Newbury had a sly look on his face. “About Fabian and the Bastion Society, you mean?”
“How the devil did you know that?” Bainbridge’s moustache twitched with barely concealed frustration. “Do tell me I didn’t waste the entire night discovering something you already knew.”
Veronica got to her feet. “Don’t let him taunt you, Sir Charles. We’ve simply seen the note you’d written on your desk. What’s the connection? Is Dr. Fabian a member of the Bastion Society?”
Bainbridge shook his head. “He used to be. Had some sort of falling out with them, by all accounts. Graves, in particular. A disagreement of some kind. I wondered if it might give us a way in.”
“Good work, Charles! That’s exactly the sort of angle we’re looking for. I’m sure Fabian will be able to shed some light on Graves and what that lot are up to.”
Bainbridge was still trying to catch his breath. “There’s more. Last night. Another robbery.” He looked from one to the other of them. “Same as before. But this time there’s a body.”
“Murder?” Newbury leapt out of his chair to join the others.
“It would seem so,” Bainbridge continued, “although I’m not yet in full possession of the facts. I am led to believe that the profile is the same as the Regent Street job, however. It seems that Sykes’s mechanical spider was used to force an entry.”
Newbury frowned. “What time was this?”
“Late. Almost certainly in the small hours,” Bainbridge replied.
Newbury gave a cackle of delight.
“What is so darn amusing, Newbury? A man is dead and we have another robbery to contend with.” Bainbridge shifted uneasily. “And you have cuts all over your face. What have you been up to, man?”
Newbury grabbed for the bundled blanket he had placed on the floor by his chair. “This, Charles!” He allowed the blanket to unravel, spilling the components of the spider all over the floor in a shimmering cascade of brass. The tiny cogs and broken legs tinkled as they struck the polished floorboards, bouncing off in all directions. Veronica sighed. Newbury did like his needlessly dramatic flourishes.
Bainbridge poked at the debris with the end of his cane. “Look, is someone going to explain to me- Ah. Yes, I see…” Veronica saw the realisation light up his face. He turned the remains of the machine’s carcass over so that it was the right way up. He studied Newbury’s face. “Is this what caused those cuts to your face?”
Newbury nodded.
“How interesting,” said Bainbridge. “It’s just as we’d imagined. About the size of a small terrier.”
“And a darn sight more intelligent, too. Tried to escape before I got it with the poker.”
“Came for you at the house, did it? Sykes must know we’re on to him.” Bainbridge fiddled with his moustache while he processed the information.
Veronica cleared her throat.
“Actually, Charles, it was Miss Hobbes’s apartment where the attack took place. And I have every reason to believe that Miss Hobbes herself was the target of the assassination attempt.” Newbury touched her arm, just for the briefest of moments. She wondered if he realised he’d done it.
“Good God! I take it you’re unhurt, Miss Hobbes?” There was real concern in Bainbridge’s voice.
“Just a few scratches, Sir Charles. Nothing to concern yourself with.” She tried to sound dismissive, even though the large gouge in her forearm had been causing her to wince in pain all morning.
“Excellent, excellent. Wouldn’t do to have you in the path of danger, Miss Hobbes. Not at all.” Bainbridge straightened his back, as though signifying that was an end to the matter.
Veronica rolled her eyes.
“I gather from your outburst, Newbury, that these events occurred earlier in the evening than our robbery and suspected murder?”
Newbury was animated again. “Indeed they did, Charles. Around eight. And that can only mean-”
“-there’s more than one spider,” Bainbridge finished.
“Precisely!” said Newbury.
Veronica sighed. “The more pertinent point, however, is that multiple spiders suggests multiple criminals. Perhaps Sykes was just one of a number of individuals all operating with the same equipment. Could he have been part of a criminal gang? A network of jewellery thieves?”
“You make an excellent point, Miss Hobbes.” Bainbridge pondered her words for a moment, and then shook his head. “And you might yet be right, but the evidence at the crime scenes was always- is always-the same: a man of about Sykes’s height, with the same shoe size and consistent habits. It seems unlikely that a criminal gang would go to the lengths of recruiting only men of the same height and shoe size and teaching them to behave according to identical patterns, though it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.”
“I wonder how many of the men named in those files would match that profile,” Newbury ventured.
“We may yet need to find out. But for now, I have a crime scene to attend to and another body to identify,” Bainbridge replied. “I’m heading there now. Can you come?”
Veronica looked to Newbury for his answer.
“Of course we’ll come. Lead on!” Newbury clapped his hand on Bainbridge’s shoulder. He lowered his voice. “And don’t think for a minute, old man, that I’m going to let you get away with planting your spy in my house. As soon as I can make other arrangements, I’ll be sending him back.”
“Quite right, too,” Bainbridge replied, grinning. “Damn good cook, though, isn’t he?”
“Sublime,” Newbury said, pushing the chief inspector out the door.
The scene of the second robbery was a residence. A house on Cromer Street, set back from the road, nestled behind a pretty garden brimming with evergreens and late spring blooms. Veronica filled her nostrils with the heady scents as the three investigators walked the path up to the big house.
It was an imposing two-storey building, erected sometime in the preceding fifty years. It was not stately, but had a more homely appeal-clearly the dwelling of a large and well-to-do family, probably of a similar station to her own parents. The thought of them made her heart sink, so Veronica pushed the notion to one side.
No, this family was clearly different-they were interested in more than just status. She could tell from the large wooden playhouse that someone had built in the garden that whoever lived here showed an actual interest in their children. She hoped those children had been spared the horror of the corpse that Bainbridge had warned them waited at the foot of the stairs inside.
She was pleased to find, a moment later, that this was indeed the case. A bobby on the door explained that the family had been escorted from the premises first thing that morning, after one of the servants had discovered the body and alerted the police. That was a small mercy, at least.
Inspector Foulkes, who had secured the scene, was there to greet their little party when they stepped over the threshold and into the cavernous hallway inside. He looked as serious and professional as ever in his grey woollen suit and bowler hat. His full, black beard had grown since Veronica had last seen him, a few months earlier, and he was stroking it ponderously, as if trying to decide what his next move might be.
He looked up when he saw them approaching. “A fine mess we have here, I’m afraid,” he said with an exasperated tone, reaching out to shake hands with the men. “I’d recommend, Miss Hobbes, that you don’t come any closer, but I know from experience you’ll pay me no heed.” His sea green eyes flashed with amusement.
“Indeed not, Inspector,” she replied, secretly bracing herself for whatever horrors she might have to face. “I rarely pay anyone any heed. I find it’s the only way to form an opinion of my own.” She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but Newbury nudged her gently with his elbow, as if simultaneously joining in with her ribbing of the inspector and warning her to stand down.
Veronica tried to get a measure of the situation, taking in the scene. The hallway was spacious and central to the property, with extensive wings to the left and right and a grand staircase directly opposite the main entrance. Ornate banisters curled upwards in sweeping lines of gleaming hardwood. A few uniformed policemen were milling around, and a man in a brown suit-a doctor, she supposed-was standing over the corpse on the floor. For the time being, she averted her eyes. She wouldn’t look at it until she had to.