Our hosts, Lord and Lady Fleetwhite, met us at the double doors as we were announced into the drawing room. The only thing I knew about him was he was important at Whitehall. I knew nothing about her. When I was almost immediately introduced to Mr. Goschen, the First Lord of the Admiralty, I felt like I had stepped into another world. Last night I had met the prime minister. Tonight it was a member of his cabinet.
There were two other, younger men in the room who were introduced as Sir William Darby and Mr. Frederick Nobles. I curtsied my way through the introductions, praying my shock and confusion didn’t show.
One of the things Phyllida had taught me was the importance of having an even number of men and women at dinner parties. She said she learned the necessity of balanced numbers at social events at about the time she learned to walk. Since Lady Fleetwhite was the only other lady present, I knew something was not right.
We went into the dining room, where instead of being seated by order of precedence, I had the duke on one side and Sir William on the other. Lady Fleetwhite sat across from me, with Mr. Nobles on one side and Mr. Goschen on the other. Lord Fleetwhite sat at our end of the table. The other half of the table sat empty of place settings or decoration, putting us close enough together so that no one needed to raise his voice to be heard.
“I’m afraid we’re not doing things by the rules tonight,” Lady Fleetwhite said.
“More in the family style. How lovely,” I replied with a bright smile. My mind was working feverishly. They wanted something from me, or more precisely, the Archivist Society. Since the Admiralty was represented, I knew Gattenger’s blueprints for the new warship were the reason for this meeting.
Once the soup course had been delivered to our mysterious dinner party, the servants departed. I had eaten one spoonful when Lord Fleetwhite said, “I understand you don’t believe Kenneth Gattenger killed his wife.”
“I don’t.”
“Why?”
I took a deep breath as I set down my spoon. “A burglar could have come and gone from the study during the Gattengers’ dinner without leaving a trace. However, they had a shortened dinner that night and went straight to the study. There’s room behind the door for an enterprising thief to hide when the Gattengers entered the room.”
Glancing around, I saw I had everyone’s attention. The duke gave me an encouraging nod. “Gattenger says that’s where the burglar hid, and it was only when Gattenger blocked his escape out the window that the thief, with the plans in one hand, struck him down. The shouting the servants heard could have been Mr. and Mrs. Gattenger shouting at the thief when they saw him, and not a fight between husband and wife.”
“A convenient story,” Sir William said. “The thief could have easily escaped through the house.”
“With the household raising a hue and cry after him? This way, the burglar could escape unseen by any but the Gattengers. Kenny was down, no threat to him, and he apparently didn’t realize Clara would try to stop him. He probably made the mistake of thinking a woman would have the vapors at the slightest hint of trouble.”
Lady Fleetwhite looked down, her serviette raised too late to hide her smile.
“Yes, well,” Sir William began and ground to a stop.
“We need to know what happened to those plans. That warship is increasingly important to our safety as a nation,” Mr. Goschen said. I wondered if the worry lines etched into his forehead and around his eyes were new or from years of serving Her Majesty. The dark circles under his eyes were no doubt due to the current crisis.
“I think Clara grabbed for the plans and managed to tear at least the last sheet. I also think the burglar struck out at her to try to save the plans he was sent to steal. The piece that was found partially burned near her body could have fallen into the fire when she was attacked and killed. Her death may have been a tragic accident.” Clara, who’d married beneath her class for love and died protecting her husband’s work, had won my admiration.
“The thief has the plans minus at least part of the last page. A page with critical calculations,” Blackford said. “You must be ready for an attempt to steal that last page. And we believe we’ve uncovered a traitor in the records room.”
“Who?” Goschen demanded.
“We have someone planted in the records room who is watching the suspect. As soon as he is certain, he’ll let us know,” the duke said.
“So far, there’s been no report of anyone tampering with or trying to steal the last page of those blueprints,” Goschen said.
“We don’t believe the person who ordered the theft has learned part of the plans is missing. The thief still has them, and he wouldn’t know what was important and what wasn’t,” Blackford said.
“How do we know we can trust the discretion of the Archivist Society?” Mr. Nobles asked.
“Because you can,” I answered as everyone else looked at him.
Mr. Nobles shut his mouth and gave one long nod.
The servants came in and cleared the soup course, replacing it with fish and green peas. Once they had left, I continued. “Ken and Clara Gattenger were happy together. They’d waited a long time to wed, and they enjoyed each other’s company very much.”
“What of the gossip I heard about their public rows? I saw one myself,” Lady Fleetwhite said.
“They’d only been married a year, and Clara Gattenger had suffered two miscarriages. She was devastated by the loss.”
Sir William and Mr. Nobles were both blushing. The other men took a sudden interest in their fish. Lady Fleetwhite shook her head slightly as she glanced around the table and said, “Are you certain it was a love match?”
“Yes.”
“What about his rumored affairs? One was with the current—friend of the German spy, Baron von Steubfeld.”
“The Gattengers had a very long engagement, broken off twice, at which times Mr. Gattenger had affairs with other women. There were no affairs while their engagement was ongoing or after they wed,” I assured her.
“Apparently he loved his wife. If that is so, he would have found a way to destroy those plans without endangering her. I believe you, Mrs. Monthalf. Those ship designs were stolen, not destroyed by Kenneth Gattenger.” Lady Fleetwhite gave her husband one sharp nod.
“Drawings that we must prevent from falling into the wrong hands,” her husband said.
“How do you know they haven’t already?” I asked.
Several of the men exchanged glances. Finally, Sir William said, “There is a branch of Whitehall that has ears in many places. That’s not entirely accurate. They’re not our ears, just ears who are sympathetic to our interests.”
“For money,” I said.
“Sometimes. Sometimes their interests are a bit more complicated. All of them, here in London or in Berlin, are certain the warship design has not reached the kaiser’s government. They are very aware it is missing, but German telegrams indicate they don’t know where it is.”
“Are you certain the burglar was in the employ of the Germans? We are not well loved by the French and Russians, much less the Austrians, the Spanish, the—” the duke began.
Lord Fleetwhite interrupted him. “The French now know they’re missing, as do the Russians and Austrians. None of them seem to have been involved in the actual theft, but now their local agents are all scouting around, trying to get their hands on those papers by order of their governments.”
“Sir Henry Stanford convinced Gattenger to recheck his equations on the night the burglar took the plans. He needs money. Do we have any idea which government could have paid him to make the theft possible?” The duke looked around the table.
His words ruined my appetite. At least I had eaten a few bites of the fish before the servants whisked it away, replaced by pigeons and beans in thick gravy. I didn’t mind talking through this course. “Do the police have eyes on the Russian and French spies? Do we know the identity of everyone involved in trying to recover the ship’s plans?”