Page 86 of The Gift of Patience
She wrote down everything as he instructed and the various numbers and a list of four pairs of letters became apparent. “They could be initials.”
“It’s the numbers I can’t make sense of.” He stood and looked over her shoulder at what she had written.
“It’s almost like a code within a code. Surely Rupert was not that clever.”
“Since they gambled together, could those numbers simply be sums of money? Perhaps earnings or debts? Or even amounts made in their scheme?”
“Indeed, it could be that, but is it enough to implicate anyone in anything? We need something to tie them to the shipments.”
“Do you recognize any other initials?”
“No, but Ashley or one of the others probably would. I don’t think we have enough information worth the risk of riding this out to them tonight.”
“Unfortunately not,” she agreed.
“If you want to continue trying to make sense of it, be my guest.” He showed her his pattern, then left to make preparations for sitting watch.
Patience knew there had to be something there, but her eyes were beginning to cross from looking at letters and numbers so long. They had only as yet deciphered two pages, and there were probably a dozen or so more left.
She rose from the chair, stretched, then went to see if Grace had managed to draw anything useful.
“There you are,” Grace remarked when Patience found her in their sitting room. “I’ve made an attempt, but I have no idea if it will be helpful.” She handed Patience her drawing pad with the page opened.
It was an excellent drawing, and one that was well enough it could be sold in a shop window.
The picture was the full scene—a man in the shadows of a wooden roof overhang with a top hat pulled low, only the lower half of his face protruding from beneath the shadows, a cigar hanging from his lips. He wore a long caped driving coat, and both hands crossed atop a walking stick that did indeed look like a snake’s head, the tail forming into an ‘s’ shape. A large signet ring with a dark oval centre sat on his pinkie finger.
“It is quite good,” Patience remarked. “Perhaps one of the men will recognize him.”
“Billy says it is a perfect likeness,” Joy added. Grace would never have said as much.
“I need to take this.”
Of course, Grace agreed. Patience gently removed the drawing and thanked her sister before returning to the study. As she returned to her work on the journal, something began to nag at her.
There were dates next to each notation and various numbers listed next to the pair of letters. If those numbers indicated money, then there was a lifetime’s fortune listed next to each of the initials. Why wasn’t there any listed for Rupert?
Patience flipped through each of the other pages, and there were a few blank ones before the notations seemed to begin backwards from the other side of the small journal. There were no initials listed there, only dates and numbers. Could those be Rupert’s own profits or debts?
If this was money he’d won or lost from the other men, then it might be some sort of evidence. Perhaps Carew might recognize the pattern as he’d been a gamester. If it was even related to that.
Argh! She wanted to pull her hair in frustration. Why could Rupert not have left something more substantial?
Much though she wanted to figure it all out on her own, time was of the essence. Carew was somewhere on the estate, most likely with his horses.
As she trudged towards the stables, never in a thousand years would Patience have guessed how much work went into solving these mysteries. As soon as she found one piece of information, it raised several other questions. It felt like a maze with no centre or escape.
Carew was in the paddock with some colts, dressed in his shirt sleeves, buckskin breeches, and old Hessians. He was glistening with sweat and looked like a stable hand. Patience could certainly understand her sister’s attraction. She onlyhoped Grace would not have her heart broken. Carew seemed as untamed and elusive as the colts he was now working with.
When he saw her approaching, he stopped and walked towards the fence. “Is it time?”
Patience cocked her head. “Time for what?”
“I thought you were sent to fetch me. Westwood asked me to assist him this evening.”
“That, I cannot speak to. I was hoping you could help me with something else.”
The light was beginning to fade, but she pulled out the journal and could just make out the letters and numbers.
