The Sugared Game - K.J. Charles Page 0,24

me know it. Hello, darling.”

Will bit back What the blazes are you doing here? “Hello Phoebe. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Do you have the jacket?” Kim asked. Will tossed him the parcel. Kim unfastened the string, and produced a white jacket panelled with green and pink stripes: the livery of the High-Low Club. Beaumont had brought it to the shop early this morning in a very furtive manner before sloping off home to bed.

“Oh dear,” Phoebe said. “I’d forgotten quite how bad it was. Goodness, Kim, must you?”

“I regret I have but one hideous garment to wear for my country.” Kim stripped off his own coat and slipped it on. “A bit large, but better that than tight. Peacock should be able to adjust it. Right, shall we get on? As per Beaumont, the High-Low Club remains open until the small hours on an entirely irregular schedule. Fuller, the floor manager, lives above the shop, as it were, in a room at the front of the building on what remains of the top floor, and closes the place up exceedingly securely, with bolts, locks, and metal shutters. Mrs. Skyrme lets herself in at any point between eleven and two; the cleaners come at three. All together that makes for an extremely unpromising target; I imagine that’s no accident. So—”

“Hold on, hold on,” Will said. All their collaboration in shady activities so far had taken place in private. Speaking in front of Phoebe felt exceedingly exposed. “Are we going through the plan now?”

“Of course we are,” Kim said. “As I was saying, the High-Low is well protected against burglary, so I don’t want to burgle it.”

Phoebe pouted. “Oh, darling, what? You promised.”

“I’m not going to burgle it because I’m going in through an open door,” Kim said patiently. “The aim, ideally, is to get in and out unobserved.”

“Pretending to be a waiter. Why not a guest?” Phoebe asked.

“Because Skyrme and Fuller observe their guests. A uniform is a good way not to have one’s face looked at.”

“Except by other men in the same uniform,” Will pointed out.

“A risk, I grant you, but I’m hoping you and Phoebe will mitigate it for me.”

“Oh, am I still doing it?” Phoebe perked up. “Marvellous. I have such a good plan.”

“For what?” Will asked with foreboding.

“My grand entrance, darling. I shall come in like what’s-his-name, that delightful shiny person, though probably not in purple or gold. Purple is Kim’s colour and I really think that in gold, with my hair, I’d look like a candlestick, don’t you?”

“The Assyrian,” Kim murmured.

“What’s that?”

“The Assyrian. Came down like the wolf on the fold. It was his cohorts who were gleaming in purple and gold, though.”

“I dare say you’re right,” Phoebe told him with motherly patience. “The point is that I shall make the most enormous spectacle of myself and attract everyone’s attention from you, which I consider a good deed. You look like a hurdy-gurdy man.”

“You wound me,” Kim said. “Then while all eyes, particularly those of Fuller and Skyrme, are drawn her way, I shall sidle upstairs unnoticed and, I trust, let myself into the office.”

“What if it’s locked?” Will asked.

“I hope that shouldn’t be an obstacle. I’ve been taking lessons, since I realised last year it was a skill I needed to master.” Kim’s eyes flicked to Will’s, just for a fraction of a second but it was enough. Will knew he was thinking of the endless minutes when he’d been chained up in a Zodiac hideaway, and Kim had probed the lock of the manacle with a wire in an effort to free him. He hadn’t believed it would work; he’d almost wept when the lock clicked.

Kim had come to get him when he’d thought he was a goner. He’d cared, and the memory was a punch to Will’s chest.

“So you’ll let yourself in while Skyrme is busy downstairs,” he said, trying to keep his voice businesslike. “Sounds a bit tight. And how do you get out?”

“Carefully,” Kim said. “That’s where you may or may not come in. I don’t know how long I’ll need, or what the situation will be on the floor, so I will require a look-out to intervene if another distraction is required. If it isn’t you can simply have an enjoyable evening’s dancing.”

“What sort of intervention?”

“Whatever seems appropriate. Use your ingenuity.”

“Right. Phoebe, are you sure about getting involved in this?”

“Well, of course, darling, why not?”

“Because it’s not safe,” Will said with all the patience of which he was possessed. “Skyrme is