Chapter 28
Derrick cursed, thoroughly and at length. He was actually quite happy to have a live mic taped to his cheek, because that made interrogating possible miscreants all that much easier.
“All right,” he breathed, “which one of you saw Samantha’s parents and didn’t bother to tell me?”
“Not I, said the fly,” Oliver intoned solemnly.
“Not I, said the fish,” Peter added cheerfully.
“I’m going to kill you both,” Derrick whispered furiously. “Slowly, painfully, and happily. And if you don’t think I’m going to, think again.”
“We’re keeping an eye on the thugs backstage,” Oliver said. “What else do you want from us?”
Derrick supposed it was better not to say. He thanked them briskly, then turned to the most immediate of the problems facing him presently. That would be Edmund Cooke himself, who was looking as if he’d just seen a ghost. His mouth was working, but only babbling sounds of misery came out.
“Edmund,” Derrick said pleasantly. “It’s been a bit, hasn’t it?”
“Derrick Cameron,” Edmund managed finally. “What are you doing here?”
Derrick pulled Samantha behind him, just in case, then looked at the man who had ruined his life. “Oh, a bit of this and that.”
Edmund licked his lips nervously. “I heard you have a job hunting down little vintage knickknacks.”
“Something like that.”
“Why are you here, then?” Edmund said with a sick attempt at a smile. “It isn’t as though I have any, is it? Vintage things, that is. Or anything of value, really—”
“You damn well do!” shrieked a voice from the darkness.
Derrick considered stepping in, then decided the smartest thing he could do was step back and let Lydia have at her husband. At least that way he would see for whom the jewel thieves were working, if they were actually working for someone and not operating on their own.
Only Lydia didn’t leap for her husband, she leapt for Samantha.
“Give me your bag!” she screamed.
A knife flashed in the semidark.
Derrick reached out to disarm Lydia only to have her flinch a little, as if something had hit her in the back.
She looked at him, made a feeble stab with the blade, then her eyes rolled back in her head.
He caught her wrist to keep the knife away from his chest, then caught the rest of her before she collapsed.
He carefully laid Lydia on the ground and made a production of putting the knife well to the side of her.
He also managed to remove the very tiny dart with approximately five minutes of downtime out of her flesh and disentangle it from her sweater before Edmund stumbled over.
Derrick stood up, then put his hand behind his back. He felt Samantha carefully take the dart out of his hand. He assumed she would stick it in something that didn’t include either her flesh or his. He looked at Edmund who was hovering over his wife, but not reaching down to see if she was well.
“She fainted,” Derrick suggested.
“Is she still breathing?” Edmund asked, sounding as if he very much hoped she wasn’t.
Derrick squatted down and felt for her pulse, which was strong and steady. He took the knife, rose, and handed it to Edmund. “I think there are enough witnesses who will testify that she was holding this. You might want to find a place to keep it safe.”
“She’s crazy,” Edmund stated.
Derrick wasn’t about to pass judgment, but he was happy to get rid of the knife.
He also did the bobbies the favor of taping Lydia’s wrists together with the duct tape Samantha handed him.
He put Lydia into one of the seats, then taped her there as well.
No sense in leaving her free to do more damage.
Then he turned back to his business with Edmund.
He pulled out of his pocket the clear bag of gems that belonged to the man in front of him. He watched, mildly interested, to see what Edmund’s reaction would be. He’d been turning over a suspicion or two during the trip from London, but he hadn’t cared enough to even give voice to them.
Edmund took the bag, then his mouth fell open.
“How—”
“Your wife sewed them into Miss Drummond’s purse, they were discovered, and we’ve been working diligently to get them back to the proper owner.”
“But . . . how did you know that owner was me?”
“Because that’s what I do,” Derrick said coolly. “In that little knickknack business I own.”
Edmund looked shattered. He took a deep breath. “I hired, um, unsavory types to, ah, follow Miss Drummond.”
Derrick wasn’t surprised. He held up his hand to keep Edmund from saying anything else. “Oliver, send those lads on their way. I’m sure Mr. Cooke will be depositing payment into their accounts in the morning. No reason for them to hang about unnecessarily.”
Edmund stared at him in surprise. “Who are you talking to?”
“None of your business,” Derrick said. He looked at the man who had taken from him what he’d thought he wanted the most. “That’s over with. Back to business. Have a look at those stones.”
Edmund looked at them, counted them, then looked at Derrick in astonishment. “They’re all here. All four dozen—but—” He gasped, then he let out his breath slowly. “They’re not separated.” He looked around himself frantically. “Lights!” he shouted. “Turn on the bloody houselights!”
“Edmund, Edmund,” Derrick said with exaggerated concern. “Don’t get so worked up about this.”
“You idiot,” Edmund snarled, “they’re all mixed up.”
Derrick frowned. “All mixed up?”
Edmund made a noise of impatience. “The regular stones with the other ones.”
“What other ones?”
Edmund shot him a look of disgust. “What, you don’t know this? There are thirty-six regular stones, then twelve that are magical.”
Derrick would have smiled, but it was obvious to him the man in front of him was absolutely serious. “Magical?”
“Lights!” Edmund bellowed, then he took a deep breath.
“One of my ancestors had these stolen from him by his son. He had them given back to him by a . . .” He looked around, then leaned closer.
“By a young woman who he was convinced was a fairy. He had tried to give her twelve in gratitude for the return of the rest, but she had them delivered back to him. He was told they were covered in fairy dust, something that was certainly true given that she had sprung up from Faery through a ring in the grass.”
“Oh,” Derrick said, drawing the word out as long as possible to give himself time to come up with something else to say. “Interesting.”
The houselights went on and Edmund rolled his eyes and stomped off to a spot where the lights were actually of some use, then started to poke at his inheritance.
Derrick leaned his head back. “Fairy dust?”
“I told Granny they were fairly dusty,” Samantha said with a snort.
“Fairly dusty, fairy dusted—what’s the difference?”
“Apparently a family legend,” Samantha said. “And that didn’t take him long, did it?”
Derrick had to agree that it hadn’t. Edmund had the gems divided into two hands. He came to a stop in front of Derrick and looked at him.
“I owe you a debt I cannot repay,” he said, sounding as if the words were being pulled out of him by Victorian dental pliers. “I’d like to give you one of these.”
“Four,” Samantha said promptly.
Edmund gaped at her. Derrick had to admit he did the same thing. But Samantha Drummond was on fire. She looked at Edmund Cooke coolly.
“We’ll have four, because there were four of us involved in getting you your inheritance back. And we’ll have four from the fairy dust collection.” She picked up the plastic bag and held it open. “Put the regular ones in here.”
He did, looking at her as if he feared she would hurt him if he didn’t comply.
She zipped up the bag, then handed it back to him. “Now, pick four from the other hand.”
“That’s a lot of money,” he managed.
“I’m sure the original fairy would consider counting the cost to be terribly gauche. You cost Derrick his career because of your cowardice. Make it up to him right now.”
Derrick could only stand there and marvel at her. Had he ever wished she would just stand up for herself a bit more?
He had the feeling he might live to regret that wish.
Edmund looked, then gingerly flicked the four smallest stones away from the rest of them. Derrick supposed he would have only been surprised by anything else. Edmund looked at those four for several moments in silence, then held them out.
“Thank you.”
Derrick accepted them only because Samantha elbowed him so hard in the ribs.
“It might pay your rent for a few months,” Edmund added.
Derrick winced at that because Oliver’s snort had almost deafened him. He saw the police coming in the side door and supposed he would be in for it now. He sighed and shoved the gems into his pocket.
“Derrick,” Samantha warned.
He fished them out and handed them to her, then watched her shove all four into one of her jeans pockets.
“How is this different?” he asked with a frown.
“I checked my pockets for holes this morning.” She looked over to her left. “Looks like Lydia’s coming out of her little nap.”
Derrick wasn’t sure he cared what she had to say, so he took Samantha’s hand and pulled her back out of Lydia’s sights. It was interesting, however, to listen to Lydia rage with decreasing coherence at her husband. Samantha leaned close to him.
“I believe she just called me a Girl Guide. Is that sort of like a Girl Scout?”
“Hmmm,” he agreed. “And isn’t that interesting that she intended to sell the lace then decamp for France?”
“And that she stole the gems just out of spite,” Samantha said. “I don’t think she likes Edmund very much.”
“In that,” Derrick said frankly, “I would have to say Lydia Cooke and I fully agree.” He looked at her. “What next? Bobbies or your parents?”
“I’m not sure which will be worse.”
“The police will be, so let’s have at your parents first. Besides, they might surprise us.”
Or, perhaps not. He had known about them by reputation, of course, and by what they’d done to Samantha, but he was still surprised by how utterly annoying and condescending they were.