Thick As Thieves (20 page)

"I never could believe he was Tom," Ketchen had the gall to say, right to my face. I stared in dumb disbelief. " 'Twas yourself accused him. I only wondered if Townshend was wise to tell him so much of our business."

"Go and tell him what Topby said," I commanded stiffly.

"I am not your servant, miss!"

"Who do you think pays your salary? I am a taxpayer."

"Aye, you and every mort I try to help ends up throwing that in my face. What excuse can I give him for being here?"

"For God's sake, Ketchen,
go,
before he gets away."

"You'd best come with me, for to make some explanation."

I got out of the carriage and marched quickly down to the main street, just as Richard was giving his groom the office to leave. John Groom recognized me, and stopped. Richard looked out of the window to ask what was amiss, and spotted me. You would think he had seen a giraffe at least. He looked completely witless. "Eve, what are you doing here?"

I replied, "Are you looking for Harelson and Linda?"

He gave a shamefaced look and said, "Yes."

"My groom saw Harelson. We'll follow him."

I hopped into Richard's carriage and told Ketchen to tell Topby to lead the way. While we followed them, Richard said, "I fear the ninnyhammer has run off with Harelson. We had an argument last night. Linda told me a Cheltenham tale about his family cutting him off if he did not marry Agnes Carter. Agnes's engagement to some other fellow was in the papers a week ago. I told Linda so, but she would not believe me. She asked me to make her a generous marriage allowance. I refused. If Harelson cannot afford to keep a wife, he has no business getting married. I went to her room after Ruthven wakened me this morning, and saw she had hastily packed."

"What of Lady Grieve's illness?"

"I fobbed you off with that tale, to hide Linda's shame. I hoped to find her before they got the knot tied, and bring her home. I fear she and Harelson already have a special license."

"Why did you pick on Eastbourne?"

"Because Harelson comes here often. He has a friend who has a house in town, but I have not been able to discover it. Linda's note said she was going to London, so I knew that was the last place she would be." Next came the question I had been dreading. "How do you come to be here, Eve?"

"I fear I have bad news for you, Richard," I said, conning my mind for the least damning way to word my reason. "Linda accidentally showed Hennie a ring that Harelson gave her. I saw by Ketchen's list this morning that it is one Tom stole."

He looked positively blank. "You mean Harelson is mixed up with Tom?" he asked.

"It looks that way." I said not a word about either Linda or himself being anything but a dupe. "He asked her not to show anyone the ring."

"When did he give it to her?"

"She has had it for months. How did he come to do such a foolish thing as to give her a stolen ring?"

"He was hot to marry her, when he thought she was wealthy in her own right. She was seeing another fellow at the time. I expect this was his way of securing her imaginary fortune. He thinks that by marrying her, he will force my hand to give her an allowance."

"And if he is Tom, or mixed up with Tom, he thinks you will not say so, when he is a part of your family."

As we spoke, the carriage rattled along, coursing up and down those pretty shaded streets of Eastbourne. Suddenly a "Hoi!" rang out, and the horses drew to a stop.

From his perch, Topby pointed to a brick house, smaller than a mansion, but it had a fine entrance with a pediment and fanlight. It looked like a respectable tradesman's residence.

Dalton squared his shoulders. "You had best stay in the rig, Eve." He removed the pistol from the side pocket, stuck it into the waist of his trousers, got out, and smoothed his jacket over it. Ketchen ran back to join us. They both insisted I remain in the carriage, so I did. It seemed wise to have someone outside to run for help, in case they did not come out.

They went to the door and knocked. No one replied, and after a moment's hesitation, they went in. The door appeared to be on the latch. I sat, watching and listening for perhaps ten minutes. I was on nettles, expecting to hear gunshots, or to see someone come hurtling out the door. When I could stand it no longer, I left the carriage and decided to sneak in by the back door. Imagine my astonishment to see, over the vine-covered fence, a wedding in progress.

Linda, as pretty as ever in a pale pink gown and the leghorn bonnet from her portrait, stood beside Harelson, who was rigged out in formal dress. A minister stood with the prayer book before his face. Another lady, a total stranger, completed the party. While Richard searched the empty house, Linda was being hitched for life to a man who was penniless at best, and at worst, was the infamous cat burglar. I opened the gate and rushed in, just as the minister said those fateful words, "Let him speak now, or forever hold his peace."

"Stop!" I shouted.

The little group turned and stared at me in alarm. The minister lowered his prayer book, and I found myself staring at the handsome blond man who had sold Lady Dormere's emerald ring to Parker in London. Clive Naismith, Grindley had called him. Robert, I thought to myself. A minister of the church stealing jewelry? A second thought told me it was more likely a thief was posing as a minister, performing a mock marriage. A "wife" would be easily led to conceal her husband's crimes.

They all stared in confusion. Linda said, "Eve!"; Harelson said, "Miss Denver"; the "minister" dropped his prayer book and said to Harelson, "Who the hell is that woman?"

I went pelting forward, confident that Richard and Ketchen would not be far behind. "You cannot marry Harelson, Linda," I said. "He is Tom, the burglar—or his friend is." I gave the "minister" a scathing look. "Did you get a fair price for Lady Dormere's emerald ring that you sold to Mr. Parker, sir?"

The man turned white and said, "She's fly to our rig, Harelson."

"Stubble it, Clive," Harelson said under his breath, but in the quiet afternoon, I heard him. So it
was
Clive. Grindley was not present, so I acquitted him of involvement.

Linda gave me a cross look. "How did you get here?" she asked. Then she turned back to Harelson. "You may be sure Richard is not far behind. Let us finish the ceremony at once."

"Are you not listening?" I shouted at her. "That sapphire ring Harelson has been trying to get back from you was stolen by Tom the burglar. You must not marry him."

Harelson and the "minister" exchanged a determined look. It was the latter who came pacing toward me. I noticed that Harelson had a crushing grip on Linda's arm. Before long, Clive had me in a similar hold. All trace of civility had left them. Linda was shrieking; I was kicking and shouting "Richard!" at the top of my lungs. Where was he?

"Shut your face," Clive said. I felt something hard prodding my back and assumed it was a pistol. I fell silent. While the men herded us toward the house, the female witness darted to look into the street. I was frightened, but real terror was held at bay by the knowledge that rescue was at hand.

The woman came pelting back. "There's two carriages out there," she told Clive. "Nobody's in them but the grooms. Best not take these hussies into the house. We might have company."

"I came alone," I said. "One of the carriages is mine."

"What about the other?" Harelson asked.

"It will be Richard's," Linda said, the ninnyhammer. She behaved in an absolutely incomprehensible manner. She did not appear to be frightened, yet she did not seem to consider it a game either. She looked confused and annoyed with us all.

Harelson darted toward the front of the house and was soon back. "It's Dalton's rig," he said to Clive. "We've got to get the ladies out of here. Marion, bring my carriage around to the rear of the house."

Marion ran off to do as she was bid. We were now two against two, but unfortunately two strong men against two unarmed women.

"We can't leave Dalton alone in the house," Clive objected. "He'll find the stash." Linda frowned dumbly.

"I'll take care of Dalton. You get the ladies out of here," Harelson said. As he was giving the orders, I figured he was the ringleader. Lord Harelson was the infamous burglar, and here I had thought him quite a swell.

I had not noticed when Harelson drew out his pistol, but he suddenly had one in his hand. He slid it into the waist of his trousers before going into the house. It was now two unarmed women against one armed man. The possibility that Richard and Ketchen would come to our rescue was lessened considerably. If Harelson managed to sneak up on them ... He knew the layout of the house. I had a dreadful vision of Harelson shooting Richard in the back, and knew I must move speedily. I scanned my surroundings for a weapon. There was a stout branch on the ground behind Clive.

Clive made no effort to restrain our arms, but he moved the gun back and forth between us. Linda was fussing with her leghorn bonnet. "This is a fine way for a minister of the church to act," she said to Clive. "I shall report you to your bishop when I return home."

Clive just grinned at her simplicity, then winked a conspiratorial wink at me. I opened my reticule, planning to "accidentally" drop it and pick up the branch. The difficulty was that I would have to drop the reticule two feet from me.

"No tricks if you know what's good for you," Clive said, and dashed the reticule from my hands.

"You are very rude!" Linda said, stepping closer to him.

I bent down to rescue my reticule. I heard Clive say, "You may see worse than this before the day's over, milady."

I made a lunge and picked up the branch. Linda saw what I was up to. I fully expected her to give the show away, but I think she was beginning to understand our situation. She smiled flirtatiously at Clive. "What do you plan to do to me?" she asked, in a coquettish voice.

I raised the branch and swung it at his head. He was thrown off balance, but not knocked unconscious. His head was obviously harder than wood.

"Hit him again!" Linda squealed. I swung at his stomach the second time, and he doubled over in pain.

Linda snatched his gun while I ripped off his cravat and bound his hands behind his back. This was accompanied by a string of proficient oaths and curses—from Clive, I mean.

Soon other curses rent the air. It was Topby, pelting toward us, gaping in wonder. "Lordy, Lordy! What is afoot, Miss Denver? I saw Harelson peering over the gate, and thought I should investigate."

"Harelson is in the house with Dalton and Ketchen. He has a gun. Secure this lout to a tree, and run for a constable as fast as you can."

"You're never going in there!"

Linda handed me the gun, smiling apologetically. She glanced at Clive. "He isn't a
real
minister, is he?" she said.

"If he's a minister, I'm a nun. Let us go." I snatched up my reticule, for I had brought a good deal of cash with me.

Topby took out a clasp knife and cut down a clothesline. He walked toward Clive in a determined way. Linda and I went cautiously into the house.

The last thing I expected to hear was laughter, but Richard's unmistakable laugh rang out. It came from abovestairs. There was no sign of Harelson. We crept into the kitchen and followed the sound of laughter to the foot of the stairs. Harelson was just coming down, his hands bound behind him, while Ketchen and Richard followed.

"Eve! I told you to stay in the carriage," Richard said.

I looked at Linda, wondering what she would say to Harelson, and what he could possibly say to her. He looked thoroughly ashamed of himself. He hadn't the bottom to look at her, or to apologize. He just stared at his feet, while his face turned from white to scarlet.

She pulled the sapphire ring off and put it in his pocket. "I won't be needing this," she said. A tear glittered in her eyes. I never saw her looking lovelier than she looked that minute, with her pretty little face crumpled by sorrow.

"That there is evidence, milady," Ketchen said, and recovered the sapphire from Harelson's pocket.

We all stood at the foot of the stairs. Sunlight came in at the windows, painting rectangles of light on the parquet floor. Dust motes floated languidly in the rays of sunlight. For a moment, there was not a sound.

"The other man, Clive, let out the loot is in the house," I said to Richard.

"We found it. Ketchen will take it into custody." He turned to Linda, who was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. The frustration was easy to see on his face, but there was sympathy there, too. "I'm sorry, sis," he said, and she fell, sobbing, on his chest.

It seemed best to get her away from Harelson, so I suggested she and Richard and I go into the saloon for a glass of wine, while awaiting the constable. I left them alone for their explanations while I ran upstairs to get a look at Tom's loot, before it was taken away. I found it in the master bedroom, in a wooden trunk on the floor. All manner of jewelry: diamonds, pearls, rubies, set in necklaces and bracelets and rings. A king's ransom in gems. There was no cash. That they used as quickly as it came in. I later learned the plan was to take the jewelry to the continent, and sell it there.

I found my silver and my Rembrandt in the clothespress. They were the only things other than cash and jewelry that Tom had taken.

That night, after we were all home and the criminals were incarcerated, Richard told me why. "It was a ruse to get you to London, so Tom could search Lady Grieve's house for your jewelry. He drove to London after Brockley's party, and was back by morning."

"Odd he did not search my house in Brighton after all."

"Not really. Last night, after having robbed your London house the night before, Mrs. Henderson saw Linda wearing the sapphire ring. He was afraid Linda would tell the whole, as she did. He knew that if it reached my ears, I would recognize it at once, and suspect he was Tom. He set up this runaway wedding, feeling I would be forced to hold my tongue when he was married to Linda."

"It cannot be a real wedding! Clive is not a minister?"

"He did take holy orders. Later he went to the bad."