“Not locked, but stuck,” he said cheerfully. “Nothing a rock couldn’t cure.”
He tossed the door stop back to Sybil.
She caught it and placed it on the floor behind her rather than return it to the door. She didn’t want to miss a moment of what was to come next.
Still upside-down, Graham held out an arm to his brother. “Are you going to help me hand down all these dresses?”
“You found them!” Sybil bounced in joy.
Elation rang out through the workroom.
Graham hoisted Jacob up through the opening.
“I found dresses,” came Graham’s muffled voice. “Up here, I can’t see well enough to know if they’re the right ones.”
“Toss one down,” Sybil called. “I have the missing gowns memorized.”
Graham dangled a bulky sack through the opening. “Where do you want this?”
Sybil held out her arms. He dropped the contraband into them. She caught the lumpy sack and lowered it to the floor with care, then lifted out the topmost dress.
It was a match!
“We did it,” she breathed. “These are the dresses!”
“Not all of them are in sacks,” Graham called down.
“No sacks necessary.” Sybil clapped her hands together. “Heist Club, assemble the puzzle boxes!”
The reading circle dashed to their abandoned wooden panels and arranged themselves in their assigned formation, interlocking the pieces together exactly as Sybil had coached them. Soon, they formed two large, lightweight cedar trunks.
They placed the crates on the floor near the stairs and formed a tight queue, like the sort used by volunteers to put out fires. Instead of passing buckets of water, however, they passed the stolen dresses from the attic to the newly formed trunks, packing the gowns in tight before clicking the puzzle boxes closed.
Graham and Jacob dropped down from the attic and hurried to lift the trunks and carry them down the stairs.
Elizabeth closed the trap door with the tip of her sword, then returned the rapier to its deceptively innocuous housing.
She and the reading circle clattered down the steps after the receding men.
At the foot of the stairs, the group spilled out into the primary receiving area like bubbles exploding from a bottle of champagne. They frothed over and around each other toward the exit of the shop only to pull up short when a diminutive young woman with light blond hair and a shocked expression blocked their path.
“Anne,” Sybil exclaimed. “We’re just—”
“You! I should have known.” Anne’s voice trembled. “I took a hackney to Lady Eunice’s residence to inform Mlle. LaChapelle that the night crew had arrived, and do you know what I found?”
“Er,” said Sybil.
“Nothing! No one was there at all! Not Mlle. LaChapelle, and not even Lady Eunice!”
“The butler should have been there,” said Great-Aunt Wynchester. “Maybe they were all at home and didn’t want to let you in.”
“I could lose my post for this!” This time, Anne pointed her finger at Great-Aunt and Great-Uncle Wynchester. “These two never cease talking. It took an age to summon the Bow Street Runners because these doddering henwits never allowed me a moment’s peace.”
“You called the Runners?” Florentia said in horror.
“I sent a hackney driver.” Anne crossed her arms over her chest. “They’ll lock you all in gaol where you belong.”
“That’s not what you want at all. Come here, I’ll explain what’s happening.” Sybil backed up into the fitting area and motioned for the day assistant to join her.
