Tobias drummed his fingers on the wood chair back, thinking. “Does he ever commission thefts?”
Jack rested one hand on his large belly and pondered that. “I cannot say. But I certainly wouldn’t put it past him to take advantage of an opportunity if there was enough blunt in it.”
“You mentioned his exclusive clientele,” Tobias said. “Do you know the names of any who have done business with him?”
“No. As I said, part of what they pay for is a guarantee of absolute discretion. Nightingale provides it. His stock-in-trade is his reputation, after all. He is very careful to preserve it.”
Tobias thought of the words Lavinia had printed on her business cards: Discretion Assured. “It seems that my associate, Mrs. Lake, is not the only one who attempts to lure the more exclusive sort with a promise of discretion.”
Jack raised his beefy shoulders in a great shrug. “The proprietor of a business must do what he or she can to ensure a profit. Now, then, as you requested, I sent word to Nightingale that you wished to meet with him. He responded with such speed that I think it is safe to say he is as eager to discuss this business of the missing antiquity as you are yourself.”
“When and where?”
“I’m afraid that will be up to Nightingale. You need not concern yourself with locating him. He will find you.”
“I do not have a lot of time to waste.”
Jack grimaced. “I got the impression that you will see him soon. Very soon.”
Tobias took another swallow of brandy and lowered the glass. “What else can you tell me about Nightingale? Can you describe him?”
“We’ve met on one or two occasions, but to tell you the truth, I wouldn’t recognize him on the street if he walked up to me and offered a civil greeting. Nightingale makes it a point not to be seen in the light of day by any of his clients or business associates.”
Anthony looked intrigued. “How does he make his, uh, arrangements?”
“He works only at night and he’s careful to stay in the shadows. Uses a couple of street lads to deliver his messages.” Jack rolled his brandy glass between his wide palms. “From what little I’ve seen of him, I can tell you that he’s a small man. Judging from the sound of his voice, I’d say he’s not young. But not old and frail either. Caught a glimpse of him moving off down a foggy lane once. He’s got an odd way of walking.”
“How is that?” Tobias asked.
“A sort of a twist and a slide to his gait, if you know what I mean. I’ll wager he suffered an unfortunate accident at one time or another and the bones never healed properly.”
“An accident of that sort would not be surprising, given his line of work,” Tobias said. “Probably ran afoul of a dissatisfied client.”
“Aye.”
Anthony glanced at Tobias, as if asking permission to put forth a notion of his own.
“What is it?” Tobias asked.
“It merely occurred to me that mayhap Mr. Nightingale effects a severe limp as a part of his disguise.”
Tobias chuckled. “An excellent point. It is, indeed, a distinct possibility.”
Jack glanced at Tobias and closed one eye in a knowing wink. “I’d say your new assistant has a knack for the trade.”
“I’ve been afraid of that,” Tobias said.
Anthony smiled, clearly pleased with himself.
Jack turned back to Tobias. “So, then, ye’ve taken on another case with your occasional partner, eh?”
“Our client claims that his wife was murdered by whoever convinced her to steal the antiquity,” Tobias said neutrally.
“Ah, yes, the mesmerist’s wife.”
Anthony straightened. “You’ve heard about the affair?”
“Aye.” Jack took a swallow of brandy. “Sooner or later that sort of news generally makes its way to the Gryphon.” He studied Tobias. “You’re searching for a killer again, my friend?”
“So it would seem.”
Anthony glanced at Tobias in surprise. “What do you mean by that? There is no question but that Mrs. Hudson was murdered.”
“The lady is dead, all right,” Tobias said. “But I am not at all certain that her killer is unknown to us.”
“I don’t understand,” Anthony said.
“The lady had arranged a meeting with her lover the night she died,” Tobias said patiently. “Her husband was aware of the affair and he admits he knew about the rendezvous. He attended a demonstration of mesmerism that night. The lady was later found strangled. Those are the only real facts we have at this point.”
Anthony was still baffled but Jack nodded, comprehension plain on his scarred features.
“You think Hudson followed her to the rendezvous and killed her in a jealous rage,” he said.
Tobias shrugged. “I think that is the most likely explanation of events, yes.”
“And then discovered too late that she had made off with a valuable antiquity and that the thing was missing.” Jack snorted. “Talk about rough justice, eh?”
“Hold on here,” Anthony said quickly. He turned to Tobias. “Are you saying that you believe Hudson hired you and Mrs. Lake to find Mrs. Hudson’s lover, not because he wants to bring the killer to justice but because he wants to recover the bracelet?”
“In a word, yes,” Tobias said.
“But if you believe that your client is lying, why did you agree to take the case?” Anthony demanded.
“I had no choice in the matter.” Tobias finished his brandy. “My partner made it clear that she was determined to look for the lover and the bracelet with or without me.”
“And you could not let her take on such a dangerous case alone,” Anthony concluded.
“That sums up the situation very precisely.” Tobias looked at Jack. “Have you anything else to tell us?”
“Only that I would advise a bit of caution,” Jack said. “The fact that Mr. Nightingale is involved in this affair is a bit worrisome. Word has it that several of his clients are not only very rich but quite ruthless when it comes to acquiring items for their collections.”
“Oddly enough, I had already reached that conclusion.” Tobias stood and put down the empty brandy glass. “Come, Tony. We must be on our way if we are to arrive at the Stillwater ball before midnight. I can only hope that Nightingale will not keep us cooling our heels for very long.”
“I doubt that he will,” Jack said. “But the only thing I can tell you with any great certainty is that the meeting, when it does occur, will take place at night.”
Chapter Twelve
Shortly after midnight Lavinia stood with Tobias at the edge of Lady Stillwater’s elegantly proportioned ballroom and watched Anthony lead Emeline into the sweeping turns of a waltz. A sense of inevitability descended on her.
“They do look very well together, don’t they?” she said.
“Yes, they do.” There was no inflection in Tobias’s words. “I know that you had every intention of marrying Emeline off to a wealthy man, but sometimes love gets in the way of an otherwise entirely commendable scheme.”
She watched the dancers. “It might be just a passing flirtation.”
“Don’t sound so hopeful. I fear the worst.”
She winced. “The worst being that they are falling in love?”
“That is your view of the matter, is it not?” he said in that same, too-even voice.
For some odd reason the casual manner in which he agreed that falling in love was, indeed, the worst possible outcome flattened her spirits. She wondered morosely if Tobias would consider the possibility of falling in love himself an equally dreadful fate.
“Unfortunately, I feel obliged to inform you that Anthony does, indeed, seem to have a talent for the investigation business,” Tobias added. “Now that he has had a taste of it, I doubt very much that I shall be able to persuade him to reconsider a more stable career.”