Page 144

“There was nothing wrong with it. I told her so, and she insisted that I knew nothing of such matters. Something is amiss, I am convinced of it.”

Judith turned the brooch over. A small hinge lay beneath the setting, almost invisible among the decorative gold-work. She pressed it gently with her thumbnail. The back of the brooch shifted.

Miss Hammond gave a little gasp. “Oh, dear.”

Judith examined the opening. Beneath the garnets was a narrow cavity, scarcely large enough to hold a tightly folded scrap of paper. Judith opened the compartment fully. It was empty, but a fragment of pale blue paper had caught beneath the hinge. She removed it with the point of a letter knife.

The scrap bore three words in a neat, compressed hand.

Before the collection.

Judith’s pulse quickened. For several moments she studied the brooch without speaking.

Miss Hammond watched her anxiously. “Am I correct? Is there something amiss?”

“I believe your sister has been using this for something other than ornament.”

Miss Hammond’s face drained of colour. “Oh, Miss Finch, surely not?”

Judith looked at her gently.

“Has Lady Dunsmore asked you to carry letters or parcels to Mr. Pearce before?”

“Yes, several times. I thought nothing of it. Augusta is forever sending things to be repaired.”

“Did she ever ask you to collect anything from the servants without informing Sir Lionel?”

Miss Hammond hesitated. “There were one or two letters. She said they concerned her investments and must be handled discreetly.”

“Who delivered them?”

“I do not know. Sometimes a maid brought them. At other times they were left in the little cabinet near the west staircase.”

“The cabinet in the recess beyond the old gallery?”

“Yes. Augusta said it was seldom used and therefore a convenient place to leave things without troubling the household. She instructed me to collect whatever I found in the upper drawer, but never to disturb anything else.”

“Did you ever ask who placed the letters there?”

“No. I asked once, but my sister told me that I need not concern myself with the arrangements.”

Judith felt a chill which had nothing to do with the unlit fire. The west staircase connected with the concealed passages. She set down the brooch. “Miss Hammond, I need you to tell me everything you remember.”

For the next quarter of an hour, Judith listened while the nervous woman described a succession of errands which, considered individually, appeared perfectly innocent. There had been parcels for the jeweller, letters left in unusual places, instructions to avoid the main entrance, and occasional payments to servants who had performed some unspecified service.

Lady Dunsmore had explained each arrangement with such confident irritation that her sister had never thought to question it. Judith might not have questioned it herself had she not known about Mallory. One detail, however, troubled her more than the rest. “You said your sister keeps a small account book?”

“Yes. She records her private expenses.”

“Where does she keep it?”

“In her writing case.”

“Have you seen it recently?”

“Yes, yesterday. She was most distressed because she thought she had misplaced it.”

“Did she find it?”