“I may have made a few discreet enquiries when I received the cuttings,” Tiberius admitted.
“And what form have these overtures taken?” I asked.
“I have issued an invitation to both James and Pietro and their wives. I am holding a reunion of sorts at the end of this month at Cherboys. It is twenty years since Lorenzo’s death, and I wish to mark the occasion.”
Stoker’s interjection was frankly phrased and not suited to polite company, so I will not relate it verbatim. Suffice it to say that he expressed a healthy skepticism of Tiberius’ motivations.
I added my voice to Stoker’s in remonstrance. “Surely it cannot have escaped your attention that with the d’Ambrogio family gone, one of the other Sinners is the likeliest villain in this endeavour.”
“It did not,” he said silkily.
“You want to set yourself as bait,” Stoker accused.
Tiberius narrowed his gaze at his brother, but the eyes gleamed with something resembling respect. “And if I do?”
“Of all the pigheaded, utterly cotton-witted schemes,” Stoker began. Tiberius held up a hand.
“Please. It is late and we have travelled far. Abuse me tomorrow after I have had a good night’s sleep and a proper shave,” he said, rubbing a hand over his still immaculate chin.
“Stoker is correct, Tiberius,” I said mildly. “But so are you. If you believe these recent deaths are connected to Lorenzo’s, then gathering together those principally involved is a most efficient method of investigating.”
Stoker interjected again, launching into an eloquent tirade. Tiberius and I listened politely for several minutes until his lordship turned to me. “Do you mean to let him go on like this for much longer?”
“I have no very mechanical mind,” I explained, “but I do have a grasp of the basic principles of the steam engine. Once the heated vapour builds to dangerous levels, one must allow it to vent or the entire apparatus may explode.”
He nodded sagely. “Very wise.”
We carried on, sipping our brandy until Stoker lapsed into furious silence. I gave him a bright smile. “You are entirely in the right. Tiberius is willfully ignoring the danger inherent in this situation and I am fostering this reckless behaviour. It may, as you say, very well end in tears. But surely you will admit that it is safer for Tiberius to bring the battleto his own ground? He will have the advantage at Cherboys.” I paused and let Stoker absorb this before pushing the point gently home. “And you must also concede that if the others have not yet received a warning, it is the responsible—nay, the obligatory and honourable—course of action to alert them?”
Stoker opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. “He could send them a postcard,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“Indeed, but I hardly think such matters should be consigned to the vagaries of Her Majesty’s post. No, this requires a face-to-face meeting, a reunion of the parties involved. And with us there to protect him, what could possibly go wrong?”
Stoker groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “No,” he said, the voice muffled. “I refuse.” He lifted his head. “Veronica—”
“Stop,” I ordered. “This is the point at which you remind me that you have, in the course of our investigations, encountered mortal peril. You will complain of being stabbed, garrotted, shot—” I ticked the dangers off on my fingers. “Have I missed any?”
“Stripped naked, drugged, and stuffed into a trunk in preparation for being hurled into the sea and drowned,” he said coldly.
“But you were, in point of fact,notdrowned,” I returned with equal hauteur. “We escaped, as we have escaped every murderous plot against us.”
“I have also been chained—more than once,” he added.
“And here you are! None the worse for your adventures and with stories to tell the young folk when you are in your dotage,” I added briskly.
Tiberius waved me off. “Do not attempt to reason with him, Veronica. I know this mood of old. It requires bribery.”
Stoker snorted. “What could you possibly offer me that I want? Your silk underwear? The contents of your wine cellar?”
Tiberius, with the instinctive timing of a consummate hunter, paused before saying two words. “The Megalosaurus.”
Covetousness, we are told in the Bible, is a sin, but that did nothing to deter Stoker. His eyes kindled with an unholy greed. “The Megalosaurus?” he asked in a voice hoarse with lust.
Tiberius permitted himself a thin smile. “You may have it. It is not in perfect condition, but I will pay for the materials and you will return it to glory.”
“What Megalosaurus?” I asked.
For a long moment, neither brother seemed to hear me. Stoker was lost in a slack-jawed reverie whilst Tiberius was doubtless congratulating himself on a perfectly executed gambit. I cleared my throat and he turned my way.
