The Girl in the Steel Corset - By Kady Cross Page 0,66

daylight because of the attention they drew. Velocycles were relatively new forms of transportation and were quite costly, hence they immediately singled out the driver as a person of wealth. Not only that, but each cycle in his stable had been customized for the person it was intended for, making them even more eye-catching. People already gossiped about the Duke of Greythorne and the company he kept.

All that aside, however, velocycles were the faster way to get about the city, and that trumped gossip.

They left their cycles behind the long, elegant white building, disabling their engines so they could not produce steam and therefore were useless to anyone who might entertain the idea of stealing one or both of them. Although, unless they had the strength of Finley or Sam, he doubted anyone could successfully make off with one.

“What’s going on with Sam?” Jasper asked.

Griffin tossed a startled glance in his direction. “He’s angry.”

“I got that,” the American replied with a chuckle. “He sure doesn’t seem to like Miss Finley. No more than you like Jack Dandy.”

Griffin didn’t respond to that. There was nothing to say that would make Jasper believe he didn’t care about Finley and Dandy. “Sam’s my best mate,” he said. “And I don’t know him anymore.”

“He’ll come ’round,” Jasper replied as they approached the door.

“You really believe that?”

The American shrugged. “It might take a good boot to the arse first.” He grinned. “I volunteer to do the kickin’.”

Griffin laughed, and when Jasper opened the museum door, he walked in first, still smiling.

The wax museum was no longer owned by the Tussaud family, so Griffin asked to speak to the person in charge, and when the gentleman appeared, introduced himself and Jasper. The gentleman, whose name was Mr. White, was quite beside himself at having a duke in his establishment. When Griffin told him they would like to see where the Victoria figure had been taken from, Mr. White didn’t hesitate. It was one of the advantages to being the highest rank below a prince—one was rarely, if ever, questioned or denied anything.

The curator led them through the museum to where the “royal” exhibit was. Griffin had been there before and wasn’t captivated by the amazing likenesses of modern and historical figures. Jasper on the other hand had a difficult time keeping his head still; his gaze jumped from statue to statue.

Griffin shot him an amused glance. “We can stop by the Chamber of Horrors before we leave if you want.”

The cowboy merely nodded, his attention already distracted by another lifelike display.

“Obviously we’ve had this exhibit closed since the theft,” Mr. White informed them. “I don’t have to tell you it’s been very inconvenient given that it’s Her Majesty’s diamond jubilee.”

“Yes,” Griffin agreed. “I assume it would be very inconvenient given all the tourists visiting the city.”

“Indeed. Fortunately, there are always those who will pay the admission fee simply to see the site where the figure was when it was stolen. Humanity, I’m sure I do not have to tell Your Grace, is a strange animal.”

On that point Griffin couldn’t agree more, and he said as much as Mr. White led them directly to the royal display. Prince Albert’s likeness stood alone, forever frozen as he looked at the time of his death. It would be odd to see this man, who had been in his prime, standing next to the queen as she looked now.

“Did anyone witness the theft?” Griffin asked Mr. White.

“No. We have a night watchman, but the poor man was knocked unconscious by the thieving wretch. Took a nasty blow that split his head open.”

The curator had a strange expression on his face—as though he were working over a puzzle. For a second, Griffin wondered if the watchman had been privy to the theft, but he quickly discarded that theory. Stealing a waxwork figure was hardly worth the loss of a position, and if he’d been paid to let the thief in, it was unlikely he would have sustained such a serious injury, if one at all.

“Was anything else taken?”

“No. That is what led Scotland Yard to believe it was nothing more than a harmless prank.”

“I doubt your watchman would agree with that assumption,” Griffin remarked. “Could you give us his direction? I’d like to speak to him when we’re done.”

Another benefit of dukedom was rarely being questioned or told no. Mr. White was obviously curious as to why Griff would want to speak to the man—what Griff’s interest was in this whole