“With luck, no,” Benedict said. “My brother is a very good architect. He possesses a great deal of talent when it comes to drawing. The plans he produces for Stanbridge & Company are works of art.”
“Oh, I see.” Amity beetled her brows. “Do you mean to say that you forged some pages of the notebook?”
Benedict smiled approvingly.
“Foxcoft kept his notes in a binder. We simply removed the important pages and inserted new ones.” Benedict looked at Cornelius. “I told you that she is very sharp.”
Cornelius chuckled and then winced in pain and gingerly touched his head. “I believe you.”
Benedict turned back to Amity. “Between the two of us, Richard and I were able to forge two pages of specifications and notes for Foxcroft’s engine. We used some of the unused pages in the binder.”
Amity caught her breath. “That was a very clever plan.”
Cornelius snorted. “Ben always has a plan.”
“I thought it best to take the added precautions because Uncle Cornelius believes that there is a well-placed traitor involved in this affair,” Benedict said.
“Obviously you are right,” Amity said.
Out of curiosity, she moved closer to the safe and leaned down to peer into the dark interior. The only thing left inside was an envelope.
“My plan did not involve you being injured in the process,” Benedict said to Cornelius. “I assumed that if someone made an attempt to steal the notebook it would happen when you and Palmer were away from home.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Ben,” Cornelius said. “The important thing is that you predicted that someone might try to steal the notebook and you were correct. Whoever our spy is, we now know for certain that he possesses considerable talent for his profession. The lock on that safe is the most modern model available.”
Amity looked over her shoulder at Cornelius. “How do you plan to catch the thief?”
“You misunderstand, Miss Doncaster. I have no intention of arresting the spy. I merely wish to identify him. Once I know who he is, I can make use of him.”
“By feeding him false information to give to the Russians,” Benedict explained.
“Well, that makes sense, I suppose,” Amity said. “But how will you identify him?”
“I have a short list of suspects, Miss Doncaster,” Cornelius said, his voice turning grim. “They are all being watched very closely at the moment. When one of them makes a move to give the notebook to the Russians, I will know about it.”
Benedict studied him. “What if you are watching the wrong people? You told me that none of your suspects was absent from London at the time I was shot on St. Clare.”
Cornelius fumbled with his spectacles and squinted at Amity. “I am hoping that Miss Doncaster will be able to assist me in that regard. But I am not at my best at the moment. I can’t even recall all the questions I had intended to ask you, my dear. The interview must wait until I can think more clearly.”
“I will be happy to tell you what little I know whenever you are ready, sir,” Amity said. “But what of the letter inside the safe?”
Cornelius scowled. “I never put any letter in there.”
Amity removed the envelope from the safe, straightened and studied the name on the front. “It is addressed to you, sir.”
“Let me see that,” Cornelius snapped.
Amity handed the letter to him. “I suspect that your safecracker left you a message.”
Cornelius yanked the letter out of the envelope and peered at it for a moment. “Damn and blast, I can’t read a thing. My vision is somewhat blurred and my head hurts.” He thrust the letter toward Benedict. “Read it, Ben.”
Benedict unfolded the single sheet of paper and read it in silence. He looked up.
“It appears our burglar is not particularly loyal to any government,” Benedict said. “He has his own best interests at heart. He’s looking to turn a profit on this night’s work.”
“How?” Amity asked.
Benedict tapped the letter. “He states that he is willing to sell it back to us. For a price.”
