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something like that.
Somebody smacked the back of his head in with that
candlestick.’
    The boy’s head turned, flicking a glance
towards the candlestick. ‘How unpleasant.’
    Something about the voice – and the words –
made Mr. Lampforth pause. ‘I say,’ he said, suddenly suspicious.
‘You don’t sound like a servant.’
    ‘Don’t I?’ the lad sounded suddenly
cautious.
    ‘No. Far from it. I think it’s my turn to
ask some questions. Just who the devil are you?’
    ‘Well,’ the boy temporized, ‘I’m actually…’
There was another pause. Clearly the young fellow was trying to
come up with a reason for being there. Charlie gave the newcomer a
searching glance. It was impossible to see the boy’s face, the
beaver hat throwing his face into shadow. Abruptly he took a step
forward, snatching the hat off the head beneath.
    ‘Excuse me!’
    Charlie paused, taken aback, when a wealth
of golden-red curls tumbled down to frame a very feminine face. His
jaw dropped in surprise. ‘Well I’ll be damned! You’re a
female.’
    The girl colored rather
prettily. ‘Apparently so. That was not very well mannered of
you.’
    He collected himself with an effort. ‘Well
beg pardon, I’m sure, but I wanted to see who I was dealing with. I
wasn’t expecting a female. What are you doing here?’
    She hesitated again. ‘I am after something.
What about you?’
    ‘Same thing,’ he admitted. ‘Sutton bought up
a friend’s gambling debts and was holding them over his head. I
came to get them back.’
    ‘Steal them back, you mean?’
    ‘Well… now that you mention it I suppose
that was exactly what I was doing. You?’
    ‘I came to try and discover a necklace that
Lord Sutton stole from a relative of mine,’ she confessed.
    ‘A thief as well, was he?’ Charlie couldn’t
find it in him to be surprised. Thieving seemed well within the
scope of Arthur Sutton’s sins. He may have been born a gentleman –
although rumor had it that wasn’t entirely the case – but the man
had the instincts of a highwayman.
    They eyed each other for a long moment.
    ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be too dreadful to
look for whatever it is that we’re after, would it?’ his companion
said, after a moment. She cast a glance at the oblivious figure on
the floor. ‘I do not mean to be insensible of the gentleman’s… ah,
situation. But I would very much dislike it if the necklace was
discovered by those who must necessarily go through his
things.’
    Charlie welcomed this idea. Thank God the
girl wasn’t the hysterical type. Most females he knew would be
having the vapors by now, demanding hartshorn and a physician or a
week’s rest in the country.
    ‘Capital idea! Where shall we begin?’
    She looked around thoughtfully. ‘The desk?
Although I have been doing some research and I believe that most
thieves like to keep their ill-gotten gains in a strongbox of some
kind. Usually cleverly concealed in a wall or suchlike. If you take
the desk, I’ll investigate behind the pictures.’
    ‘Right-o.’ Charlie set to with a will,
delighted he seemed to have encountered somebody with a good head
on her shoulders. He would never have thought to look behind
pictures but it made sense that the fellow would have employed some
wretched hidey-hole or another. They searched in silence for a time
before the girl spoke.
    ‘Did you see anybody coming or going from
the place?’
    ‘No, but the front door was ajar,’ Charlie
replied, trying the bottom drawer of the desk. It was locked. He
found a letter opener on the desk, a fancy dagger that hailed from
exotic climes. Inserting it in the top of the drawer next to the
lock, he thrust down sharply and there came the splinter of wood.
‘That was how I got in.’
    ‘It was closed when I tried it.’ She was
lifting the edge of another frame, peering behind it.
    ‘I must have shut it after me.’
    Pulling the drawer open, he peered hopefully
inside. There were several leather bound folders