“You will want me to investigate his financial situation, then?”
“Yes, and I’ll let you set that ball in motion before we pursue a bit of science.”
He glances at me.
“It’s time to check that ransom note for fingerprints,” I say.
ChapterFifteen
It’s teatime when Jack—dressed in her maid clothes—comes into the laboratory to tell us our guest has arrived. Our other guest, that is. Our first guest joined us earlier this afternoon for the fingerprint analysis, as he has requested—possibly demanded—to be present anytime we need to do such a thing.
We leave him behind and meet Lord Simpson just inside the front door.
“What’s this about, Gray?” Simpson says, and Miss Howell might not have been able to imagine him piqued, but he definitely seems piqued right now.
I step forward. “Thank you so much for joining us. We do appreciate you coming on such short notice, sir.” I pause and then say, “I fear it is about your valet, and we wished you to hear this in person.”
“Myformervalet?” Simpson exhales. “He stole the letters, didn’t he? You could have just said that, instead of summoning me to speak on a ‘delicate matter’ in regards to your investigation.”
“Itisdelicate,” I say. “Now, if you will permit our maid to take your coat, we shall have tea upstairs and explain the situation fully.”
Gray, Simpson, and I have settled in the drawing room, where Jack has served tea. I wait until we’ve started to eat, then I exclaim, “Oh! Lord Simpson, that plate is not supposed to be used. It has a crack.” I rise and put out my hand. “Can you pass it to me, please?”
He does, with some confusion, and I give him a fresh plate from a stack on the sideboard. Then I sit back down.
Gray clears his throat. “About your valet...”
“Yes,” Simpson says. “You believe he is responsible for this, but I assure you, I cannot see it.”
“Because you offered to pay the blackmail if he was.”
Simpson pauses. “Yes.”
“That is what we wished to speak to you about. The fact that you offered to pay—and did not tell us—meant we went into the interview missing vital information. We need everything, Charles.”
Simpson sighs. “So you have summoned me to rap my knuckles? Fine. I deserved that. I could not help myself. Lewis was the obvious suspect, and so I had to be sure.”
“And how did you intend to pay him, should he have been the culprit?”
Simpson stops with his teacup raised. “Hmm?”
“This is the other delicate part of this meeting,” Gray says. “We had several accounts that your finances are in disorder, and so I investigated, because it seemed odd that you would attempt to pay your valet five hundred pounds if you did not have such funds at hand.”
“You investigated my?—”
“Yes.” Gray meets his gaze. “We are investigators. That is what we do. It appears you have recently defaulted on a loan. It also appears that you have planned a trip to Europe but have not paid for it.”
“How the devil?—?”
A knock at the door. Gray calls a greeting. It opens, and McCreadie walks in, having only come from downstairs, though he rubs his hands, as if still warming them from the winter cold.
“Hugh,” Gray says. “How good of you to join us. Hugh, this is Lord Simpson. Lord Simpson, this is my good friend, Detective McCreadie, criminal officer of the Edinburgh Police.”
Simpson visibly blanches before daubing his lips with his napkin and rising to shake McCreadie’s hand.
“It seems you have another guest, Duncan,” Simpson says. “I shall take my leave?—”
“No, Detective McCreadie is here on business. And has shown up just in time for tea.” Gray waves to the fourth spot, which Simpson obviously hadn’t noticed was set.
