Page 99 of Peril in Piccadilly
But he clearly noticed it now. There was a stack of toast on the table in front of him, and he was making his way through it at a rapid pace.
“What happened?” I wanted to know, and he flicked me a look.
“It’s a long story. Let me eat, and then I’ll tell you. I’m certain you have other things to discuss with Tom.”
I was certain we did, too. Crispin and Tom had continued the conversation while I’d been speaking to Christopher, for one thing.
“I already know that,” Tom said. “I’ll be taking Finch and Curtis and Pendennis out there as soon as we’re finished here.”
They must be talking about the body. But how could he know about that already, unless?—
“Were you in the house in Thornton Heath?” I asked Christopher.
He nodded, mouth full of toast.
“You must have left just before we got there.”
Christopher swallowed. “Halfway through the night. The sleeping draught wore off. He’d usually give me a dose at night, but he didn’t come back for it last night.”
No, Wolfgang had been busy carrying me onto a freighter bound for Germany last night. I supposed he thought that once Christopher woke up, the ship would have sailed, quite literally, and there would be nothing he could do to get me back.
“So you just walked away?”
“Stepped over the body and headed down the stairs.” He reached for another piece of toast.
“But you didn’t stop at the local constabulary on the way?”
“I was still dressed in your skirt and jacket,” Christopher said as he lifted the piece of toast to his mouth. “I didn’t want to risk it.”
He bit into it while I nodded. No, that made sense, actually.
“What did you want?” I asked Tom, who blinked at me. “You came to the flat for something. Were you looking for us?”
“Yes, of course.” He had taken off his jacket at some point, to get comfortable—he had been up all night too, hadn’t he?—and it was hanging over the back of one of the chairs. Now he went to it, reached into one of the pockets, drew something out, and came back to the table, where he put it in front of Crispin. “Here you are.”
When he took his hand away, the gaudy Sutherland engagement ring sparkled on top of the wood, next to a pair of matching earrings and a string of pearls. I winced as a refracted beam of light hit me in the eye.
“Natterdorff stole it?” Crispin asked, without making a move towards picking any of it up.
Tom nodded. “We have to keep it in evidence for now. You’ll get it back once it’s been processed. But I thought you would want to see that it has been recovered.”
“Thank you.” The look he slanted at it wasn’t that of a man happy to see his heirlooms, but more like someone who wished he would never see the items again.
“I also need you to formally identify them. I know what I’m looking at, but they’re yours, so I need it to be official.”
“Of course.” Crispin cleared his throat. “That’s the engagement ring that I gave to Laetitia in August, with the matching earrings. They’re part of the Sutherland parure. They’re the same pieces that were stolen from Marsden House on Friday night.”
“And the pearls?”
“You’ll have to ask Laetitia,” Crispin said. “I didn’t give them to her. And one string of pearls looks very much like another.”
Tom nodded. “Thank you.” He scooped it all up. “I’ll get it back to you as quickly as I can.”
“No hurry,” Crispin muttered, but I’m not sure Tom heard him.
“Did you find Wolfgang when you went back out?” I asked Tom when he had made his way back to the table.
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. He wasn’t in the water. And we didn’t find a body, so it’s possible he’s still alive. We searched the freighter again before we let it go, and didn’t find him, but it’s possible that he may have stowed away somewhere we didn’t look. He could be on his way home. If not, I suppose we’ll find out in a few days.”
