They gathered again for breakfast the following morning. Penny sat at the head of the table. Amity sat at the opposite end. Benedict, Logan and Declan were arranged at varying places in between. Amity noted that the three men had very nearly emptied the trays on the sideboard. The violent activities of recent days had certainly not put the gentlemen off their food, she thought.
“We have had the most wonderful news,” Penny announced with a flourish. “Mr. Galbraith, Amity’s publisher, is rushing her book into print. He says that all the publicity surrounding her will ensure excellent sales forA Lady’s Guide to Globetrotting.”
Benedict looked pleased. “Excellent news, indeed.”
Declan grinned. “Congratulations, Miss Doncaster.”
“I shall certainly purchase a copy,” Logan promised. “I hope you will sign it for me, Miss Doncaster?”
“With pleasure,” Amity said. “But tell me, what will happen to Humphrey Nash?”
“In an ideal world, Nash would stand trial on all manner of charges,” Logan said. “Conspiracy, treason and murder, among other things.”
Amity put down her teacup. “In an ideal world?”
“What the inspector means is that there is nothing more the police can do,” Benedict explained. “Nash is under arrest but he has made it clear that he is willing to make a bargain.”
“What sort of bargain?” Penny asked.
“He claims he has a great deal of information to sell,” Benedict explained. “And evidently Uncle Cornelius is in the market for that information.”
Penny was outraged. “Do you mean to say that Nash will walk away from this a free man? That’s unacceptable. He murdered both Mrs. Dunning and Lady Penhurst. He set a trap designed to murder Amity and Mr. Stanbridge. Who knows how many others he killed along the way?”
Logan put down his fork and picked up his coffee cup. “Cornelius Stanbridge has assured me that the Russians take a dim view of agents who sell their secrets to others. If Nash is released he will find it necessary to go into hiding. At the very least he will certainly be forced to take on a new identity.”
“Huh.” Benedict looked thoughtful. “If he assumes a new identity he will no longer be able to sell his photographs under his own name.”
“In which case he will be obliged to start his career over again,” Amity said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up somewhere in the West,” Declan mused. “We do seem to attract a wide variety of people who are looking for new lives.”
Amity smiled at him. “Speaking of the American West, what of your own plans, sir?”
Declan smiled. “Odd that you should ask. I have been doing a great deal of thinking about my future lately. I have concluded that I’m not cut out for the oil business. But I took a great deal of satisfaction assisting Inspector Logan and the rest of you in your search for the Bridegroom. I’m considering establishing a private investigation business, headquartered in San Francisco. Perhaps in time I will offer my consulting services to the police.”
“Excellent notion,” Logan said. “One thing I discovered in the course of this case is that there may be something to be said for the use of the science of psychology in solving crimes.”
Amity looked at Declan. “What about your father?”
Declan straightened his shoulders and assumed an air of resolve. “I am going to tell him that I do not intend to take an active role in the family business and that I will be setting up my own firm instead.”
Benedict looked at him across the width of the table. “If it’s any comfort you will not be going home empty-handed.”
Declan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s true that you did not manage to obtain Foxcroft’s notebook, but you can assure your father it doesn’t matter.”
Everyone looked at Benedict.
“Why doesn’t it matter that I failed?” Declan said.
“I had a long talk with Uncle Cornelius this morning,” Benedict said. “It turns out that the Russians are no longer interested in the potential of solar energy.”
“What on earth?” Amity exclaimed.
“There is even worse news,” Benedict said. “I have been informed that the Crown is no longer interested in solar energy, either. Even the French are abandoning that area of research.”
Logan frowned. “Canceled for lack of funding?”
