got!” Mrs. Pine said with a huff. “I caught her wandering the wards without accompaniment, searching for the clever ones just like she did before. This time, I didn’t stand for it. I said I knew what she was up to, and told her to keep her grasping hands away from my children!”
No wonder Miss Spranklin had looked incensed.
“What did she say to that?” Chloe asked.
“She smiled a crocodile smile and said, ‘Prove it.’” Mrs. Pine’s lip curled. “How that woman raises my hackles... She won’t be back here, but there are plenty of orphanages to fish from.”
“We’ll shut her school down,” Chloe assured her. “Even if she takes another child in the next week, we shan’t leave any behind.”
“How?” Mrs. Pine said bleakly. “She’s right. We have no proof of wrongdoing, and she can always open another school somewhere else.”
“We’ll find a way. Evidence is everywhere, if you know where to look. The trouble is knowing where to look. May I have the contract you signed for Agnes?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Pine rummaged for a moment then produced a document. “What will it prove?”
“Nothing yet,” Chloe admitted. “But it will give us a point of comparison to the contracts signed by the parents whose children are receiving a proper education.” She sank to the floor next to Dot. “Does any other adult work with Miss Spranklin? Anyone at all?”
Dot shook her head.
“Argh,” said Mrs. Pine. “There’s no one we can turn against her!”
“No,” Chloe said calmly. “This is good news. Without an assistant or secretary, Miss Spranklin must deal with administrative tasks herself. Whatever written accounts exist are still there inside the school. And where there’s paper...” She snapped her fingers and produced the calling card she’d nicked from Miss Spranklin’s reticule. “...I can steal it.”
Mrs. Pine covered Dot’s ears. “You can steal her ledgers?”
Chloe nodded. “Once I know where to find them.”
“I can still hear you,” Dot sang out.
“Good.” Chloe waved Mrs. Pine’s hands away from Dot’s ears. “Does Miss Spranklin have an office?”
Dot nodded. “It’s locked all of the time, even when she’s in it.”
Mrs. Pine looked disappointed.
Chloe was thrilled.
“Perfect.” She ruffled Dot’s hair. “Now we know exactly where to find our evidence. All I have to do is gain access to the office.”
“Weren’t you listening?” said Mrs. Pine. “The papers are kept under lock and key.”
“Pah,” said Chloe. “A locked door has never stopped a Wynchester.”
Chapter 6
“I’m fine,” Bean insisted. “Or I will be, after I lie down. It may be influenza. You and the others should keep your distance until I recover, so that you don’t catch it.”
Of course he wouldn’t be his usual self whilst fighting influenza. He didn’t need her hovering; he needed her patience.
Chloe sighed. “Very well. But if you’re not improved in a few days...”
“I’ll have a quick rest, and you’ll see the difference,” he promised.
Troubled, Chloe watched as Bean made his way to his bedchamber with obvious difficulty and closed the door behind him.
Lie down was not something Bean did.
Chloe wasn’t certain she had ever seen him ill.
She’d suffered influenza a few times herself, so she knew from experience how exhausting it could be. And she knew Bean was getting older. He hadn’t been young when he’d rescued her and the others almost twenty years ago. He was old enough to be her grandfather.
“Chloe!” came a loud voice behind her.
She turned to see her sister Marjorie fly down the stairs from her third-floor studio with a sheaf of papers in her hand.
“Six letters of reference,” Marjorie announced with pride. “Each written in a different hand on varying qualities and types of paper.”
“And if Miss Spranklin writes to these addresses?” Chloe asked as she accepted the small stack.
Marjorie rolled her eyes. “Let her. All of the directions are to far-flung villages nowhere near a stagecoach route. By the time word comes back, we’ll have completed the mission.”
“Excellent.” Chloe tucked the letters into a wicker basket. “See that the kitchen sends up tea and hot soup for Bean. Other than sustenance, he has requested no visitors until he recovers from the influenza.”
Marjorie made a face.
“I know,” Chloe said. “We all feel the same. Have Graham send for a doctor to be safe. Perhaps the rest of you could stay close, in case Bean needs you?”
“Of course,” said Marjorie. “Now go. Don’t be late to your interview.”
Chloe hurried down the stairs and into the waiting coach. The Wynchester mews contained several types of carriages. This was the one that looked like a common hackney.