“We don’t have it,” Mr. Defoe reiterated when his assistant closed the valise. “If you’ve lost it?—"
“It was stolen,” Oscar snapped. “Gavin left it on a table in his room, but it was gone when he woke up this morning. Aside from us, you are the only other person who knew we had it and also wanted it.”
“You can’t be certain of that. Perhaps Kinloch informed someone. Perhaps Kinloch himself stole it back.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked.
“To have both the money and the book.”
“He struck me as an honorable man.”
Mr. Defoe had answered me without looking at me, but now he managed to tear his attention away from Oscar. From the anger vibrating off him, I rather wished I’d stayed silent. “May I offer you some free advice, Professor? You shouldn’t trust a man on such a short acquaintance. It gives him the upper hand.”
His words were friendly on the surface, but the underlying tone rippled with anger. He now turned that anger onto Oscar.
“That book is valuable, Barratt. I’ve not found another and I’ve been searching for years.”
“We know that,” Oscar said through gritted teeth. “We also know you only wanted it for the reference to tattoo magic. Hence our conclusion that you are the one who likely stole it last night.”
Mr. Defoe pointed his finger in Oscar’s face. “You two should never have been given custodianship of such a valuable item. A journalist and an academic,” he spat. “I’d wager neither of you have ever wielded anything more dangerous than a pencil. You can’t protect yourselves, let alone an object in your possession.”
Oscar lunged, but Miss Wheeler was quick. She whacked his shin with her umbrella.
“Ow!” He hopped on one leg and rubbed his shin. “Was that necessary?”
Miss Wheeler stepped closer to Oscar while Mr. Defoe stepped back, content to let her take charge of the situation. It was most peculiar. While I’d seen Willie use physical violence, I’d always thought her rather unique among women. She dressed like a man, behaved like a man, and was raised by outlaws in America’s Wild West. Miss Wheeler, with her educated English accent, expensive clothes and pristine white gloves, was definitely not like Willie. Yet she made me feel rather vulnerable. I suspected she could beat me soundly with nothing but her umbrella.
Oscar didn’t seem quite so vulnerable, although he looked bewildered as he took her in anew.
“You’re rather easily riled, aren’t you, Mr. Barratt?” she asked, voice warm and velvety like a fine mulled wine.
“Defoe can say what he likes about me,” he shot back. “But not my friend.”
“You called him a thief. Did you expect him to let that slide?”
Oscar lifted his chin, not willing to retract his accusation.
I, however, had considerable doubts that we were right. Mr. Defoe seemed worried about the disappearance of the book. It could be an act, but if so he was a good actor. I was about to point out a fact that Oscar had missed, but Miss Wheeler did it first.
“Think about it, Mr. Barratt. Would we still be here if we stole the book? No. We would have left on the first train out of Edinburgh.”
“Someone stole that book, Miss Wheeler. It didn’t walk out on its own.”
“Then let’s work together and find out who took it, shall we?”
“We’ll report the theft to the police,” I told her. “There’s no need for your help with that.”
Neither she nor Oscar was listening to me. They didn’t even look at me.
“Why do you want to help us find it?” Oscar asked her. “We won’t be selling it to you once its safely back in our possession.”
“Because knowing who has it is better than not knowing. You said yourself, the book is going to form part of a library collection in London that will be open to the public. We are the public. Or will certain people be barred?”
“Of course not,” Oscar assured her. He glanced at me. “Do we trust them, Gavin?” By asking me, it meant he wanted to give in. I wondered if that had anything to do with the remarkable woman with the wine-dark voice and lovely brown eyes, who was rather handy with an umbrella.
“There’s no need for anyone’s help,” I said again. “We’re only going to the police station to report the theft. We don’t need anyone to accompany us.”
“We’ll go there soon,” Oscar told me. “We should find out what we can from the staff here first, then take that information to the police.” At my hesitation, he added, “We may as well be of use, and we are already here. Time is of the essence, Gavin.”
