Page 23 of The Locked Room

‘I did not,’ Evans said firmly. ‘Mr Long and I thought it more likely they were on the take, pawning the tools and claiming they’d simply disappeared, even though they’d always been reliable lads up until then. But it got worse – we went in one morning to find everything gone.’

Oliver leaned forwards. ‘All of your equipment had vanished?’

‘Not vanished, exactly. Just moved around the house, as though someone was playing tricks on us.’ He shook his head. ‘The manservant insisted he and the maid had nothing to do with it and I couldn’t see why he would lie. The men got right jumpy after that – claiming the floorboards had suddenly started creaking, strange sounds coming from the walls, that kind of thing. One of my best lads lost his head completely and insisted the dining room was three feet smaller than it had been the week before. A few refused to work there at all. We had to recruit replacements, which set us back and delayed completion of the work.’ Licking his lips, Mr Evans sent a nervous grin across the desk. ‘But we got the job done and I’m sure your house won’t present any such peculiar complications.’

‘No, indeed not,’ Harry said, injecting the words with as much distaste as she could muster. ‘Tell me, did your men find any evidence of any tunnels beneath the house?’

The builder’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Tunnels? Whatever do you mean?’

‘Between the adjoining properties,’ Harry explained. ‘A friend told me she discovered something of that sort when she took on a house in Mayfair and found it to be infested with rats, and it turned out they were coming through the chimney from the house next door.’ She paused to offer a delicate shudder. ‘I cannot bear rats.’

Understanding dawned on the man’s face. ‘We checked the chimneys at Berkeley Square as part of the renovation – all were sound. We can do the same for you, Mrs Dimbleby. All part of the service.’

She nodded and aimed a covert glance at Oliver, who rubbed his hands together. ‘Most reassuring, Mr Evans, I can see why your services are recommended. I think we’ve heard enough.’

The other man glanced between them. ‘You’re leaving? But we haven’t discussed the details of your⁠—’

‘All in good time,’ Oliver said, jovially. ‘I’m afraid we have another appointment now, but if we decide to go ahead with the work, we will most certainly be in touch.’

Harry summoned up her most disarming smile. ‘Thank you so much for your honesty. Good day, sir.’

Neither she nor Oliver spoke again until they were standing on the pavement outside Critchley House. Oliver eyed her curiously. ‘Well, it was a very interesting meeting but I’m not sure we learned anything useful. What was all that nonsense about their tools? Are we meant to believe the place is haunted?’

‘I don’t know,’ Harry admitted. ‘But it’s not the first time I’ve heard of strange things happening in that house. I’m afraid it has rather a dark history.’

Crossing the road to Keeley Street, she repeated the gruesome tale Welcome Dobbs had shared with her.

‘So that’s how you knew about the coiners,’ Oliver exclaimed. ‘But I still don’t see how any of that relates to the theft of the diamond.’

They had reached Wild Street and paused to cross. ‘I’m not sure it has anything to do with it,’ she conceded. ‘But if Mr Evans’ men are to be believed then it seems obvious to me that something else was going on during the renovation of 50 Berkeley Square. The tools did not move themselves. Perhaps they were being put to other uses overnight.’

Oliver cocked his head. ‘Uses like digging a tunnel between houses?’

‘Possibly,’ Harry said, and frowned. ‘I don’t see how that was done without anyone at number 50 noticing, however. I wonder if Inspector Wells has made any progress in finding out where it leads.’

A car chugged past, leaving the road clear. Harry stepped off the pavement and was immediately jostled by someone. She felt a tug at the pocket of her coat and looked down to see a ragged girl at her side. ‘Sorry, missus,’ she mumbled, head down. ‘I slipped.’

She made to skip away but Harry was too quick. ‘Not so fast,’ she said, shooting out a hand to grip the girl’s bony wrist.

The child looked up in alarm and began to wriggle. ‘Get off! Get off me!’

Her fearful shriek almost made Harry let go, just as a memory surfaced in her mind. ‘Wait a minute, I’ve seen you before,’ she said, tightening her fingers. ‘A few nights ago, near the Garston Club. You were trying to work out how to pick my pocket.’

‘Wasn’t,’ the girl said defiantly, but the wriggling lessened and Harry thought her eyes were slightly less wary.

‘You were,’ she said. ‘I left a coin on the bench. Did you find it?’

With obvious reluctance, the girl shrugged. ‘Yeah.’

Oliver glowered at her. ‘And you decided to repay this generosity by picking her pocket again.’

This elicited another shrug. ‘Didn’t know it was her.’

Harry studied her thoughtfully. ‘I think you did. I think you realised I had money to spare and decided to help yourself to some more.’ She paused. ‘Unfortunately for you, the pocket you chose is empty.’

‘I know that,’ the girl snapped sullenly. ‘So you can’t hand me over to the police. I ain’t stole nothing.’

‘You tried,’ Oliver pointed out. ‘That’s illegal too.’