is why Blackford, who would recognize Drake from when he was a footman for his family, didn’t give him away when he met Drake out in polite society spending time with Blackford’s fiancée. Drake pretended to be descended from French aristocracy, but Blackford knew his true lineage.” Blackford was the only one in the group whose actions made no sense to me. Perhaps that was why I found him so fascinating.
“Do we know if Blackford is paying blackmail to Drake?” Fogarty asked.
“We don’t know. Blackford did admit Emma and I are to be bait tomorrow night,” I answered.
“Do we have any idea what’s behind Blackford’s plan for the masked ball?” Sir Broderick asked.
“No.” I could feel tension mounting in the room. All signs were pointing toward Blackford, and, while he was up to something, I didn’t want to believe he was the one who’d hired thugs to attack Nicholas Drake in his home. Remembering the way he’d looked at me, I couldn’t believe he’d hire anyone to hurt me. And after meeting Sumner, there was no possibility I’d think Blackford would hire anyone so inept as to kill the wrong man.
I’d come to admire Blackford. I didn’t want him to be guilty. “Do we know who followed Conover to Hounslow on the train that night?”
Fogarty shook his head. “Two strangers got off the ten o’clock train. One went into the Red Lion and the other disappeared into the town. We haven’t been able to get a good description or find out when the second man returned to London.”
“That’s a dead end, then,” Sir Broderick said. “Jacob, you’re going to be one of the footmen for the ball tomorrow night. And you will be armed. Fogarty, we’re going to have to find a way to get you into that house as well.”
“I think Blackford deserves scrutiny,” Fogarty said.
“Well, I don’t.” I sounded mutinous rather than sensible.
“Based on what, Georgia? He invited you to a ball and bought you a pretty dress?” Jacob asked.
“Based on a feeling. He wants Drake in his hands for reasons he won’t share, but I don’t think he’d hire thugs to find Drake. He’s using us to do that job.” I looked around the room. “Our fancy dresses will make us easy to find in the crush of the ball.”
Part of Blackford’s plan came to me in a rush. “What better place to hide than in plain sight in a costume? My guess is Blackford has set up a meeting with Drake that will take place at the ball. Blackford has probably told him about our eye-catching gowns.”
“I hope you’re right, Georgia,” Sir Broderick said. “We’ll keep an open mind. But you must be ready to act if Drake’s attacker is Blackford.”
“I will be. And I’ve thought of an addition to our costumes. Sir Broderick, don’t you have a friend with a collection of ceremonial jeweled daggers?” I gave Emma a smile and she gri
Before we left the house, I sat down across from Sir Broderick. “I want you to know I’ve been looking for my parents’ murderer in the area where I saw him from the omnibus.”
His voice went soft. “I’m not surprised. Any luck?”
“No. But while I was searching this afternoon I ran into the Duke of Blackford. He’s going to see if he can learn anything about the cottage and its ownership.”
“We both tried that. And failed.”
“Do you mind if he tries?”
“No. But don’t be upset if he’s unsuccessful, and don’t overlook him as a suspect in Drake’s disappearance because he’s offered to help you on another matter.”
After all these years, I’d developed that much sense. I was about to object when Sir Broderick said, “I’ve made a small breakthrough in locating the killer.”
I instantly forgave him for doubting my ability to separate the duke’s assistance on one investigation from his role in another. “You found him.”
“Baby steps, Georgia. This man covers his tracks well.”
I was nearly jumping with anticipation. “What have you learned?”
“Do you know Weldon Parrish?”
“Bookshop owner, antiquarian collector, hates women who own shops.” I’d once tried to broker a deal with him over an old copy of the Psalms. I didn’t plan to do business with him again.
“He came here yesterday at my request. The sort of request Adam Fogarty and his friends can deliver.”
Sir Broderick seldom used muscle, preferring persuasion. “Why did you—?”
“Parrish was the one spreading the Gutenberg Bible rumor.”
“He has the copy my parents were killed for?” I’d kill him myself if he did.
“I don’t think so. I told him I didn’t care why, I just wanted the truth about the book. He was finally convinced to tell me he was acting for a South African collector who has decided to take his book off the market.”
“And you think this South African—?” I was halfway out of my chair.
“No. Sit down. The man most interested in buying the book was tall and blond with a faint accent. He gave his name as Mr. Jones. Parrish said it’s obviously fake, but his money is real. A fortune, apparently. His description of Mr. Jones matches yours of the killer.”
“Does he have an address for Mr. Jones? How does Mr. Parrish get in contact with him?”
“Parrish claims he doesn’t have any way to get in touch with him. The man seeks out Parrish. Parrish says he seems to know when he’s heard back from the seller.”
“I don’t believe Mr. Parrish.”
“Neither do I, but that’s what I learned.”
*
THE NEXT DAY, we closed the bookshop at noon so we could get cleaned up, put on our best corsets and shifts, and hide the jeweled daggers Jacob had brought us in our bags before we left for Lady Westover’s.
We were shown into the parlor where Madame Leclerc and her assistant waited. “Oh, good. Try on the dresses, ladies. I can’t wait to see you in them,” Lady Westover said. Her eyes glowed with excitement.
Emma went first. In her dress, with her mask and the jewels the duke had sent over that morning, I wouldn’t have recognized her. She was beyond regal. She was mesmerizing, icy, devastating, and she hadn’t even done her hair yet.