Kitty glanced up. “Is there possibly a period of servitude in your past, Max? You do that so well.”
“Be quiet.” He put a scone on a plate for her. “Here. What have you found?”
“Tea first please.” She noted his clenched teeth, and hid a chuckle. “Thank you.” It was good thing she didn’t take sugar in her tea. He might have choked her before she got her first sip.
“All right then.” She spread out the clippings around the china. “There is very little that is common to these announcements. But in these five here, and those two over there, there is one item that matches.” She leaned back. “The name of the carriage maker.”
Grace’s eyes widened and Max frowned in puzzlement.
He found his voice first. “The carriage-maker? Seven accidents to the same carriage maker?”
“Possibly eight,” answered Kitty. “Edmund finally ordered a carriage not long ago, so I learned a little bit about the business. Was yours ordered from Barker?”
“No,” he said.
“How about Rowley, Marshall and Cook?”
“My father had his made there, but no, I didn’t,” Max observed.
“Kanehall?”
He paused. “They’re new. Radical designs and some of them are outstanding. But there were rumours of pricing problems. So no, not them.”
Kitty nodded. “Could yours have come from Whetstone and Frank?”
“Yes.” Max sat down. “Yes. They’re a relatively new company. I liked what they offered and it was easy to turn it into something that was uniquely a Seton-Mowbray vehicle.” He paused, drumming his fingertips softly on the table. “Actually, it was Freddie Whitemarsh who recommended them. Said they were being quite innovative in the design of the body, and the interior was much more comfortable. Something to do with the springs…”
“Wait,” said Grace. “Isn’t Freddie Whitemarsh the son of Baron Stokingham?”
“Er, Ithinkso…” Max looked at her. “I wouldn’t want to wager on it, but I’m pretty sure they’re connected.”
Grace nodded. “I thought so.” She looked at the clippings. “Stokingham’s carriage broke a wheel two weeks ago. The notice is here somewhere. Her ladyship got a few bruises. Showed them off at some ball or other, and accidentally revealed more of her leg than was seemly. Goodness…you can’t imagine the outrage.”
Max’s eyebrow lifted. “The present Lady Stokingham was once in the theater. So to speak. She is probably quite used to revealing her legs—and more, if memory serves me.”
Kitty laughed. “Oh dear. All the high and low points of London tend to connect at odd moments, don’t they?”
“All right then.” Max finished his tea, popped the last of his scone in his mouth, and stood.
“Here it comes,” whispered Kitty, glancing at Grace. “I think we’re about to hear the Master’s plan of action.”
Grace giggled, and sat up straight, folding her hands in her lap. Kitty did the same.
“Not amusing, ladies. This is momentous.” Max began to pace. “Let’s review this situation.” He held up his hand, fingers splayed. “We have a series of carriage accidents, seven to be precise. Possibly eight.” One finger was pressed down. “We’ve established that seven of them involved the same maker.” Another finger was pressed down. “Now mine was the first to involve a death, but it was being driven out of London onto much poorer roads.” Down went the third finger. He looked at both Kitty and Grace, his face betraying his excitement. “I believe we now have a focus for our investigations.”
