Page 94 of My Kind of Scoundel
“Wait,” she said, gathering her strength. “Don’t go to the bridge.” She paused to catch her breath. “They’re meeting at Mr Walker’s apothecary. Geoffrey has a key.”
Gibbs confirmed the possibility. “Walker is in Oxford visiting his supplier. He said he’ll be away for two days.”
They tried to remain calm while devising another plan.
“You can access Mr Walker’s yard via William Street,” Eleanor said, jumping to her feet. “It’s why we saw Mr Franklin head south towards the river.”
“Then there’s no time to lose.” Aaron instructed Gibbs to alert Daventry and then return to deal with matters at the silversmith’s.
“How shall we proceed?” Eleanor asked as they hurried downstairs.
“We’ll enter via the yard.” Theo grabbed a silver candlestick as they raced through the shop. He’d club Wrotham to prevent him from escaping.
Aaron cursed. “We need someone impartial to witness the exchange. We’re biased. A magistrate might believe we invented the tale.”
“Miss Franklin and Lucille Bowman will testify.” Theo gripped Aaron’s arm to calm his brother’s temper. “Trust me. Fate is on our side.”
From William Street, they ventured into the dim alley, and Eleanor directed them into Mr Walker’s yard. The fog acted as a veil, and the array of wooden drying sheds gave them plenty of places to hide. The back door stoodominously open, and the sound of irate voices was carried on the cool night air.
“You’re the one who dragged me into this mess,” Franklin said with a sense of desperation. “Anna is far too inquisitive. I should have known she would discover the secret eventually.”
“No one can prove a thing.” Wrotham’s voice dripped with arrogance. “My aunt is currently enjoying the hospitality of the Plume of Feathers in Edgware and will visit Birmingham tomorrow with our current consignment. The remaining plates will be dispatched next week, marking the end of our association.”
His aunt?
Theo glanced at Aaron and grinned. Finding Mrs Dunwoody with forged plates would be the cherry on the cake.
Franklin breathed a long sigh. “What about Lady Lucille? Anna said she knows you’re a crook.”
“All peers are crooks.” Wrotham’s mocking laugh grated. “Don’t worry about Lucille. The chit’s father adores me. He wants his daughter to be the next Countess of Berridge. Lucille won’t say a word. Besides, she delivered the plates and would be considered an accessory.”
Theo felt a surge of unease.
Wrotham was right. Lady Lucille had no choice but to bow to his wishes if he escaped unpunished. Wrotham knew he could get away with murder.
“How do you know you can trust your aunt?” Franklin sounded anxious. Anxious and unpredictable. “How do I know I can trust either of you? We agreed I’d make one plate, but you blackmailed me to make more. When will it end?”
“Soon,” Wrotham reassured him. “I need you to make another pouch of those pretty sovereigns, and we?—”
“No! I’ve already risked my damn neck.”
Aaron nudged Theo, his frustration palpable. “Where the hell is Daventry? We need him to catch Wrotham in the act.”
Theo shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
“Don’t press me on the matter, Franklin.” Wrotham was like a master puppeteer, using his status to pull the silversmith’s strings. “No one can trace the plates back to us. I used an alias.”
Delusions of grandeur had affected Wrotham’s rationale.
Clearly, he had never encountered an inspector from the bank.
“If you’re caught passing the coins, there’ll be an investigation,” Franklin countered. “And what about your valet? He only has to mention his connections in Birmingham and we’re done for.”
“Don’t worry about my valet. He will be the victim of a terrible attack in the rookeries tomorrow night.”
Wrotham was not a spineless fool after all.
Wickedness was in his blood.
