A Wicked Conceit (Lady Darby Mysteries #9) - Anna Lee Huber Page 0,40

studied me with interest, making me fear I hadn’t effectively concealed my discomfort with this topic. “Aye, I’m aware o’ the theft, but Lord Kirkcowan insists a number o’ those pieces were soon after reclaimed.”

This news caused me a pang of misgiving.

“Only to have them stolen yet again?” Gage’s voice dripped with skepticism.

“Aye, I asked the same question myself. But numerous witnesses claim to have seen Lady Kirkcowan wearin’ the gems as late as November.”

“Just before she and their children left for her father’s home in Lanarkshire,” I noted.

The glint in Maclean’s eye told me he was also already aware of this detail and its ramifications. “Aye.”

I frowned, recalling my first encounter with Lady Kirkcowan. “How can we be sure the jewels weren’t paste? Some of the best imitations are difficult to detect. And I know for a fact that a paste version existed of the diamond and sapphire necklace Gage mentioned. I saw Lady Kirkcowan wearing it myself.”

“And yet Lord Kirkcowan insists they were real, and is outraged by the suggestion that a man o’ his status would lie.”

“So, he expects you to take him at his word and, I imagine, has the superintendent backing him, ordering you to abandon that line of inquiry,” Gage surmised, not unsympathetically.

“That aboot sums it up.” He reached for one of the last scones, bitterness twisting his mouth. “But that’s usually hoo it goes when even a hint o’ suspicion falls on a member o’ your class. Which is where you come in.”

I knew that Sergeant Maclean didn’t blame us for this double standard, but I felt the shame of it nonetheless. “I could write to Lady Kirkcowan,” I offered. “She would know whether the gems she wore in November before her departure from Edinburgh were real or fake. And I believe, under the circumstances, she would tell me the truth.”

If those gems had been real, it would also give me the opportunity to find out why she had allowed them to fall back into her husband’s hands after I’d risked so much to obtain them for her. I’d even contrived with Bonnie Brock Kincaid to have the job done, granting him a percentage of the spoils if his gang stole the Kirkcowans’ jewelry and placed the rest into my hands. When I’d then passed them secretly to Lady Kirkcowan, urging her to conceal them in a place her husband would never find them, I’d expected her to save the jewels for a moment when she and her children were in dire circumstances.

“I’d be grateful,” Maclean replied, his gaze once again turning too keen for my liking.

I nodded. “I’ll do so as soon as we return home.”

“Do you have any suspicions who might be responsible for the thefts, if they’re both, in fact, legitimate?” Gage queried.

“Aye,” Maclean pronounced around a bite of scone, chewing and swallowing before he spoke. “Bonnie Brock Kincaid.”

I’m not sure why I was surprised, for he was already uppermost in my suspicions. I supposed it was the certainty behind Maclean’s tone and the stony look in his eyes. “You think he’s behind the jewelry thefts?”

“I ken it. But thus far I’ve no proof, other than my gut and the knowledge that Kincaid’s men are the only ones wi’ the skills to snatch such a haul o’ baubles wi’oot raisin’ the alarm until they’ve long gone.”

It was true. Bonnie Brock employed specialists in a number of areas—be it for their skills in lockpicking, stealth, surveillance, scheming, or fencing stolen goods. These men recognized that by throwing their lot in with Brock, they could focus on the tasks at which they excelled and be at less risk of getting caught—and better protected if they were—and still enjoy a fair share of the profits from their efforts. The members of his gang were the likeliest suspects for the job. They had certainly proven capable and culpable of such crimes in the past. But I couldn’t halt the suspicion that this was all a shade too convenient.

Bonnie Brock was nothing if not shrewd and perceptive, and now of all times was not the moment to draw any greater attention or ire from the police and the nobility by perpetuating such thefts. He had told me once that it was a dangerous game angering the wealthy and influential, and so he had always taken care to neither prick their pride nor execute his crimes against them too closely together. Nothing was more risky than giving the noblemen and gentlemen a reason to shift their