“Ah.” I sank down, easing my sore knee. “I had suspected something of the sort. But you were really keeping them from Madame Jourdain and Madame Martin.”
A nod. “Madame Jourdain had become too interested in what we’d collected. Gallo was the one who’d suggested the townhouse in the Presqu’île—he said because its housekeeper would let him in to see me when the comte wasn’t there. She was Madame Jourdain’s sister and would understand. It was not difficult for me to persuade the comte to let me live there.”
The comte had been so infatuated with Signora Ruggeri at that point, that he’d have given her anything she asked.
“But you became suspicious of Madame Martin?”
“Almost at once. I had taken the ledger we used to tot up the figures of those who’d paid. I’d hidden it in the parlor where I met those who called to hand over their money, but I found Madame Martin leafing through it one day. She at first scolded me for my sordidness then offered to assist in our venture. For a share of the profit, of course. Eventually, she began to threaten me. She told me she’d have her sister find the papers Vincenzo had hidden in the La Guillotière house and simply take over our business if I did not capitulate.”
“Then you convinced the comte to move you yet again.”
“I did. I know I incurred the wrath of everyone in Lyon, but I was less afraid of them than Madame Martin. I didn’t dare sleep at night when she stayed in the house, and I was highly nervous. Once I settled into the villa, I went back to La Guillotière, waited until everyone was out, then crept in and took the papers.”
“But you left the ledger behind in the townhouse.”
Signora Ruggeri shook her head. “There were too many servants packing up my things when I left for me to fetch the ledger. I’d hoped to return to the house when Madame Martin was out, but I had no opportunity. The day I tried, a mob waylaid me in the square.” She shivered.
“I recall.” So, I had been correct that she’d been to the townhouse that morning, though I’d been slightly wrong about the reason.
“I stored Gallo’s papers for a time at the villa,” Signora Ruggeri continued. “But I was still afraid. One of the maids at the villa said she was cousin to Madame Martin and Madame Jourdain. She dropped the remark in an offhand way, and she might have simply been passing the time of day, but I feared she meant to aid them. So, I needed a better hiding place.”
My eyes widened as I thought through all the places she could have deposited them. “Do not tell me you took them to the comtesse’s chateau.”
Another nod, but this time a smile danced on Signora Ruggeri’s lips. “No one would ever gain entry there without the comtesse’s permission. It was a bold plan, I know, but I felt I had no choice. The comte had told me with pride about the old house and the tunnels beneath. I went around the back of the chateau while all the comtesse’s guests were pouring in the front and hid the box.”
“And then kicked up a row at the front door, demanding the comte admit you,” I said, “I was there that night. It was quite a performance.”
Signora Ruggeri flushed. “My plan was for the comte to let me in, if only to make me be quiet. Then I would slip down to the tunnels, retrieve the box, hide it, then pretend to retreat to my own house in shame.” She sighed. “But the comte was not at home, and the comtesse, to my amazement, took me in. She was kind to me, and the kindness was not feigned.” Signora Ruggeri’s voice held respect. “I’ve never met a woman like her. The comte does not deserve her.” She finished with conviction.
“I agree with you. Were you able to retrieve the box from the tunnels?”
“I did. I took it to the dressing room of the bedchamber given me. They supposed I’d slept late—an indolent woman—but really I was thoroughly hiding the papers.”
“The only paper you did not have was the Italian letter you stole from the comte.”
Signora Ruggeri smiled again. “You know much, Captain. Vincenzo had hidden that so well I could not find it. I assumed he’d let me have it when I negotiated a good price from the comte.”
“You also gave Gallo the name of Lucien Potier.”
Her smile vanished. “Yes, but I soon learned that even saying the name earned one censure and even threats. We never did discover why.”
“The man was more hated even than you and Gallo,” I said, but I gentled my voice. “Wise of you to not pursue that avenue.”
“I believe so,” Signora Ruggeri agreed. Tears moistened her eyes. “I was dazed when I heard that Vincenzo had been killed. I hadn’t loved him in a long while—we were partners in business only once we arrived in Lyon—but I’d known him for years, and at one time, we’d been very close.”
“Madame Jourdain has confessed to Vernet that she murdered him,” I said.
“So I have learned.” Signora Ruggeri heaved a heavier sigh. “She came after him that night, she told me, believing that he knew where I’d taken the papers. According to her, Vincenzo claimed—rightly—that he had no idea where the letters had gone, and wouldn’t tell her even when he was dying. She simply left him there and stamped home. She was a madwoman, and her sister wasn’t much better.”
I nodded. “Madame Jourdain struck down Madame Martin as well.”
“Yes, it was terrifying. The two of them were going to make me tell them where the papers were, but then they got into a quarrel as to who would take the lion’s share of the profits. I tried to get away while they were fighting, but Madame Jourdain caught me. She took me to that boat …” True fear entered her voice. “She planned to take me downriver where she could kill me if I wouldn’t tell her. She’d have killed me anyway.” She shuddered. “I can only thank you once more, Captain.”
“You can reward me for my valor by letting me have those papers,” I said pointedly.
“I brought them.” Signora Ruggeri regarded me tiredly. “I went to the comtesse, told her everything, and asked for them. She offered to burn the lot herself, but I didn’t trust that someone in her house wouldn’t try to make use of them. I trust you, Captain, to release the people we held in thrall. I am ashamed, but when one is desperate, one so easily resorts to villainy.”
Her entreaty, made while she gazed intensely at me with liquid brown eyes, helped me understand how she’d ensnared the comte, Gallo, and any other man who’d crossed her path. My heart wanted to warm with her flattery, but my common sense reminded me that she was indeed a gifted actress.
