Chapter Six
Harrison roamed to the sideboard and helped himself to a pour of Simon’s fine scotch. Now that Jones had left to escort Miss Winters to join her aunt at the Therrimen Hotel, he might actually be able to talk some sense into his usually rational sibling.
“When you sent me after Miss Winters, you failed to tell me she is working with the American. Why in damnation did you keep that rather crucial fact from me?”
“Would you have gone if I’d told you all of it?” Simon replied.
“If I’d known she was in danger, I would have kept her out of O’Hanlon’s reach.”
“Which is precisely why I did not reveal the specifics of her task. You would have upended the investigation.”
“Aninvestigationthat should not involve a woman like Gracie Winters. She’s not prepared to defend herself against violent criminals.” Harrison kept his voice purposefully bland. Earlier, he’d allowed unexpected emotion to color his tone. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Simon understood logic, not instinct. He had little patience for gut feelings and the like. His brother wanted facts. And he expected results. His cool rationality served him well in his role as director of the Highland Antiquities Guild.
Settling wearily into a chair, Simon propped his feet up on his desk, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind his head. “I suspect you’re right.”
Harrison whipped around. Had his ears deceived him? “What the hell are you saying?”
“Miss Winters is ill-suited to this mission.” Simon kept his voice low. “She possesses the necessary skills, and she’s a competent actress. But she’s soft.”
“She’s cunning. And she’s manipulative. Don’t let that pretty face fool you.”
“I don’t doubt that. But she’s never dealt with the likes of Raibert,” Simon said. “The American has confidence in her abilities—I cannot say the same.”
“She’s made a devil’s bargain with Jones, but she cannot be trusted. Dispatch another agent—a well-trained female operative.”
“Our options are limited, and time is of the essence. If Belle Fairchild was not involved in her father’s death, she may be in grave danger. Typically, our organization would not become involved with such a case, but we’ve reason to believe her father had acquired a relic of considerable significance, asgian dubhforged more than a thousand years ago—the MacKendrick dagger.”
“That dirk was stolen from a museum in Glasgow more than a dozen years ago. You believe Herbert Fairchild purchased a stolen antiquity?”
“We don’t know how he obtained it, but there’s evidence the dagger was the crown jewel of his collection. Shortly before his death, he hired an investigator to make discreet inquiries regarding its whereabouts. Evidently, the knife had been taken from its case, but he refused to contact the authorities. There’s good reason to suspect that one of them—Miss Fairchild or her fiancé—took the dagger.”
“What evidence do you have?”
“Nothing strong enough to make a case to the American authorities.” Simon raked a hand through his hair. “Fairchild’s investigator may have uncovered proof, but he wasn’t available to be questioned. The poor bastard was murdered in a Manhattan alley the night Fairchild died.”
“Bloody hell. You think he learned too much?”
“There’s a slim chance the timing of his death was a coincidence. Felix Lowry made a living digging up skeletons others wanted to stay buried. But we now have definitive evidence that O’Hanlon killed him.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Lowry was known to wear a family ring bearing a valuable emerald. O’Hanlon took…shall we say…a token from the man.”
“A token? This sounds like something Poe might have dreamt up.”
“The unfortunate bloke was missing not only his ring but a digit.”
“Good God. The killer cut off his finger to get to the jewel.”
Simon shook his head. “We suspect Raibert demanded proof of death. The book Miss Winters took from O’Hanlon had been hollowed out. Within its pages, he’d concealed Lowry’s ring—as well as his severed finger.”
“Good God. Jones sent Miss Winters after a killer’s prize.” Harrison scowled. “He had to know how much danger she was in.”
“In the man’s defense, he was keeping watch over her. If you had not intervened, Jones was close by. He would have taken action.”
Harrison pinned Simon with his gaze. “Before or after O’Hanlon choked the life out of her?”
