Page 33 of The Trick of the Treasure
“Or because he knew Devine’s casual arrival would annoy his father. It’s all speculation. We have no evidence of any of it.”
Janey returned then, with some warm, thick soup and bread from the public house down the road. The three of them ate together, continuing to discuss the Lloyds’ case and Bibby’s, after which Janey, who had bolted through her meal, ran off with a list of questions for her friend.
“She won’t get herself into trouble, will she?” Solomon said with sudden unease. “Asking questions of the wrong people in the wrong places?”
“Janey can take care of herself. Her tongue alone can blister most ruffians at twenty yards. And to be honest, a trinket of no value is really not going to ruffle many feathers. What should we do next? Find out about the back door?”
“I think so,” Solomon replied. “We’ll try the servants rather than land Jemimah in the soup with her parents. And then we could call on these rogue collectors.”
Her gaze fell back to the photographs. “Who are all the other people here? Lloyd’s sailors?”
“I presume so.”
“Most of them are looking at the camera, as though it’s more fascinating than the treasure.”
On impulse, Solomon rose and fetched the magnifying glass from his desk drawer. Although he offered it to Constance, she passed him back the photograph and he inspected the treasure more closely. The coin at the top of the chest sharpened, as did the shape of something like a candlestick with a jeweled necklace wrapped around it. As far as he could tell from the angle of the photograph, the chest was pretty full.
He shifted the glass upward to Lloyd’s face. Due to the length of time subjects had to remain still before the camera, most expressions tended to be a trifle wooden. Lloyd, however, looked entirely satisfied. His teeth showed in his smile, and his eyes looked bright with excitement.
Solomon moved the glass to Sydney, whose excitement might have been tempered with cynicism. Or surprise. It was difficult to tell. Gradually, he moved the glass across the other faces, those in front, and then the two at the back, lurking behind Lloyd.
And the whole world seemed to halt.
*
Constance, watching Solomonwith something like wonder—as she often did when she thought he wasn’t looking—saw the instant of change.
“Solomon? What do you see?”
He set down the magnifying glass and turned away. “Excuse me. I need to wash my hands before we go out.”
He walked across the room with his usual, unconscious grace, not in any particular hurry, and yet she knew something was wrong. As she reached for the photograph, she was distracted by the postman passing the window, and went to collect the lunchtime post.
By the time she had cast aside a couple of tradesmen’s accounts and opened a letter from a lady who had lost her cat, Solomon returned to the room with his hat and coat on.
“Are you ready to go?”
She jumped up, dropping the letter into his hands. “Just the case to make our fortune. Give me a minute.”
Since they had a few calls to make, they again made use of her carriage. Whatever had annoyed or upset Solomon, she decided to wait for him to tell her. He did not. On the other hand, he appeared to be back to his usual self, talking about the current case—and the cat—with his usual mixture of insight and wit.
They alighted once more at the Lloyds’ house, but this time descended the area steps to the tradesmen’s entrance.
The kitchen maid Rosie answered their knock. Although her eyes widened with alarm, she let them in without fuss.
“We’re looking for Garrick,” Solomon said briskly.
“In his pantry, sir. I’ll take you.”
She led them through the kitchen, past the servants’ hall to another room near the baize door that led to the family’s part of the house. She knocked timidly and opened the door.
“Mrs. Silver and Mr. Grey to see you, Mr. Garrick,” she said in a rush, and fled.
Garrick was already on his feet. Constance thought he would have liked to sit back down again to show his contempt but didn’t quite dare.
“Yes?” he said wearily.
“You stated that you locked and bolted all the doors the night of the theft,” Solomon said without preamble. “And unlocked them at seven o’clock the following morning. Was the back door just as you left it? Or was it actually not locked?”
