“You were following this man.” Max jutted his chin at Pinkerton. “And you’re pretending to be in your cups. That leads me to believe you were up to no good.”
“Let me roll over, and I can prove it.” The man clasped his thin hands together on the dirt above his head, as though praying. “Just let me show you.”
Max glanced up. His friend reached into an inside pocket, letting his hand rest on the butt of the gun Max knew he kept there. Dunkeld nodded.
Rolling to a crouch, Max released the pressure on the man’s back.
Slowly, like a rat struggling through mud, the man rolled to his side and sat up. Keeping his eyes on Max, he flicked open one side of his coat. Row after row of handmade pockets had been sewn into the lining, most of them bulging with watches, coin, and jewelry.
Max sat back on his heels and cursed. The man was a bloody thief.
“I saw this chap spending freely and didn’t think he’d mind if I relieved him of some of his blunt.” The thief opened the other side of his coat, showing even more pockets. “But I don’t hurt people. They don’t even know I’ve lifted anything until they get home.”
Perfect. They’d been trying to chum the waters for a shark and instead they’d attracted a guppy. Just to be certain, Max patted the man down, finding a diamond-studded cravat pin and a fine lady’s bracelet but no weapon of any kind.
He stood and stretched his back. “I think today is a bust.”
Bending, Dunkeld grabbed the thief by his collar and heaved him to his feet. He pointed down the street, and the man took off without a question.
“Wait.” The baguette slipped under Pinkerton’s arm, and he hefted it higher. “You’re just going to let him go? He was going to try to rob me.”
“And we’re not bloody Bow Street.” Max turned to his friend. “If anyone else was following him, they’re not now. Let’s call it a day.”
Dunkeld nodded agreement. He jerked his head at Pinkerton. “What about him?”
“It’s not my day to watch him. That’s a fight between you and Summerset.”
“Fine,” the Scotsman grumbled. Lifting a hand, he hailed a hackney. “I’ll take him to my place. Try again tomorrow?”
Max nodded and climbed into the phaeton. He watched his friend grab Pinkerton’s baguette and rip off the end before tossing the loaf back to the American. Pinkerton juggled the bread and his satchels before dropping everything. Dunkeld hollered for Pinkerton to get his arse in the hackney, and Max smiled. The first genuine one of the day.
Turning the chaise around, Max headed back to The Black Rose. He’d let one of his footman return the contraption. Max wanted to see Colleen. Wanted to see if she looked at him with disgust or hate or …. No. Those could be the only two options.
Without Dunkeld weighing them down, Max and the horse made it to the club in good time. Max tossed the reins to the footman and gave the beast a good shoulder rub. “Find a treat for the animal and then return it and the phaeton to Haworts on Mayweather.”
The footman nodded, and Max climbed the steps and entered his club. He went to give the man at the door his hat and realized it no longer perched on his head. He must have lost it during the scuffle. Finger-combing his wild hair as best he could, he looked for his manager.
And didn’t find her. “Lucy.” He waved the girl over. “Do you know where Mrs. Bonner is?”
The blonde gathered her silk robe tightly about her. “She had an errand to run. Didn’t you get the note she sent to your home?”
“I haven’t been home.” Max narrowed his eyes. “What errand?”
She sucked her plump bottom lip into her mouth and let it out with a pop. “She got a letter and left. How am I to know where she went. She’s my employer; I don’t question her.”
“Technically speaking, I am your employer.” Something about the way the girl wouldn’t look him in the eye set Max on edge. She knew more than she let on. “And if you would like to keep your employment here, I’d suggest that you tell me what you know.”
Lucy examined her cuticles. “I only saw the letter because Mrs. Bonner has been asking me to help her out more and more. You know, like an assistant.”
Sweat gathered at the small of his back, and his fingers itched to shake the words out of the chit’s mouth at a faster pace. But he knew when to show restraint. Besides, Colleen had probably gone to visit her cousin, or the flower shop. No reason to be concerned.
“Yes, she’s mentioned how helpful you’ve been.” Max kept his voice friendly. “What was in the letter?”
“A request that she meet someone at St. Katherine’s church.” The girl chewed on her bottom lip. “It wasn’t a friendly request, at that.”
“And she went?” Max’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “Alone? The damn fool woman didn’t take a footman with her at least?”
Lucy furrowed her brow. “Well, she first asked for Bob, but he hadn’t come in yet. Rufus said he had to wait for the wine delivery. Sam has been feeling poorly and is still out back in the—”
