Emeline launched into a detailed description. Lavinia wrote swiftly. Joan rose and went to stand beside the desk, listening intently and offering occasional comments.
Tobias glanced at Anthony, who was watching Emeline with a grim expression. The incident in the street near Banks’s mansion had left its mark, he thought. This was no longer merely an exciting adventure so far as his new assistant was concerned.
It was perfectly natural that Anthony would be alarmed by Emeline’s close encounter with danger. But he sensed something else going on between the two young people, something beyond a gentleman’s normal concern for a lady’s safety. It seemed to him that there were some storm clouds gathering in Emeline’s and Anthony’s heretofore sunny relationship. What the devil was going on here? He made a note to discuss the matter later with Lavinia. She was far more perceptive about this sort of thing.
“From what you have told us,” Lavinia said, scribbling madly, “it would appear that, until recently, Mrs. Rushton was having an affair with Banks’s valet. For some reason she decided to let him go.”
“A lover’s quarrel?” Mrs. Dove suggested. “They argued so she turned him off without references or wages?”
Lavinia pursed her lips. “Whatever the reasons, Fitch was furious and had a motive for theft. He was later seen sneaking out of the dressing chamber with a small object wrapped in a cravat.”
Tobias clasped his hands behind his back. “If Fitch elected to take the Blue Medusa instead of some other valuable that would have been much easier to sell to a fence or a pawnshop proprietor, he may have had a particular buyer in mind. Someone he was certain would pay well for the cameo.”
Lavinia met his eyes. “Celeste Hudson.”
A charged silence settled on the room.
“Obviously we must speak to Fitch as soon as possible,” Tobias said after a moment. “Anthony, you will look for him. He probably won’t be hard to find. When you discover his whereabouts, notify me at once. I will handle the interview.”
Lavinia put down her quill. “I wish we knew more about the Blue Medusa. It might help us identify other people who have a particular interest in it.”
Joan smiled slightly. “I know of one person who could answer most of your questions about the Medusa, assuming he is willing to do so.”
Lavinia, together with Joan and Tobias, was ushered into Lord Vale’s impressive library the following morning.
The chamber was long and vast and crammed with books. It was illuminated by tall, classically proportioned windows. A circular staircase led to the upper level where yet more bookshelves were filled with leather-bound tomes. There was an air of scholarly elegance about the room that caused one to speak in hushed tones.
Unable to sit in the midst of such splendor, Lavinia began to prowl the room, examining some of the books with wonder and fascination.
Lord Vale waited until the housekeeper had poured the tea and departed. Then he leaned back in his chair and surveyed his guests with polite speculation.
“Mrs. Dove tells me that you wish to interview me in a matter that involves murder,” he said.
“I hope you are not offended.” Lavinia looked up from the study of a large volume that lay open on a table. She had been a bit anxious on this point. A gentleman of Vale’s status had every right to be extremely annoyed at the prospect of being dragged into a situation that involved something so distasteful as murder.
“Not at all.” A glint of acute interest nickered in Vale’s eyes. “As much as I enjoy my scholarly researches into antiquities, I must admit that I occasionally find myself in a mood for other, equally stimulating diversions.”
“A stimulating diversion,” Tobias repeated neutrally from his position at a window. “Well, that is certainly one way to describe an inquiry into murder.”
Vale arched one elegant brow. “I deal with the artifacts of the ancient dead most of my waking hours. A modern murder offers a pleasant change of pace.”
“It was good of you to see us,” Lavinia said.
Vale glanced at Joan. “Mrs. Dove is my friend. I am happy to oblige her in any way I can.” He turned back to Lavinia. “I see you are interested in my copy of Mr. Lysons’s Reliquiae Britannico-Romanae.”
“This is the first opportunity I have had to examine it. The volume is very expensive, you know.”
Vale smiled. “Yes, I know.”
She felt herself turn pink. A man of his wealth was no doubt quite oblivious to the cost of a beautiful book.
“Mr. Lysons’s unusual interest in British-Roman antiquities parallels my own,” Vale continued. “You are welcome to browse through the Reliquiae, Mrs. Lake.”
Lavinia studied the plate displayed in front of her. It showed several meticulously rendered drawings of British-Roman antiquities that Samuel Lysons had uncovered in his explorations of old ruins in his native Gloucestershire. A curious, U-shaped iron blade and portions of a pottery strainer were illustrated. Small, detailed works of art in themselves, the drawings had been colored in light, translucent washes.
Lysons was unusual not only because of his keen interest in British antiquities, she thought, but also because he paid close attention to the oddly fascinating, if somewhat mundane, relics of daily life. She turned to another one of the colored plates and smiled at the carefully rendered drawings of several elegantly shaped pottery bowls.
Tobias looked at Vale. “I’m certain that you are already aware that we are searching for the man who murdered Celeste Hudson. We believe that she stole the Blue Medusa shortly before her death.”
“So you are, in effect, looking for the Medusa on the assumption that the killer now has it,” Vale concluded.
“It is our hope that the bracelet will lead us to the murderer,” Lavinia explained. “It is an odd relic, by all accounts. We thought it would be useful to know more about it.”
“And about those who might have an interest in obtaining it,” Tobias added. “Mr. Nightingale implied that there are some collectors who would pay dearly for it in order to use it to apply for admission to the Connoisseurs Club.”
“Ah, yes, Nightingale. A very enterprising gentleman.” Vale sipped tea and slowly lowered his cup. “Serious collectors interested in gaining admission to the club would know that, as the founder and keeper of the museum, I have a preference for antiquities discovered on English soil. Indeed, I would be strongly disposed to look approvingly on whoever presented such an object to the club’s private collection.”
Lavinia turned away from the beautiful book on the table. “What can you tell us, sir?”
Vale put aside his cup and saucer and got to his feet. “Before I discuss the Blue Medusa, I believe I will show you the club’s private museum.”
They rose and followed him to a door set into the paneled wall on the other side of the library. Vale opened it and revealed a staircase. He led the way up the steps.
At the landing he opened another door and ushered them into a long gallery.
Lavinia saw at once that the shadowy chamber extended the entire length of the great house. The gallery was lined with glass-enclosed cases, tall wooden cabinets, and massive chests of drawers.
Statuary stood in the corners. Ancient vases, urns, and broken bits of columns littered the floor. Half a dozen stone sarcophagi were stacked against one wall.
“This is wonderful.” Lavinia moved to the nearest display case and saw row upon row of silver and gold coins bearing the portraits of ancient Roman emperors, neatly arrayed on black fabric.
Joan went to stand at a case and studied an exquisitely worked gold necklace set with a number of emeralds. “This is a new acquisition, is it not, Vale? I do not recall seeing it the last time I was here.”