“I have no doubt of that, madam.” He smiled coldly. “But I cannot resist the opportunity to watch you at work. Perhaps you are right. I may have been overlooking your contributions to this partnership. It is time I paid attention to see if I can learn a few things from you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lavinia and Tobias were ushered into Lord Banks’s hushed, heavily draped drawing room shortly after two the following afternoon.
The interior of the mansion was even more depressing than the exterior, Lavinia thought. The colors were muddy and dark; the items of furniture, large, heavy, and old-fashioned.
A severe-looking woman of indeterminate years sat reading a book near the window. She was dressed in somber brown bombazine. A handsome, decorative chatelaine, with several keys attached, hung from a cord at her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot.
“Good afternoon,” Mrs. Rushton said in uninviting tones.
She put down her book and peered first at Lavinia, with a distinct lack of interest. But when she switched her attention to Tobias, her expression brightened immediately.
Rather like a cat that has just spotted a bird in the garden, Lavinia thought.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Lavinia said more coldly than she had intended. “We will try not to take too much of your time, but we feel certain you will be interested in what we have to say.”
“Please, sit down.” Mrs. Rushton smiled very warmly at Tobias as she motioned her guests to the brown sofa.
Lavinia seated herself, but Tobias went to take up his favored position at the nearest window, putting what little light seeped into the room behind him, as was his habit.
“I shall come straight to the point,” Lavinia said. “My associate, Mr. March, and I are in the business of conducting private inquiries.”
That information succeeded in distracting Mrs. Rushton briefly from Tobias. She blinked a couple of times at Lavinia. “I don’t understand. I thought Bow Street Runners handled that sort of thing.”
“We are employed by a more exclusive sort of clientele than that which patronizes Bow Street,” Lavinia said.
“I see.” Mrs. Rushton looked blank.
“Persons of quality who insist upon the utmost discretion come to us,” Lavinia added by way of clarification.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tobias’s mouth twitch in that very annoying fashion that made her want to grind her teeth. She paid no attention. It was important to establish the proper impression upon a potential client. She understood such things, even if he did not.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Rushton’s attention drifted back toward Tobias. “How interesting.”
“At the moment,” Lavinia said icily, “we are searching for a killer.”
“Good heavens.” Mrs. Rushton put a hand to her bosom. Her eyes widened. “How very bizarre. I have never heard of ladies pursuing that sort of career.”
“It is rather uncommon,” Lavinia agreed. “But that is neither here nor there. Please allow me to explain our business with you. Mr. March and I have reason to believe that a woman who was murdered recently stole something of considerable value from this household shortly before her death.”
“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Rushton stared at her. “But that is impossible. I assure you that no one has broken into this house.” She looked around quickly. “See for yourself. The silver is still here. Nothing is missing.”
“The object in question is a very old bracelet,” Tobias said.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Rushton said with great authority. “I would most certainly have noticed a bracelet missing from my jewelry box.”
“This was an extremely ancient piece of jewelry known among collectors as the Blue Medusa,” Lavinia said. “Do you know it?”
Mrs. Rushton grimaced. “If you refer to that old bracelet that my uncle keeps locked in a chest in his bedchamber, yes, of course I know it. It is really quite unfashionable and certainly not what one would call a particularly interesting antiquity. Found right here in England, I believe. Not as though it came from one of the classical ruins of Greece or Rome, now, is it?”
“Do you know why Banks acquired that particular relic after selling off his collection of antiquities?” Tobias asked.
Mrs. Rushton gave a soft snort. “If you ask me, an unscrupulous dealer took advantage of the fact that my uncle was starting to become quite confused in his thinking a year and a half ago. A result of several fits of apoplexy, I’m afraid.”
“The Blue Medusa is considered quite valuable by some,” Lavinia ventured cautiously.
“I will admit that the gold appears to be of excellent quality and it is rather nicely worked,” Mrs. Rushton said. “But the stone is quite unattractive. I wouldn’t dream of wearing it. I intend to sell the thing as soon as my uncle makes his transition. The doctor does not expect him to survive the month, you know.”
“We have heard of his lordship’s illness,” Lavinia said gently. “Please accept our condolences.”
“He has not been well for some time. It will be a blessing when he finally passes on to the next world.”
A blessing for whom? Lavinia wondered.
“We understand that you moved in here to take care of him,” Tobias said neutrally.
“One must do one’s duty, of course,” Mrs. Rushton said with a martyr’s firm resolve. “There was no one else, you see. I am the last of the line. I have done my best, but I can tell you that the task has not been an easy one. It has put a great strain on my nerves, which, I must tell you, were never very strong.”
“I understand,” Lavinia murmured encouragingly.
“When I was a child my mother warned me that I would need to take care not to expose my delicate nerves to extreme strain. She was right. After the shock of my dear husband’s death three years ago, I discovered that I was prone to female hysteria. It is a very distressing affliction. One which my doctor tells me requires regular treatments.”
“If we might return to the subject of the Medusa,” Tobias said before Lavinia could pursue that line of inquiry, “when was the last time you checked to see that it was secure in Banks’s safe?”
“I beg your pardon? Oh, yes, the relic.” Mrs. Rushton abandoned the topic of her nerves with obvious reluctance. “It has been some time since I opened the safe, but I’m certain everything is in order.”
“I think it would be a good idea to make sure that the Medusa is still there,” Tobias said.
“I don’t see why I should-”
“It would set my mind at ease, Mrs. Rushton,” Tobias said. “And greatly steady my nerves. Mine are a trifle delicate, just as yours are. You know how it is when one becomes anxious.”
“Yes, of course I do.” She rose immediately and went to stand very close to Tobias. She smiled up at him and patted his arm. “I had no notion that you suffered from poor nerves, sir. I understand completely. Indeed, only someone else who is similarly afflicted could possibly comprehend. You have my deepest and most sincere sympathies.”
“Thank you,” Tobias said. “About the bracelet-”
She winked at him. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I will just run upstairs and have a quick look so that I may put your mind at ease.”
She hurried out of the drawing room.
Lavinia looked at Tobias.
“Delicate nerves?” She raised her brows. “You?”
“I’ll wager you never even knew that I suffered from that sort of thing.”
“I never dreamed it. Well, at least you are not likely to succumb to female hysteria.”
“For which I give thanks every day. I wonder if there is a male version.”
She frowned. “This is going to be somewhat awkward if the bracelet is in that safe.”
His mouth twisted. “I very much doubt that it is there. Mr. Nightingale does not strike me as the type to chase after false rumors.”