“Or a masquerade. Have you ever attended one?”
“No, but—”
"Then we must make it a masquerade, just for you.”
Esther rather preferred a formal ball, but was pleased at the attention of having any sort of party in her honor, and didn’t demur. “I’ll help. I can write the cards for you.”
“What will you come as, Esther? Pierrette? Cinderella?”
“I fancy myself as a more modern, enlightened lady.”
“Madame de Stael, perhaps?”
he joked.
“Or a working lady—say a publican.”
He quelled his annoyance and smiled. “Would you like me to accompany you home now?”
“Oh, I am at home. I’ve moved into the inn,”
she teased.
“Esther!”
“Only for the nonce, while my house is being painted."
“You did it on purpose! You just wanted to be at the hub of all the excitement.”
“Who would not?”
She laughed. “Now it is beginning to seem all the excitement is over.”
“You’d never know it to see the crowds in your lobby."
“And the Bow Street runners here, annoying my customers.”
“Bow Street is here? I’ll have a word with them.”
Joshua left, and Esther went to sit in Buck’s chair to think about the masquerade party. Now, what had made Josh decide to have it? Had he done it for her? She was interrupted by a tap at the door, and before she answered, Lady Gloria came tripping in, dragging an assortment of gossamer shawls after her. Her vague smile didn’t deceive Esther as to the reason for the visit. Lady Gloria always had a complaint. On this occasion she had more interesting words as well.
“Ah, Esther, I was expecting to see Buck, but you will do equally well. I’m afraid the strawberries were a leet-tle sour this morning. They weren’t quite ripe, I think. I hope your guests aren’t all suffering from the gripe as I shall be.”
“I’ll speak to Cook.”
She hoped this would get Lady Gloria out the door, but the dame sat down and tilted her head conspiratorially toward the desk. In the sunlight her scalp showed through her thinning hair. “Quite a ruckus here today.”
“Yes, we’re rather busy.”
“I was just wondering, Esther, whether I should mention Mr. Meecham to Bow Street.”
“If Officer Clifford speaks to you, you might just mention the ladder incident.”
“I had forgotten all about it. No, what I had in mind was the other ... You haven’t had any complaints about theft in your inn?”
Esther blanched. “What do you mean? Are you missing something?”
“Not I. You know I keep all my valuables about me.”
She patted the omnipresent pearls. “I referred to Mr. Fletcher. I saw Mr. Meecham slipping into his room last night, when poor Mr. Fletcher was asleep. It must have been two o’clock. I was awake. I have great trouble sleeping, but I don’t say it is only the traffic in your halls that causes it. It is my age. So annoying, and I can’t read as I used to, either. The eyes are gone.”
“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.”