Page 76 of The Duke and Lady Scandal
“Thank you.” Allie scooped up the bottle and headed back to Princes.
Another wave of dread washed over her when she could see Mr. Gibson pacing near the front door as she stepped inside.
“What is it?”
“A mystery, that’s what it is.” He looked as fretful as she’d ever seen him, his brows drawn in a single line and a patina of sweat glistening on his forehead. “I’ve searched through everything in my workroom. There were some small bits left out. A gold watch chain I’ve been working to repair. An ormolu clock I’ve fixed for Lord Corning.”
“Oh no—”
“No, no, none of that was taken.”
“Then what was?”
He shook his head and when he looked at her again, his eyes had gone bleak, almost haunted.
“I can’t explain it, Miss Prince. The safe door seemed to be intact, so like you, I assumed it had not been cracked, only bashed a bit. But the door is indeed broken. Removed at some point, I’d say, but then put back in place to make it seem unbroken.”
“What’s missing?” Allie swallowed hard. They had valuable art, some porcelain that would fetch a pretty price at auction, but the most expensive items Princes carried were the gems and jewelry pieces.
“Lord Holcroft’s diamond is missing as well as two smaller sapphires I was to set for Lady Dalrymple,” he finally said, then lifted both hands to his head. “I thought the safe was secure. We purchased the best on the market.”
Allie approached and dared to lay a hand gently on his arm. “I trusted that it was too. You’re scrupulous and always have been.”
“Why did they replace the door? And why didn’t they take all the gems out of the safe?”
“I don’t know.”
“We should send for a constable.” He lowered his hands and started for the front door. “I’ll fetch a messenger.”
Allie took the bottle of cream into the back room, found a teacup saucer, and poured a bit in.Everything in her yearned to begin tidying the room, but she suspected the police would wish to see it as it was. She also didn’t want to create so much noise that she put a nervous Grendel off from finally coming out. So she set the dish on the floor and headed back to the front of the shop.
Mr. Gibson was nowhere in sight, but she hoped he hadn’t had to go far to find a messenger. There was a foot patrolman who came through at least once in the morning and afternoon, so they could speak to him if necessary.
She checked the locked money box under the counter. Though there was no evidence of ransacking among the displays, paranoia had overtaken her thoughts now, and she felt as if she should check everything twice.
A knock on the front door made her jump, and she turned to find a gentleman standing on the other side. He watched her with a questioning tilt to his brow.
Neither of them had put out the OPEN sign, but the door was unlocked, so Allie waved the stranger inside.
“Hello, miss,” he said immediately, then removed his hat and clutched it in his gloved hands. “You don’t know me—”
“No, I don’t.” Allie couldn’t help the new distrustful tone in her voice. “Who are you?”
“Arthur Fitzroy, miss. I’m a colleague of Inspector Drake’s, who I think you know.” His eyes lightened a fraction, and he took another step forward. “I overheard you speaking to the proprietress next door, and I believe I may be of some assistance to you.”
“Are you a detective too?”
“I am.” He smiled as if to offer reassurance, though there was a bit of charm in it too. “Though a private one. I don’t work for the Metropolitan Police.”
“I see.”
He lifted the hand still holding his hat and waved it to encompass the shop. “You’ve had a break-in?” After the question was out, he scanned the displays and crowded furnishings and walls dappled with art. He looked utterly confused.
“In the back of the shop. Not up here, or at least as far as I can tell.”
Mr. Gibson returned at that moment, chafing his hands, and casting a wary gaze at Mr. Fitzroy. “Found a messenger. We should have a constable with us soon.”
“This is Mr. Fitzroy,” Allie explained. “He’s a private detective and knows Inspector Drake.”
