On the subject of the policies prevailing at Bailey
'
s, they were again at loggerheads.
"Policies are essential for a smooth-running day-to-day operation,
"
Annabelle insisted. By this time she and Dalmar had changed places. He was seated at her desk, leafing through a mountain of paper which one of Annabelle
'
s clerks had set down five minutes before.
"Good God, woman!
"
he exclaimed. "How can anyone ever get anything done with so much verbiage to wade through? It will take me a month of Sundays to digest this piffle.
"
Annabelle peered over his shoulder as the Earl quickly thumbed through each offensive policy paper. "It does look like rather a lot when they
'
re all together,
"
she allowed.
He snorted. "Policies on punctuation and grammar—that I will permit. A policy in case of fire—well, perhaps that is prudent. But,
"
his voice rose in incredulity, "a policy on the frequency of water-closet breaks? I ask you, Annabelle, is that really necessary?
"
Her lips pursed together. "Some of the apprentices were taking advantage,
"
she answered, clearly nettled.
"Then let their foreman settle them.
"
He noted the slight pout of her lower lip and offered placatingly, "I daresay we can
salvage the odd one. We
'
ll work on them together at the end of the week when we go to your brother-in-law
'
s place.
"
"I
'
m not erasing one iota of what
'
s on those policy papers,
"
she told him. "Dalmar, it
'
s the only way to run a business.
"
"I can
'
t work like that.
"
"And I can
'
t work any other way.
"
He quirked one brow. "We could compromise.
"
"How?
"
"Simple. You hand over Monique Dupres
'
s diaries, and I leave your policies intact.
"
Furious, she told him what she thought of that idea.
"Plus three thousand pounds?
"
he threw in for good measure.
"What?
"
"You heard me. That
'
s one thousand clear profit. Take it or leave it, Annabelle. But just remember this: once I walk through that door, that
'
s it. When I return, there will be no holds barred. Annabelle, you can
'
t win this fight. Give it up.
"
Thin-lipped, she fetched his hat and gloves.
"I
'
ll make it guineas,
"
were the last words he said before she shut the door in his face.
Hours later Annabelle was still smarting from the encounter. Arrogant man! And unethical too! It wasn
'
t Bailey
'
s he was interested in, but only those diaries. Three thousand guineas was no mean bribe. Belatedly it occurred to her that Dalmar knew the exact sum she had paid over to Monique Dupres. It was possible that the French girl had confided in the Earl, but somehow Annabelle did not think it likely. It left her wondering how he had come by the information and why he was prepared to go to such lengths to lay his hands on the diaries.
In the drawing room after dinner, she appeared to be preoccupied. If Bertie noticed anything amiss, she wisely kept it to herself. Since Annabelle was toiling at her knitting, Richard thought little of his mother
'
s abstracted look. He was full of the projected trip to Rosedale. In front of the fire, he set out his knights in battle order and chattered incessantly of his cousins and all the things he was going to do with Lord Dalmar once they got there. He was in the throes of explaining the finer
points of a horse
'
s head (almost verbatim from the Earl's mouth) when Annabelle suddenly jumped to her feet.
"He
'
s in those damned diaries, that
'
s what!
"
"Dear?
"
said Bertie, startled.
Annabelle was already making for the door. "Don
'
t hold the tea tray for me. I have an errand to run. I shouldn
'
t be more than half an hour.
"
"But where are you off to?
"
cried Bertie.
"Bailey
'
s—to get the diaries.
"
She sent a footman to fetch a hackney. In the coach she got her keys ready. It took only minutes to get to her destination, and though it was dark, Annabelle dismissed the carriage. There were plenty of people about in the streets and in Soho Square. And there was a night watchman in attendance at Bailey
'
s. She did not see what harm could come to her.
She pushed through the front entrance. "It
'
s me, Mrs. Jocelyn,
"
she called out to alert the night watchman of her presence.
Overhead, she heard a board creak. "Joe, are you there?
"
she called again, and made for the stairs.
In the upstairs landing she halted. The only wall lantern had gone out. Annabelle frowned. She presumed that one of her employees had omitted to trim the wick or refill the bowl with whale oil. Clucking to herself, she moved slowly through the blanket of darkness toward her office, holding her hands out in front of her. In one of her desk drawers she kept candles and flint for just such an emergency. She reached a hand for the drawer handle and froze.
"Who
'
s there?
"
she called out, and instinctively sidestepped, evading the blow just as it fell.
Something heavy shattered against her desk. Annabelle emitted one shrill scream and bolted. She thundered down the stairs, raced out the front door, and careered straight into a passerby. Strong arms enfolded her. She screamed again.
"Annabelle? What the devil!
"
She almost fainted with relief. "Gerry, is it you?
"
She saw that it was Lord Temple, and clung to him like a limpet. "Someone tried to murder me,
"
she sobbed out.
It took several minutes to calm her. Lord Temple patiently
listened to her incoherent explanation, and by dint of careful questioning got the story out of her. He called a passing hackney, handed her in, and instructed her to wait for him.
She saw that he meant to enter Bailey
'
s and called out, "Gerry, for heaven
'
s sake, don
'
t go in there alone! At least let me call the night watch!
"
He waved her to silence and disappeared through the door. After several minutes, Annabelle observed a light in her office. Several more minutes were to pass before Lord Temple came out of the building.
"Burglars,
"
he told her. "They
'
ve knocked out your night watchman. Don
'
t worry! He
'
s coming round. Why don
'
t you go home, and I
'
ll look after things here.
"
"Oh, thank God, Joe is all right,
"
said Annabelle
, then. "Burglars? But what…
?
"
Suddenly everything became clear.
"I can
'
t see that they
'
ve taken anything,
"
began Lord Temple, looking anxiously at Annabelle
'
s set face, which had turned chalk white.
"Oh, I think I know what they were after,
"
she said, and insisted on going back into the building.
Her first care was for the night watchman. Apart from the lump on the top of his head, he had no other injuries. Though he was dazed, several long swallows from Lord Temple
'
s silver flask brought him out of his stupor. It appeared that he himself had opened the door to his attackers when one of them had identified himself as Annabelle
'
s head printer. The ruse was simple but effective.
Upstairs, Annabelle found things just as she surmised.
"What
'
s missing?
"
asked Lord Temple, his eyes traveling the small room.
The drawer had been forced. With candle in hand, Annabelle knelt down and opened it. "Only the diaries,
"
she said in a strangely subdued voice.
Lord Temple knew at once to what she referred to. It provoked a lecture and a tongue lashing which made Annabelle wince.
"You
'
ve made your point,
"
she said finally when he paused for breath.
"You
'
ve had a lucky escape,
"
he told her severely. "I
warned you that something like this might happen,
"
His tone gentled. "I don
'
t suppose we shall ever discover who was behind the theft, but we
'
d better report it to the authorities.
"
Annabelle slammed the drawer shut and rose to her feet. "Oh, I think I know who was behind it,
"
she said, unable to hide her bile. "And if you don
'
t mind, Gerry, I prefer to keep the whole episode quiet.
"
No amount of remonstrating on Lord Temple
'
s part could shake Annabelle of her resolve. At length he gave up trying to persuade her to call in Bow Street. As if reading her mind, he said, "I don
'
t think this was the work of Dalmar, Annabelle. In the last number of weeks, I
'
ve observed the man. Whatever he was in his youth, it
'
s not in him now to behave in so shabby a manner.
"
"Oh, do you think so?
"
she asked noncommittally. She was remembering Dalmar
'
s words spoken only hours before.
Once I return, there
'
ll be no holds barred.
They locked up the building and took the night watchman home in their hired hackney. The drive to Greek Street was made in silence. On the front steps Annabelle seemed to come to herself and was profuse in her thanks for Lord Temple
'
s assistance.
"Think nothing of it,
"
he said. "It was sheer luck that I was passing by. I was on my way to call on you, as it happened, to ask if you would like my escort to Rosedale on Thursday.
"
"Thank you for the thought, Gerry, but Lord Dalmar has already made the offer, and I have accepted.
"
She made to move past him. "Annabelle,
"
he said, detaining her with a hand on her sleeve, "I
'
m not sorry that the diaries have gone. At least now I
'
ll rest easy knowing you
'
re safe in your bed.
"
"Oh, the diaries haven
'
t gone,
"
she replied.
"What? Did you make a copy, then?
"
"Only in a manner of speaking.
"
Seeing his look compounded of disbelief and shock, she went on, "They
'
re in my head. It may take me some weeks to regurgitate them, but you may be sure that every word Monique Dupres wrote in those diaries will come to me eventually.
"
"
That
'
s impossible!
"
"Oh no, Gerry. That
'
s a promise. And short of murder, there
'
s not a thing anyone can do to stop me.
"
Once inside the house, she made for her chamber and immediately wrote a letter to the French girl advising her of what had happened and warning her to be on her guard. Though it was true that Annabelle could, with very little difficulty, reconstruct the diaries page by page, it was a tedious business and one she was not eager to begin upon. Thinking that Monique Dupres might have a copy in her possession, she requested that it be sent as soon as possible.