Paddy slapped his palm on the table, rattling their coffee cups. “Weel, boyos, it seems we must find dis Mr. Mason.”
Walters stood, running a hand through his black hair. “I’ll get on it right away. Care if I take Lynch?”
Paddy grinned. “Gettin’ him primed and ready, eh? He’s done well on the couple of outings you’ve sent him on.”
“What do you need from me?” asked Elijah.
“Keep that pretty lady safe,” said Gus, entering the dining room. They filled him in on the latest news. “If Mason works for The Vicar, then so did her father. Remember what happened to the Fergusons.”
Eli’s stomach dropped. The elder Ferguson had tried to leave The Vicar’s “fold,” but was unable to convince his son to do so. The son had hanged. Ferguson was found floating in the Thames, and his wife was “robbed” and killed shortly after. This was bigger than his fear of Ruby refusing to court him. He could lose her forever.
“Why don’t Eli and I get friendly in Miss Alberts’s neighborhood while Harry is in the rookery sniffing around,” Gus offered with a smirk at his brother. Harry had been raised in an orphanage until five, then sold to a brothel as an errand boy until Paddy found him.
“Nothing wrong with my roots,” said Walters cheerfully. “Made me the man I am today.”
“Sir Harry, indeed,” chirped Maggie, walking to her husband and planting a kiss on his cheek. Her cheeks were pink from an early morning scrub, her fading auburn hair gathered at her neck. “Who’d have thought we’d have a knight in our midst?”
Walters had been part of the investigation team that had uncovered the Cato Conspiracy. The Crown had knighted him for his service. This gave him just enough prestige to allow the Earl of Darby to grant Harry permission to marry his sister.
“Give me a hug, ye impudent boy,” Maggie scolded Harry. “How is sweet Mattie, and how was your honeymoon?”
“Excellent and excellent,” he answered, rising to envelop Maggie in his arms. “We arrived late yesterday, so I didn’t wake her.”
“Don’t forget our Sunday dinner next week,” Maggie said, this time planting a kiss on her son’s cheek.
Elijah gulped down the rest of his coffee, made plans to meet up with Gus, and left for Bow Street. Once he checked the Register, he went to Ruthven’s office.
“I wanted to report my progress, sir,” Eli said after knocking at the open door.
“Come in, come in,” Ruthven said, standing to shake Elijah’s hand. “Any progress on the jewelry thefts?”
Eli told him of his visits to all the jewelers along Hatton Garden. Only two more owners found a piece or set missing. “Wells sent word that he wanted to speak with me. I’m going there today. The three untouched shops had one difference—their keys were kept on their person. Gaining access inside would be relatively easy. It’s the locks on the iron chests that are hard to pick.”
“So that’s four out of the seven. And I know it’s customary to put away any items in the display case at the end of the day, so there wouldn’t be much for a thief to steal just by breaking into the shop,” said Ruthven. “Keep me informed, Norton.”
As he walked by the comte’s house, Eli wondered what Ruby was doing at that moment. A smile came unbidden, thinking of their kiss. How had love felled him so suddenly and without warning? For he did love her, he realized. He loved her.
The bell tinkled over his head when he entered Wells Jewelry. The short man with the frizzy gray hair waved from his office. “Back here,” he called.
Elijah joined him. “Something you’ve remembered? I hope it’s not more items stolen.”
“No, no. Very strange, though,” said Mr. Wells. “Do you see this piece?” He held out a diamond and emerald necklace with matching earbobs and two hairpins.
“Yes, very nice,” Eli acknowledged.
“It’s fake. But when I purchased it from a couple, these gems were authentic.” Mr. Wells stared at Eli in triumph.
“Do you know how it was switched?” This case got more and more interesting.
“No, but I keep detailed records, so I looked up who sold them to me.” He opened a ledger, ran his finger down one side, then stopped. “Lord and Lady MacBurns. I distinctly remember his strange accent. A cross between Scottish and… something else. They were dressed to the nines and wanted to order an expensive tiara. Said something about their daughter coming out next Season.”
Elijah took out his notebook and pencil. “Could you describe them?”
“He was medium height—taller than me, shorter than you—with dark hair and a bushy red beard. His wife was lovely, tall and slender. She wore a hat, but I believe her hair was light. Blonde or light-brown?”
“Would you mind if I took this with me as evidence?” he asked.
“No, it’s worthless to me. Let me get you a box.”
