I took a deep breath and tried to look at the puzzle rationally. Ticking things off on my fingers, I said, “Lord Hancock wants Drake to stay away from his ward. I understand why he doesn’t want Drake to reappear if he wants to make a good marriage for her. The Duke of Blackford wants to find Drake so he can restore his name, but he doesn’t want our help. You’d think he’d welcome assistance. And Drake’s housekeeper refuses to believe anything untoward happened to her employer despite the blood and disorder in the house.”
“What else is odd about this, Georgia?” Sir Broderick’s eyes were half-closed like a cat sleeping in the sun. He was slumped back in his wheeled chair, his arms at rest on his lap robe. From previous cases, I knew his appearance was at odds with his lightning-fast mind.
“Two peers came here tonight for the same purpose. One worried about his niece, the other worried about his name. And there are three more just like them lurking in the background. Maybe more.”
“What do we know about any of these people?”
“Nothing yet. Including Drake, whose ancestry may or may not be what I was told.”
“Study the records. There should be plenty on the peers. Miss Carter and Drake might prove more difficult. Adam, Jacob, Emma, they’ll be your responsibility. After you go through the records, find their friends. Talk to the neighbors. It’s a new neighborhood. Try talking to them whilst pretending to take a survey for the Water Board. That ruse has worked well in the past.”
Sir Broderick turned his gaze toward me. “We need to know the identities of all of Drake’s victims. Talk to Lady Westover. She’s a terrible old bat, but very useful. Then start with the records on Blackford and Hancock until you can tell me what they had for breakfast.”
“There’s no financial gain in this,” Frances said.
“We’re going to take on Drake’s disappearance out of love for our fellow man,” Sir Broderick replied. And then he smiled the way the cat smiled at the canary. “Frances, help Georgia with the records, please.”
“You don’t think this was a simple abduction,” Adam Fogarty said as he paced in front of the bookcases, his footsteps making a th-thump, th-thump on the wooden boards. Then he stopped and rubbed his stiff knee, muttering something in a growl.
“No. If it were, we wouldn’t hear claims that a duke was involved or that the victim was a thief,” the baronet said.
I held up a hand, palm out. “To question our suspects, we’re going to need to move about society.”
Sir Broderick smiled. “Be sure to see Lady Westover tomorrow. You’ll need her help to give an authentic performance. You’re about to enter aristocratic society.”
Chapter Four
AS the meeting broke up, I went to sit next to Sir Broderick. I couldn’t bear the heat from the fireplace baking my skin, but I couldn’t let it drive me away.
He looked at my face and said, “What is it, Georgia?”
“I saw him today. My parents’ murderer.”
“Good grief. You can’t be certain. It’s been a dozen years.”
“Yes, I can. I spent time with him. I memorized his face. I remember his stride and how he carried a newspaper under his arm. I’ll be able to point him out until the day I die.”
Sir Broderick kept shaking his head. “He could be dead or have left the country. His appearance could have changed with time.”
“This man looked older, but it was him. I saw him walking along Hyde Park Place. Perhaps it’s time to again check on the land records for the cottage where my parents died.”
“We do that every year. It’s never changed hands, and the killer is definitely not the owner or anyone who works around there. Did you speak to him?” Sir Broderick reached out and patted my hand.
My shoulders slumped and I couldn’t hide the mournful frustration in my voice. “I couldn’t catch up to him, and I lost him. I feel like I failed again.”
“You didn’t fail, Georgia. Not then; not today. You did the best you could. If it was him.”
My best wasn’t good enough. “Have you learned any more about the Gutenberg Bible?”
He looked away for a moment, and I thought he wouldn’t answer me. “Every year or two, I hear a rumor about one for sale here in London. I heard the rumor again about two weeks ago.”
I reached out and took his hands. “Maybe he left and has come back because he heard the same rumor you did. Maybe that’s why we haven’t seen him until now.”
“‘We’? Georgia, please. I rarely leave this house, and I never saw him. And I know you’ve been looking for him on every street you walk down and in every carriage that passes you since the day your parents died. Can you be absolutely certain this man you saw wasn’t very similar to your parents’ killer, and you want him to be the one?”