Page 2 of The Trick of the Treasure
“Is Mr. Grey free?” Constance asked.
“No, ma’am,” Janey said, obedient to the unspoken instruction.
Constance smiled. “Be assured, sir, we consult and investigate each case together. It does not greatly matter which of us you speak to initially.”
She could tell from his fixed expression that it mattered a great deal to Mr. Lloyd. At least he did not get up and walk out, but as he graciously accepted a cup of tea from her, she suspected the gleam of admiration in his eyes had little to do with her abilities and all to do with the way she looked. Appearance was a double-edged weapon.
She drew her notebook toward her. Though she remembered every conversation in detail, it generally impressed clients if notes were taken. And, in truth, they sometimes helped her to see connections and patterns.
“How might we help you?” she asked.
He met her gaze consideringly, but did not answer at once. In the silence, she heard footsteps in the hall, the opening and closing of the front door.
Mr. Lloyd sipped his tea. “Mrs. Silver—”
She never discovered if he meant to reject her or not, for a brief knock on the door heralded the appearance of her partner.
Solomon Grey was a tall man, slender and elegantly dressed, and the sight of him affected Constance with more than usual disturbance. Under any circumstances, he had the kind of charismatic presence that drew the attention. As his newly affianced bride, Constance was tongue-tied.
Fortunately, he was not. “Ah. Good morning. My apologies for interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Constance managed calmly. “This is Mr. Lloyd, who was about to explain his business with us. Mr. Lloyd, my partner, Mr. Grey.”
Lloyd rose to shake hands, his glance friendly and yet definitely assessing.
What did he see? A gentleman of his own class? A servant yet to prove himself? Solomon could pass for a European or an African—unsurprising, since he had both in his parentage. To most of Constance’s acquaintance this made no difference, sparking mere, occasional curiosity. As a successful and wealthy shipping magnate, Solomon Grey had most of the world’s respect. But she had also come across a few people who were shocked, or even outraged, that a person of his descent should regard himself as a white man’s equal.
She was glad to see that Lloyd shook hands with perfect civility. Although he appeared to be the quintessential Englishman, his skin was not dissimilar in shade to Solomon’s.
Solomon brought up another chair and sat at the corner of the desk.
Mr. Lloyd lifted his cup from its saucer once more. “Someone has stolen my treasure,” he said. “And I have no idea how to find it.”
Carefully, Constance and Solomon did not look at each other.
“What kind of treasure?” she asked pleasantly.
“Oh, the usual kind. Gold, Spanish coins, jewels, antiquities. Some silver. I returned with it aboard my own ship, removed itto the strong room of my own home, and in the morning, it was gone.”
“Then presumably very few people had access to it? Who had keys to your strong room?”
“Only myself. I keep it with my other keys, locked inside the drawer at my bedside—which can of course be unlocked easily enough, but not without waking me. I am, of necessity, a light sleeper.”
Constance pounced. “What necessity?”
“Preserving my life, of course. I have slept in some very hair-raising places.” He smiled faintly from Constance to Solomon. “I should perhaps explain that I am something of an adventurer. To call myself an explorer is, perhaps, somewhat grandiose, though I have done my own modest share of that, too.”
“Your treasure is a result of this—er…adventuring?” Solomon asked.
“Indeed.”
“Over many years?” Constance asked.
“No, it was all one collection in its own chest, which I dug up on a small island off the east coast of Africa. No one lives there and it has never been named on the maps. I believe pirates buried it there some forty years ago.” He smiled. “I know. It sounds like a children’s story, but I assure you it is true.”
“Have you alerted the authorities to this theft?” Solomon asked delicately.
Lloyd appeared to understand at once. “Indeed. It was inspected by customs officials before I took it off the ship. And I reported the theft to the police yesterday. I gave them the same detailed description I will give you, should you decide to assist me, but they seemed to hold out little hope for the treasure’s discovery.”
