The Vanishing Thief(104)

I began to walk toward the chair, encouraged by Hancock now pointing the gun at me. “You mentioned a letter?”

“Didn’t the duke tell you? Daisy insisted on hosting a large party while we were still living at Chelling Meadows, during which Drake broke into my laboratory. He found the letter the cook wrote to her sister a few months after my brother’s death, spelling out her suspicions.

“The cook’d been looking at me in an odd way. When she sneaked out of the house the night she was supposedly killed by a thief, she was going to mail the letter. At the time, the shortest way to the postbox was by the laboratory. I saw her and followed her. She never mailed the letter.” He smiled and turned his head toward Blackford. “Tie her up.”

Blackford had worked his way to the side wall. “You tie her up.”

Hancock’s finger moved on the trigger as he aimed at me. “Then she won’t be tied up. I’ll just shoot her.”





Chapter Twenty-three





"WAIT.” I was certain Hancock was about to shoot me. He was crazy, and I had to stop the madman from killing me. Talking seemed to be my only weapon. “I don’t understand why you didn’t burn the letter. It’s not proof of anything, but it seems dangerous to keep it.”

“Why? It was in my laboratory. Mine. No one was ever allowed in. I could sit in my room, surrounded by my equipment, and look at the letter that showed how clever I’d been in removing the people who were in my way. Just as I’ll remove the people who now put me in danger.” Hancock aimed at my head and cocked the trigger.

I sat down hard in the chair as my knees gave out under me.

The duke stalked toward him.

Hancock’s hand shook as he swung around, backed up, and aimed at Blackford. He raised his voice to proclaim, “You may be a high and mighty duke, but I hold the gun.”

“And I’m the only one who can get you your letters. You need me.” The duke advanced. Hancock continued backward until he was clearly visible in the doorway.

“Hancock,” a gravelly voice said.

Hancock wheeled around and fired as he tumbled onto his back, a knife handle protruding from his chest and the gun still in his grip. The noise in the small area shook the walls and left my heart pounding at a gallop. The room smelled of gunpowder like a Guy Fawkes Night celebration. Blackford stepped forward and grabbed the pistol. I could see there was no need to hurry. Hancock’s hand was already lifeless.

I swung around to discover if Sumner was hurt. He appeared uninjured as he faced Blackford and pointed upward. There was a hole in the plastered ceiling near the doorway, with spidery cracks leading away in all directions and plaster dust sifting into a coating on the faded carpet.

After that, everything became a commotion. Inspector Grantham and several uniformed constables arrived in a clatter. Sir Broderick, Emma, Dominique, and Jacob were freed of their bonds. The police carried Jacob to his bed and sent for a doctor to examine him. Inspector Grantham examined the room before Hancock’s body could be taken away for the police medical officer to examine. Blackford and Sumner followed Inspector Grantham as he pushed Sir Broderick in his wheeled chair into another room to hold a conference.

I sat on the sofa between Emma and Dominique, one arm around each of them as they spilled out their tears and their tale of Lord Hancock’s rambling complaints. I listened to them and dried their tears, but my gaze kept returning to the closed door across the hall where the men were deciding Sumner’s fate.

I was glad I didn’t have to play a part in that conversation. My nerves were still on edge from facing that horrible pistol.

The doctor went into the other room and then left the house. We continued to sit. My fright changed to surprise as I looked at the ornately painted mantel clock and realized on any other day I’d be greeting customers in my bookshop. My ordinary customers in my ordinary bookshop on my ordinary street. I hugged Emma tighter and blinked back my tears. She was still alive to work side by side with me.

Emma leaned her head on my shoulder. “Aunt Phyllida is going to be angry with me when she hears I was tied up twice by the same madman.”

I could hear the gray-haired spinster lecturing us and began to laugh. Emma joined in until neither of us knew if our tears were from fright or hilarity.

We’d calmed down and dried our eyes by the time the men finally ended their conference. Grantham left with the bobbies. Sir Broderick talked to Emma and Dominique. Sumner stood brooding in a corner. And Blackford came to me.

“Georgia. Er, Miss Fenchurch, I’m going to Waterloo Station to see the Drakes off. If you and Miss Keyes would care to join me, I’ll take you to your bookshop afterward.”