Page 86 of The Trick of the Treasure
Audrey walked straight into the parlor, Tybalt at her heels. Constance lit a couple of candles from the lantern, which served to provide a bit more light.
“We need to move this sideboard,” Audrey said.
It was not a particularly large piece of furniture, and even full of what looked like Clarke’s mother’s best china, it was easy for Solomon and Tybalt to carry into the middle of the room.
Audrey stood staring at the floor. “How like Barnabas to miss what was right under his nose. But then, he never hid things as a child, you know. It wouldn’t have been fun for him unless everyone knew where his hiding place was and something else—preferably fear—kept them from looking.”
“Like the treasure chest,” Constance said. “On the night you came home.”
“His is not a likeable nature, is it?” Audrey said. “Once I thought all men were like that. But they aren’t.”
She knelt down on the dusty wooden floor and, using the key in her hand, pried up a loose floorboard. Tybalt took it from her, while she lifted up the one next to it. Solomon shined his lantern closer while Constance pressed in to his side. Four bundles, wrapped in oilcloth, lay in the cavities.
Without a word, Audrey reached in and, using both hands, lifted each of the bundles out, placing them on the floor beside her. Then, leaning further in, she reached beneath the still intact boards and drew out two larger, flatter parcels.
“Gold plates,” she said, lifting them one at a time. “I think that is all, but you can check if you like. Open them.”
With some awe, Constance and Tybalt knelt and unwrapped the parcels. The lantern light glinted on gold, on tarnishedsilver and jewels that glittered like fire. Huge, solid-gold plates, ornate candlesticks, necklaces, chains, exquisite figurines in gold, antique coins, and unset precious stones.
“Joshua would have meant to put in in bags at the last moment,” Audrey said. “Barnabas didn’t even give him time to bring them downstairs. If he shot Joshua in the hall, he didn’t wait to ask him first where he had put the treasure. It wouldn’t enter his head that Joshua would have had the gumption to hide it.”
“Why did no one hear the shot?” Solomon asked. “Why did no one respond?”
“Feathers,” Constance said suddenly. “There were feathers in the hall when I found the body. They’re still there. Mr. Clarke was shot through a pillow, or a cushion. Perhaps two. The noise would still have been heard, but it would have been muffled, less startling or concerning.”
Solomon regarded her with fascination. How did she know these things?
She met his gaze. “We had a client once who killed people for money.”
He didn’t know whether or not to believe her. She might have been warning him—yet again—of the unsavory nature of her past. Or winding him up. Worrying and yet curiously exciting that there were still parts of her he did not know and perhaps never would…
Tybalt sat back on his heels. “You really mean to give all of this to Barnabas Lloyd?”
“He employed us to find it,” Solomon said. “And according to the law, it is his.”
“Is it?” Tybalt asked. “Only because he found it and dug it up. Did we not just do the same?”
“Not entirely,” Solomon said dryly. “Miss Lloyd stole it from her brother.”
“Properly speaking, Clarke stole it. There is no proof, beyond her own grief-stricken words, that she was involved at all.”
“Except that she clearly knew exactly where to find it,” Constance pointed out. “What exactly is it you are trying to persuade us to do?”
“Let her choose a few pieces to keep,” Tybalt said. “He owes her that for years of misery. But he never needs to know.”
“I would know,” Audrey said. “It’s not the same anymore. I won’t draw the rest of you into my theft. Mine and Joshua’s.” She touched a ring of diamonds and sapphires, and let her fingers trail back over the coins beside it. “We should just have gone the night he came home. If we had, Joshua would still be alive…”
“Perhaps Lloyd would always have found you,” Tybalt said. “Wherever you went.”
Audrey stood up. “Would anyone like a cup of tea?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m parched,” Constance said. “Let me help you.”
Solomon’s lips twitched, but he saw the sense of it. They needed to make plans. And Constance needed a rest.
Tybalt went out and came back with milk and fresh bread. They all sat around Clarke’s parlor table, drinking his tea and eating fresh bread and Audrey’s home-made jam from the cupboard.
Which was how Inspector Harris of Scotland Yard found them when he walked into the room shortly afterward and groaned.
