Chapter 24 #2
“Clearly I am a na?ve idiot.” Henning ran a palm along his unshaven jaw.
“No doubt you’ve lost all faith in me, but you’ve now been told the whole sordid truth.
Yes, I prevaricated with you about Langdon’s death, for Murray and I feared that a verdict of murder would have the authorities looking even more carefully at the events of ten years ago and discover our network of radical thinkers and essayists.
We didn’t want them to suffer because of our smuggling activities. ”
“I think Langdon was getting close to us ten years ago,” said Murray, “but when the conspiracy was discovered, that shifted the government’s full attention to the monetary scandal and we were able to … to simply slip away into the shadows.”
Charlotte mulled over what she had just heard, wanting very much to believe it.
But …
As if reading her mind, Wrexford tapped his fingertips together. “So, why do you think …”
He allowed a deliberately long pause before continuing.
“Why do you think Langdon asked me to meet with him on the night he was murdered?” Without waiting for an answer, he added, “Langdon seemed quite agitated when he took me aside after Ibbetson’s demonstration of this geometric lathe and requested a private meeting. ”
“A meeting that he took great pains to ensure remained unknown to anyone else,” pointed out Charlotte.
“I have no idea,” answered Murray with a helpless shrug.
“No?” Wrexford narrowed his eyes. “Then explain why the identical engraved motif that appears on your rings also appears on the rings used by Fletcher Campbell to move his brother’s son to safety.”
“I—I can’t!” Murray ran a hand through his hair. “I wish that I could … W-wait!” He sat up a little straighter. “Fletch once admired my ring and asked for a closer look after I explained the symbolism to him and what the rings were used for.”
A shaky sigh. “Actually the engraved weapon is not precisely a dagger, but rather the traditional Scottish one-edged knife called a sgian dubh. It symbolizes our fierce loyalty to the Auld Sod and our spirit of independence. I had seen an ancient Celtic design with the same motif and had a small number of the rings made for the men of the Paine Society who were involved in moving the pamphlets down to London.”
Murray shook his head. “All I can think of is that Fletcher copied the idea and used it for his own network.”
Was it merely wishful thinking that had her yearning to believe the explanation? Charlotte remained silent, pondering all the details she had just heard. Wrexford, too, looked to be struggling to make a decision. He had turned to stare into the glowing coals …
Be damned with logic.
Charlotte had always trusted her intuition when it came to making momentous choices, and had never regretted it.
Trust.
She suddenly felt a smile blossom on her lips. Rising, she hurried to Henning and crouched down beside his chair.
“Bloody hell—you are a na?ve idiot, Baz.” Her kiss to his cheek took any of the sting out of the oath. “Next time don’t be such a damnably stubborn arse about trusting us.”
“I … I …” For an instant, the glint of tears shone in his eyes before he looked away. “You’re right, I’ve been an unmitigated arse.”
“You’re forgiven.” Another kiss. “But don’t ever let it happen again.”
“Recriminations can wait,” said Wrexford gruffly, though the room suddenly no longer felt so oppressively dark. “I hope that I won’t regret it, but I’m inclined to agree with Charlotte and give you two rascals the benefit of the doubt.”
He blew out a harried breath. “So we need to think hard about who might be looking for Archie Campbell’s son.
I have reason to think that the villain—or villains—may be wearing a ring of the same design as Fletcher Campbell gave to the men who helped Archie Campbell’s son escape the hangman’s noose. ”
He gave a terse explanation of his conversation with the former manager at the Soho Mint, which revealed that someone wearing a heart-and-crossed daggers ring had been asking questions about Langdon and the Lisbon Conspiracy a week before Wrexford’s visit.
“Ye gods, do you think it was the mastermind of the Lisbon Conspiracy who murdered Fletcher Campbell in order to steal his ring?” asked Henning.
“It seems the obvious answer. You yourself noticed that the flesh on his finger indicated that a ring had been recently removed. And Archie Campbell’s son would trust someone wearing a heart-and-dagger ring without question.”
“And you think this mastermind arranged for the attack on you because he guessed that you were getting too close to the truth?” pressed Henning.
“Yes. I do. There was an earlier attack,” replied Wrexford, though he had no intention of saying too much with Murray present.
“I won’t go into the details, but it was related to Fletcher Campbell’s murder and involved three men posing as officers of the Royal Horse Guards.
One of them was injured, but my guess is the other two were my assailants. ”
He paused. “It’s likely that the mastermind has heard about my investigation and believes that I’m a threat to his current plans,” he continued.
“Perhaps he overheard me making arrangements with Sheffield to meet with the manager of the Soho Mint at the Royal Society meeting, for we believe that the mastermind has entrée into the highest circles of Society.”
A glance at Murray. “That’s one of the reasons you were a suspect.”
“Should Ainsley be a suspect?” suggested Charlotte after a moment of thought. “Not only is he a Bank official and the younger son of an earl, but he’s also a member of the Royal Society and serves on the committee to choose the winner of the Inimitable Banknote design competition.”
Murray reacted with a skeptical grimace. “I can’t imagine him as a villain. He’s such a pleasant, friendly fellow and has an impeccable reputation. I’ve not ever heard an ill word against him.”
“Perhaps that’s a good reason to be suspicious,” said the earl. “The most cunning of villains are diabolically skilled at hiding their true character under a guise of sunny bonhomie.”
“Kit seems to have a good impression of him, too,” mused Charlotte. “And it was our friend David Ricardo who put them together in the first place.” She blew out a sigh. “Needless to say, we both have reason to think Ricardo is an excellent judge of character.”
“Might I offer a suggestion, milord?” ventured Murray.
Wrexford nodded.
“Damien Manchester, whom you and Mr. Sheffield met at Ainsley’s banknote demonstration, is a longtime friend of Ainsley.
The two of them have known each other since their undergraduate days at Cambridge—and as you know, he is an expert in the decorative arts.
Indeed, he’s the proprietor of a very exclusive and expensive antiquities emporium on Bond Street. ”
“I’ve heard of him,” commented Charlotte. “His discerning eye for art has made him a great favorite of the Prince Regent and the Carlton House set.”
“Indeed he is. As your husband knows, Manchester—like me—also serves as an unofficial design consultant to our committee. That’s because of his expert artistic knowledge about guilloche designs created by geometric lathes,” explained Murray.
He looked back to the earl. “It occurs to me that perhaps in chatting with him you could discreetly elicit some details about Ainsley that might prove useful.”
“Perhaps,” said Wrexford. “But it’s not always easy to create an encounter conducive to wheedling out sensitive information—”
“Ah, but that’s just it! I have the perfect event in mind,” countered Murray.
“Ainsley and his wife are holding a gala soiree for his banking colleagues and select members from the Royal Society and the Royal Society of Arts later this week. I know that your friend Sheffield and his wife are invited, and I’m sure I can arrange to have you and Lady Wexford added to the guest list.”
After considering the offer for a long moment, the earl nodded. “It’s worth a try.” Though they were taking great care to keep Jacob Perkins’s presence in London a secret, Wrexford knew it would be a grave mistake to underestimate their shadowy adversary.
Fisting his hands, he rapped his knuckles together. “We’ve wasted precious time barking up the wrong tree. We need to find the damnable mastermind before he strikes again.”