Page 65 of The Trick of the Treasure
“Then what the devil has he done with it? Who would have killed him? His accomplice on the ship? Tybalt? He lied to us, after all, about Samuels’s address.”
Solomon smiled grimly. “A lot of people have been lying to us.”
They both thought about that for a few moments, then Constance said uneasily, “What if whoever shot Clarke has harmed Audrey too?”
“I can’t think why,” Solomon said, although the idea had occurred to him too. “The connection is inexplicable.”
Constance sighed. “Everything in this case seems to be. Did you learn anything about her disappearance? When did anyone last see her? What has she taken with her?”
“She took most of her clothes, apparently, and some personal items. I don’t know any other details yet.”
Constance’s eyes widened. “You haven’t been to the Lloyds’ house yet?”
“No, I came straight after you.”
“Well, off you go now.”
His lips twitched at her imperiousness. “When the doctor has seen you.”
“By then, Sydney might have filled his ears with poison against us,” she said urgently.
“Oh, I think that moment has passed, don’t you? He was never going to tell his parents, or he would have to admit where and how he found out. Whatever Lloyd’s own habits, he is not the kind of man to turn a blind eye to his offspring’s. And confession might also end completely Ben Devine’s chances with Jemimah. Sydney might retain some sibling loyalty, or regard for his friendship with Ben.”
She looked doubtful, then thoughtful. Finally, she said, “I don’t like this, Solomon. That my other profession is a liability to Silver and Grey. Any prospective client who walks through our doors could know me.”
“Well, we are not hiding,” Solomon pointed out. “It is our names on the door and on our cards. Investigation is not normally regarded as a particularly respectable profession. I don’t see that clients would care.”
She regarded him fixedly, not without fascination. “Seriously?”
He smiled. “Seriously. I have a plan.” There came the sounds of people crossing the outer room, so he released her hand and stood up. “Which I shall tell you about later.”
Sarah, who had led him with his beloved burden to Constance’s bedroom, came in again with a brisk young man with a medical bag.
“And you are?” the doctor said, his voice wintry.
“Grey. Mrs. Silver’s betrothed.”
That appeared to take the wind out of the doctor’s protective sails, for he merely grunted and turned immediately to his patient. “It’s stopped bleeding and looks clean enough, but it hadbetter be stitched. First, though, look at my finger—follow it with your eyes.”
He proceeded to ask a lot of other odd questions, while he turned her face to the light and peered into her eyes, lifting the lids to see more.
“Concussion can be a nasty thing. You must rest for at least twenty-four hours—and I meanbedrest, Mrs. Silver. I also want someone to be with you during all of that time. If you notice any change,” he flung at Solomon and Sarah, “send for me at once. Now, I’m afraid this is going to hurt…”
*
It was aftermidday before Solomon finally left Constance and walked round to the Lloyds’ house. He could still feel her suffering as if it were his own, even though she had been brave and stoic. The doctor had given her a mild draft, he said, to ease the pain, and when she finally slept, Solomon reluctantly left her in the care of her devoted handmaidens—a maid and a prostitute and a girl called Libby whom she was teaching to read.
Arriving at the Lloyds’ residence, he was shown immediately into the master’s study.
“I sent for you hours ago!” Lloyd said, springing from his chair at his desk. “Is something more urgent than the disappearance of my poor, gentle sister? Does my employ mean nothing to you?”
“It means a great deal, sir. In fact, I was detained by an assault on my partner, Mrs. Silver, while she was about your inquiries.”
“Eh?” Lloyd frowned and sat back down, waving irritably to the chair on the near side of the desk. “What happened? Is she well? Who did it?”
“She was struck on the head,” Solomon said, seating himself. “In the house of one Mr. Joshua Clarke, whom I believe you know.”
“Clarke? It’s a common enough name, but I can’t think of him offhand. What makes you think I know him?”
