“He killed a woman, apparently to silence her.”
“Dear me, dear me. How dreadful.” Tredlow hesitated hopefully. “I don’t suppose it might have been an accident of some sort?”
“Hardly. He strangled her with a cravat.”
“I see.” Tredlow heaved a deep sigh. “How unfortunate. Not the sort of thing that is generally good for business.”
“Unless one is in my line, of course,” Lavinia said. “Now, then, concerning the name of the owner of the Medusa bracelet. You were about to mention it, I believe.”
“Not before we mention my fee.”
Lavinia recalled Howard’s anguished words: Money is no obstacle. “How much do you want for this tiny snippet of information that I can no doubt obtain elsewhere without too much trouble, Mr. Tredlow?”
Tredlow fell to haggling with his customary enthusiasm. It was, after collecting erotic Greek vases, his favorite sport. Fortunately, Lavinia thought, she’d had some experience in that line herself. The enforced stay in Rome a few months back had been instructive in many respects.
“Lord Banks owns the Medusa, I believe,” Tredlow said when the bargain was struck. “The only reason I know that is because the relic found its way into Prendergast’s shop about a year and a half ago. Prendergast very wisely consulted with me to determine a price. He is extremely weak in the field of British-Roman antiquities, you know.”
“I see.” Lavinia kept her voice noncommittal. She was well aware of the long-standing rivalry between Prendergast and Tredlow.
“I saw Prendergast later and asked what had become of the bracelet. He mentioned that he had sold it to Banks. I was somewhat surprised. At one time Banks was quite an active collector of antiquities, but he got rid of the vast majority of his best pieces a few years ago after his wife died. Don’t know why he wanted the Blue Medusa, but there you have it.”
“I wonder why Lord Banks hasn’t sent word around concerning the theft,” Emeline said with a puzzled air.
Tredlow snorted. “His lordship is quite elderly, you know. Both feet in the grave, as it were. I’m told he has a bad heart and in recent months his mind has become a sieve. Probably can’t recall what he had for breakfast, much less whether or not he owns the Blue Medusa. I doubt that he even knows he’s been robbed.”
“That would certainly explain why he has not made the theft public.” Lavinia tapped the toe of her kid half boot and pondered that information. “What better victim than one who isn’t even aware of his loss?”
“But surely there is someone in his household who would be aware that the bracelet has gone missing,” Emeline said.
Tredlow shrugged. “As far as I know, his only relation is his niece. A Mrs. Rushton, I believe. She came to live with Banks a few months ago after she learned that he was on his deathbed. Probably didn’t expect him to hang on this long.”
Excitement brushed across Lavinia’s nerves. Tobias had told her that an impatient heir made a lovely suspect.
“This Mrs. Rushton is in line to inherit Banks’s fortune?”
“So I’m told.”
“Is she a collector?” Lavinia asked, trying not to give away her growing anticipation.
Tredlow grunted. “If the lady had a serious interest in antiquities, I would have seen her in my shop by now. As I have not made her acquaintance, I think it’s safe to say that she is no collector and would have no notion at all of the value of an item such as the Blue Medusa.” His brows rose in speculation. “I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she is still unaware of the fact that the bracelet has been stolen.”
“Yet the rumors are out in the underworld,” Emeline observed.
Tredlow dismissed that with a shrug. “Probably initiated by the thief in his efforts to attract a potential purchaser for the relic.”
“Do you happen to know Banks’s address?” Lavinia asked quickly.
“His lordship has got a crumbling old mansion in Edgemere Square, I believe.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tredlow.” She retied her bonnet strings. “You’ve been very helpful.” She swung around and made for the door. “Come, Emeline, we must be off.”
Tredlow scurried after them and politely opened the door. He swept a deep bow and then fixed Lavinia with a darkling gaze. “When should I expect my fee, Mrs. Lake?”
“Don’t worry.” Lavinia lifted one gloved hand in airy farewell. “You shall receive it just as soon as my client pays me for my services.”
“Now, see here-”
Lavinia went smartly through the opening, forestalling further conversation. Emeline gave Tredlow a sweet smile and followed. The door closed behind them.
Out on the street in front of the shop, Emeline looked at Lavinia. “I saw a certain shrewd gleam in your eyes when Tredlow mentioned Banks’s niece, Mrs. Rushton. I am coming to recognize that expression. What were you thinking?”
“It occurred to me that, as Banks’s heir, Mrs. Rushton may be involved in this affair in one of two ways. Either she had some part in the theft-”
“That seems unlikely, if you ask me. After all, she was set to inherit the bracelet, together with the rest of Banks’s fortune.”
“Or she is every bit as much a victim as Banks himself. As you just pointed out, she was due to inherit. His loss is her loss.”
“Which means?”
“That she may well be a potential client for Lake and March.”
Emeline looked at her with gratifying admiration. “Aunt Lavinia, that is positively brilliant. You may well have uncovered a second client in this affair.”
“Indeed.” Lavinia tried to remain modest. It was not an easy matter. Two clients would mean double the fees.
“Mr. March will be very pleased,” Emeline said.
“It will be interesting to see if he is properly appreciative of my initiative.” Lavinia frowned. “Lately he has begun to take a distinctly proprietary air toward my business.”
“Proprietary?”
“Yes.” Lavinia paused in the street to wait for a farmer’s wagon to move past. “One might even call him dictatorial. He is forever telling me what I should and should not do. He even had the nerve to tell me that I had no business placing an advertisement in the newspapers.”
“Oh, dear.”
“As if it was any of his concern how I choose to advertise my business.”
“I’m sure he means well.”
“Rubbish. He means to discourage me from pursuing a career as an investigator. If you ask me, he does not like the fact that, when we are not working together as partners on a case, I am, in effect, his competition.”
“Come now, Aunt Lavinia, it is natural that he feels a duty to advise you in matters pertaining to your business. After all, he has had a great deal more experience than you have had.”
“He is doing his best to keep my experience quite limited.”
“Why do you say that?”
“As an example, he refuses to introduce me to his connections in the criminal underworld. Just this morning, I suggested that he introduce me to that tavern owner he calls Smiling Jack. He refused.”
“I see what you mean,” Emeline said. “I suppose Mr. March feels that it would be inappropriate for you to consult with the owner of a tavern.”
“In my experience, Mr. March has never been overly concerned with the niceties of propriety,” Lavinia declared. “I do not believe for one moment that he is attempting to protect me from unsuitable connections. It is far more likely that he wishes to keep Smiling Jack to himself.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes, I do. As proof of that conclusion, I must tell you that he also made excuses not to introduce me to Lord Crackenburne.”
“Hmm.”