“Smart as well as talented, I commend you, sir. I don’t suppose you happen to know why Mr. Comfrey thought he might find money after all these years?” All lady-like grace with her brown curls capped in lace, Miss Leonard focused her feminine attention on the whelp, as if he were the only man in the room.
Flattery worked well. The canary continued to sing. “Can’t say for certain but heard he had a new wife. She prob’ly wanted baubles. When he came here for the bank, he heard the gossip. He ain’t never bothered to look our way afore.”
“And your other cousin, Mr. Percival? Was he looking for hidden treasure too?”
“Percy orter of known better. Pa said it was Percy’s ma what stole the coins, after they sent her brother to hang. All they had to do was ask me or Mort, we coulda told ’em. Mort said to let the useless sods fight it out, weren’t no skin off our noses. He didn’t want to get wrong with Percy.”
So both Comfrey and Percy had been hunting for the mortgage money once hidden in the old couch. As long as Tiny was talking, Rafe bit his tongue on questions, as did Hunt, who just gestured for Walker to keep scribbling. Grey leaned over as if to kiss Miss Leonard’s ear, but from the way she nodded, she was listening to what he was whispering.
“Percy knew about Mort’s art? Is that how Miss Talbot heard of him?” Miss Leonard asked, most likely speaking for Grey.
Tiny shrugged. “Mort heard about the gallery hisself. Percy said a fancy magazine sent him.”
“And Mr. Comfrey? How did he learn about Bradford House’s treasures?”
“Old rumors,” Tiny insisted impatiently. “Him and Percy squabbled over what belonged to them. Comfrey set locks, said anything inside belonged to the bank.”
Rafe clenched his fingers. Was this the argument that had ended in the banker’s death? He’d like to shake Tiny until he spewed the story.
He’d have to find out who the rest of Tiny’s brothers were and if they were any smarter than him and still playing pirate. Tiny could act as look out, but larger men had most likely stolen those machine parts. Comfrey and Percival wouldn’t know how to steal from boats.
“And you stayed above all the silly fighting to repair our roof,” Miss Leonard said in approval. “What happened next was none of your fault.”
Tiny nodded vigorously. “They was shouting about money when Comfrey shoved Percival, told him to scarper, that he had a wealthy baron coming to rent the place, and he wouldn’t let the likes of Percy ruin his chance of earning a tidy sum.”
That sounded genteel enough for Tiny to be parroting the argument nearly verbatim, a useful trick, like the geometry.
“Well, Mr. Comfrey was counting his chickens before they were hatched,” Miss Leonard said sympathetically. “Lord Greybourne isn’t foolish enough to pay a fortune for a place with a leaky roof. What happened after the tiresome banker shoved Percy?”
The prisoner hesitated, abruptly realizing he wasn’t just talking to a pretty lady. “I shouldn’t say.”
Rafe’s fingers itched to collar the scum, but that would accomplish naught.
“It will go better on Mort if you do,” Hunt offered, almost genially.
Tiny looked to Miss Leonard, who merely nodded in interest, as if he were telling a captivating tale.
“Mort weren’t there,” Tiny insisted. “He didn’t do nothin’. All I was doing was nailing tiles. We can’t help it if gentry gets in a fracas.”
Rafe rolled his eyes at the squealing toad’s excuses and tried to enjoy the show.
“Of course, you can’t,” Miss Leonard agreed soothingly. “You were paid to finish a task, and you do what you’re paid to do. You’re very handy with tools, aren’t you?”
He nodded proudly. “I’m not big, like Mort, but I’m smart. I can move crates from the river with pulleys. I knew what to do when Comfrey couldn’t get up.”
Ah well, then it was likely Tiny had hauled the stolen parts. Rafe would worry over that later.
“Mr. Comfrey fell and needed a physician?” Miss Leonard asked encouragingly. “And you knew how to move him?”
Tiny grimaced. “I didn’t have no cart. Percy was all scared of the blood and said he’d fetch one. But by the time he got back with that flatbed one, it was too late for a doctor, and the baron was on his way. So he gave me coins, told me to dump him in the river, and he ran. How was I to lift him without a ramp, I ask ya?”
“You couldn’t, of course, but you’re smart. What did you do next?” Miss Leonard clutched her hands in her lap, but her voice had a grim edge to it.
“I heard a carriage and didn’t have time to do more than shove the flatbed next door and grab the grapplin’ hook. I’d fixed the winch in the well, like Comfrey told me. So I hid him and figured I’d come back later.” He threw Greybourne a glare. “And then the gents showed up.”
Hunt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very clever. And you moved Miss Leonard onto the flatbed using the ramp you bought with Percy’s money?”
Tiny didn’t even have the sense to look wary. “It works right well for haulin’ canvases about. Ramp lets me move crates.”
