CHAPTER 15 #2
A martyred sigh. “You might show a little more appreciation for my cleverness.” But sensing that the earl was in no mood for their usual verbal fencing, Tyler turned serious.
“I’ve discovered a key connection and think it may lead us to Milton’s killer.
My efforts to befriend one of the French radicals paid off tonight as I plied him with the piss-poor red wine served at their gathering place.
Convinced that I am a comrade-in-arms in the fight against the ruling class, he confided in me that he and his friends soon expect to possess a momentous technological innovation that will allow them to make a great deal of money. ”
He paused. “And that the proceeds would be used for the Higher Good.”
“What the devil did he mean by that?” asked Wrexford.
Tyler shook his head. “He realized that he had perhaps let slip more than he meant to, so I didn’t dare press him on that.
I did, however, express admiration and ask how he had managed to make such a deal.
And he said it was because a good friend from his school days—a fellow who is a staunch believer in the ideals of the radicals—happens to be one of the leaders of the French scientific society that is currently in London to attend the international conference on transportation. ”
“Finally a connection,” murmured Charlotte.
“Perhaps,” muttered Wrexford, who wasn’t quite ready to accept the drunken ramblings of his valet’s newfound comrade.
“I understand your skepticism, milord. But apparently the radical group has given the member of the French scientific society money for a bribe to obtain the plans for the innovation—”
“That has to mean Milton’s secret,” interjected Charlotte.
“It’s hard to imagine otherwise,” agreed Wrexford.
“It’s also hard to imagine that the society member isn’t Mademoiselle Benoit,” said Charlotte.
“I don’t see how she could have committed the murder herself,” pointed out the earl. “If she’s involved—which I think is likely—then she has to have a co-conspirator.”
“I seem to recall you mentioning that Brunel said both the president of the French scientific society and Mademoiselle Benoit were experts on bridge design.”
“True,” mused Wrexford. “I suppose it makes sense that the two leaders of the group might be working together.”
“The Weasels are following the French radical to learn where he is lodging. That may reveal his co-conspirators,” began Tyler.
But before he could go on, the sudden flurry of steps in the corridor announced that the boys had returned.
“Wrex! M’lady!” Raven burst into the workroom first, with Hawk and Peregrine right on his heels. “We followed the Frenchman to a house near Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and he is definitely up to something havey-cavey—”
“Blackmail!” announced Peregrine.
“Theft!” added Hawk.
“Possibly murder!” cried Raven, raising his voice to be heard above the others.
Wrexford placed a fisted hand on his hip and waited for the excited shouting to cease.
The boys exchanged glances and immediately fell silent.
“That’s better,” remarked the earl. “Now, tell us exactly what happened—calmly and with as much detail as possible.”
Raven took a moment to steady his breathing.
“We did what Mr. Tyler asked and followed the Frenchman from the tavern in Seven Dials to a house on a side street close to Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
” He quickly explained about seeing a light in one of the back windows and spotting a way to sneak close to it.
“Once we climbed down into the walled yard, we found a stack of crates and carried them over to the window, which allowed me to climb up and ease the casement open.”
“Repeat what you heard,” said the earl, “and please do so as exactly as you can.”
“Oiy, I knew you would think that important,” replied Raven. “There was a group—three men and one woman—and they were negotiating a deal . . .”
“Garfield!” whispered Charlotte, once Raven had finished recounting the conversation.
“I also had Hawk climb up for a look to see if he could get a good glimpse of the woman and Beaky Nose,” explained Raven. “The light was awfully dim where they was standing—”
“Beaky Nose had shifted into the shadows. But I was able to see the woman’s features clearly,” interjected Hawk. “If you give me a pencil and paper, m’lady, I can draw her likeness.”
Charlotte quickly rustled through the items on the earl’s desk and brought over what he needed.
Hawk, who had a discerning eye for detail, needed only several minutes to complete his sketch and hand it over to her.
“Well, well.” The earl allowed a grim smile as he caught a glimpse of the portrait. “It appears that Mademoiselle Benoit is indeed up to her neck in intrigue.”
* * *
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut. Sometimes her reasoning worked better when she tried to picture how the pieces of the puzzle fit together.
“I don’t disagree,” she said after considering all the variables. “And clearly so is Garfield. I sensed that he was hiding something when Cordelia and I interviewed him in Cambridge.”
“All this could very well mean that Carrick is innocent,” pointed out McClellan.
Charlotte feared that it wasn’t going to prove so simple. “Perhaps. But the fact that Garfield said that he knows where Milton’s papers are is unsettling.”
Wrexford seemed to understand her concern. “You think he believes that Carrick murdered Milton.”
She nodded. “I can’t help but recall Wheeler’s account of the heated quarrel he overheard between them.”
“Wheeler could have been lying,” pointed out Tyler.
“True. However, he was brought into the society only recently by Milton and has little in common with them socially. My sense was he didn’t much like or respect Garfield, Wayland, or Carrick personally, but the chance to work with a genius like Milton overcame his distaste,” replied Charlotte.
“I find him a rather colorless fellow, but his devotion to facts and the scientific method of reaching a conclusion—which he said gave him no choice but to tell the authorities what he had overheard—struck me as sincere.”
“And yet, as you often point out, greed is a powerful emotional force,” said Wrexford. “Wheeler may also have realized what Milton’s invention would be worth if it actually allows for longer bridges.”
“Given that all the members of the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society possess an expertise in bridges, I’m sure that Wayland realized it as well,” replied Charlotte.
“So you’re right. In theory, they all could be guilty of the murder.
” She blew out her breath. “But let us not run round and round in circles. We now have actual evidence to suspect Garfield—who is conspiring with Mademoiselle Benoit and Beaky Nose—in addition to Carrick.”
“I say Mrs. Guppy and her connection with Carrick merit further scrutiny as well,” said the earl.
Charlotte fetched a notebook from Wrexford’s desk and wrote down the names.
A sigh. “Now, we need to come up with plans for how to uncover more information about the activities of the various people . . .”
“And hope,” muttered Wrexford, “that it will lead us to Milton’s killer.”