Chapter 33 #2
Ainsley’s eyes widened in shock as the earl yanked him across the threshold. “I—I …” He paused, looking too stunned to speak.
Wrexford released him and drew the brass key from his pocket. “Does this look familiar?”
The only response was a confused stare.
“We’ll give you a hint,” said von Münch. “You’re going to lead us to the Bank of England and open the door to the place where you have Kit Sheffield imprisoned.”
“Sheffield imprisoned—by me? A-Are you mad?” Ainsley swallowed hard. “If this is a jest, it’s not at all amusing.”
“It’s no jest,” replied Wrexford. “Sheffield has been abducted, and I’ve received a ransom note. Suffice it to say, it involves a nefarious plot concerning the Bank’s competition to create the Inimitable Banknote.”
“We have reason to believe you are the mastermind,” interjected von Münch, “or have partnered in the perfidy with your brother-in-law.”
“That’s preposterous!” Ainsley’s face went slack, all color leaching from his flesh. “I—I have no idea what else to say, milord.” Another frightened swallow. “Other than I am entirely innocent of any such horrific crimes.”
Wrexford looked to MacArthur, who reluctantly shook his head. “I—I have never seen him or heard his voice.”
The earl admitted to himself that the fellow’s protest had a ring of truth to it. A glance at von Münch showed he, too, was of the same opinion.
However, he wasn’t quite ready to give up his interrogation. Returning to the matter of the key and his significance, he confronted Ainsley with what he had learned earlier in the day.
“Joseph Bramah’s son said that he received an order from you—an official bank document with your signature and all the correct seals—to create an additional complex lock and key for the Bank of England to match the other his father had fabricated.
An officer of the Royal Horse Guards presented it and then picked up the lock when it was done. ”
“I never sent such an order,” responded Ainsley without hesitation.
“As for having picked up the order of such a lock, we have our own security men who handle that sort of thing.” He frowned.
“We never use the Royal Horse Guards—or any military regiment. And you need not take my word for it. You can verify that with any of the other governors of the bank.”
“Do you keep any official bank forms and seals here at your residence?” pressed the earl.
“Yes, in the desk of my private study, as I sometimes work at home,” answered Ainsley. “But both the room’s door and the desk are always kept locked when I’m not using them.”
“What about your brother-in-law? Does he have access to the keys?” asked von Münch.
“Absolutely not. Only my wife knows where I keep them.”
“Please ask Mrs. Ainsley to join us,” said Wrexford.
“Oh, but surely …”Ainsley drew in a shaky breath. “Very well.” Turning to the butler, who was hovering in the shadows behind him, he repeated the earl’s request.
An awkward silence ensued …
Only to be broken by a sharp series of whistles from somewhere in the gloom of the unlit street.
Instantly recognizing the distinctive signal used by the Weasels, Wrexford whirled around.
An instant later, Raven—disguised in filthy rags and a malodorous stink—darted forward. The earl rushed to meet him at the bottom of the entrance steps, and after a hurried exchange, Raven retreated to where Eddy was waiting, while Wrexford rejoined von Münch and Ainsley.
“Change of plan,” he announced curtly. He whispered a quick explanation to his friend, and then turned to the banker. “You and your wife—”
“Sir! Sir!” The agitated cry of the butler echoed off the walls of the entrance hall as he came flying down the stairs. “Mrs. Ainsley is nowhere to be found!”
“Bloody hell,” muttered Wrexford.
Ainsley looked on the verge of fainting. “Y-You don’t think Philip w-would—”
“Lock the door and don’t leave your residence,” snapped Wrexford, aware that von Münch was already halfway to where Raven and Eddy were waiting. “And that’s a bloody order,” he called as he grabbed MacArthur by the sleeve and set off at a dead run to catch up.
Charlotte was roused from a fitful doze by the sound of metal scraping against metal. The massive door swung open on its well-oiled hinges and a probing beam of light momentarily blinded her.
“Awake, are you?” Manchester stepped into the vault and hung his lantern on a wall hook.
There was a serpentlike curl to his lips, and Charlotte cursed herself for failing to see the snake lurking behind the amiable art connoisseur’s polished smile.
“We are not going anywhere with you,” she said.
Sheffield stirred and blinked the sleep from his eyes. “You heard m’lady,” he mumbled. “Not going anywhere.”
A careless laugh rumbled in his throat as Manchester revealed the double-barreled pocket pistol in his hand. “I’m afraid you’re right. Regretfully, you’re not going anywhere.”
For a moment, the silence was deafening.
“You’ll never get away with murdering us,” said Charlotte.
“Ah, but the thing is, Lady Wrexford, I’ve made an art of getting away with a great many crimes.
This one will be no different,” said Manchester.
“My partner in crime has already gone to fetch our coachman for the journey to the coast, and the weapon that I drop here will incriminate someone who is already under suspicion.”
“Wrexford knows enough about your past and present misdeeds to see it’s a red herring,” she countered.
Manchester shrugged. “We’ve planted our seeds of suspicion quite carefully. With no witnesses to say otherwise, I daresay the authorities will be more than happy to knot a fresh hangman’s noose for our scapegoat and deem the case closed.”
Charlotte closed her eyes for an instant, realizing how well Manchester had dropped his hints and led them astray. “Be that as it may, Wrexford won’t be fooled. He will chase you to the ends of the earth.”
“I’ll take that chance,” he replied. “If I leave the two of you alive, I’m as good as dead, so I’ve nothing to lose.”
Now fully alert, Sheffield sat up. “Let’s not be hasty,” he began, only to stop short on seeing the dark-on-dark silhouettes of two figures materialize from the gloom.