Page 60 of An Icy Christmas Engagement
Mr. Thatcher, to his credit, didn’t seem perturbed by the stony silence. He did, however, reach for his small pocket book again and flipped through it before saying, “Would you like for me to continue with my report or do you want more time to process what I just said?”
Cedric had to admire the gall of this man. Clearly he was used to being in the presence of powerful people and either knew how to handle himself or was not intimidated in the slightest.
It didn’t quell Cedric’s anger, however. “You have been investigating this for a while,” he said slowly, interlacing his fingers. “So pardon me if I am surprised to hear you say that you are no closer to figuring out who is behind all of this.”
“Whoever it is has covered their tracks very well,” Mr. Thatcher stated plainly. “I cannot deny that and it will take me a little more time. But that does not mean I do not have anything to report. I do in fact have,” he glanced at his pocket book, “one important thing to say.”
“How important could it be if it is the only thing you have learned after so many days?” Cedric growled.
Mr. Thatcher glanced back at his book. “Rather important, I would say.”
“Then by all means, good man, go ahead,” Harrison grumbled from his spot by the window.
Mr. Thatcher was unbothered by Harrison’s tone. He cleared his throat then began, “The perpetrator is wily and cunning and has proved capable of covering his tracks rather thoroughly. However, I have heard whispers that there is another attack due on your incoming shipment.”
Cedric lurched out of his chair. “What?” he roared.
Mr. Thatcher looked up at him then back at the book. He continued in the same bland tone as before. “This attack will becarried out once your ship arrives at the wharf tonight and should cost you thousands of pounds.”
Harrison stalked forward. “Where are you hearing these whispers?” he demanded to know.
“Someone, I assume one of the workers at the wharf, gave me the information. A few tankards of ale had loosened his tongue but he could not tell me who gave him the order nor did he know anything about the previous sabotage attempts. He is being paid to carry out a job and that’s all he knows or cares to know.”
“I need the name of the worker,” Cedric ordered. “And every bit of detail about this plan.”
“His name is Edward Humbridge. The ship is set to arrive close to midnight. It will be raided immediately as it docks and the goods will be carted off in the dead of night. There are a number of others who will provide the thieves easier access to the ship. Clearly a lot of people had been paid off.”
Cedric bit out a curse. He’d let his guard down for too long. He should have been patrolling, and should have been questioning everyone involved with his business. He should not have left this all in the hands of the private investigator.
“The good news is that we know about the plan,” Harrison said as if he could sense the direction of Cedric’s thoughts. “We’ll be able to stop it, if this information Mr. Thatcher received is true.”
“I deem it to be so,” Mr. Thatcher spoke up. “In my professional opinion, of course. Now, I shall take my leave. As you well know, there is still much work to be done.”
“You do not say,” Cedric snapped and Harrison sighed.
“Let us know if you learn anything else, Mr. Thatcher,” Harrison told him and the private investigator left without another word.
Cedric cursed again, his fury through the roof. It was one thing to learn that he was no closer to knowing who was behind the attacks. But now, to find out that there was another attack being planned right under his nose? The semblance of contentment he’d fallen under these past few days withered away instantly.
“It would be wise of us to pretend we do not know what is going to happen,” Harrison spoke.
Cedric nodded stiffly. “We should contact the authorities as well.”
Harrison sighed. “I suppose I should return home and rest. It is bound to be a long night.”
Cedric didn’t respond as Harrison took his leave. Once he was alone, he heaved a heavy sigh, sinking into the chair. The blissful haze he’d been under since last night’s ball was gone. It certainly didn’t help that there was still a letter from Ambrose sitting on his desk, reminding Cedric that he was still waiting for his response.
He couldn’t be here any longer. Cedric got up and stalked out of the office, grabbing his coat on the way out.
He headed straight for Grace’s residence and was happy to learn that she was not out when he arrived. Cedric found her in the drawing room enjoying her tea. Her only acknowledgement of his presence was a slight raise of her brows as he ambled over and sank into the chair across from her.
“All is descending into chaos,” Cedric declared as he sighed. “And I do not know what to do.”
Grace took her time in responding. She enjoyed a few more sips of her tea before she slowly set it on its saucer and leveled her eyes on Cedric. “Are you talking about the business or Lady Winterbourne?”
Cedric frowned, straightening. “Why would I be talking about Lady Winterbourne?”
Grace shrugged. “I do not know. What I do know is that you have scarcely been able to focus on anything else but those two topics. I thought it was a decent deduction.”
