jack of diamonds

Chapter 16 (Skullduggery) pt 4 (3rd instalment)

iv

“How are we supposed to keep track of our friend Mr. Spencer over there, once he puts his mask back on? There’s four other Zorros out there,” Nigel pointed out.

Sonia looked at the three other Zorros seated around the table, and smiled. As far as she was concerned, there was no comparison. Artemus Spencer was tall, his shoulders broad, and his stomach flat. One of the three Zorros was at least a foot shorter; the second one had a large stomach hanging over his belt; the last one didn't even have a sword. Only Spencer was wearing a sword, she noticed for the first time. She wondered if he knew how to use it.

As the youngest son born into this world, it wouldn’t be unreal to think he may have taken up fencing as a pastime.

Her late husband had taken to boxing.

It’s like fox hunting. They all ride and go fox hunting.

“If you can't spot the difference between the four of them, I suggest you give up on your dreams of becoming an inspector, and stick to being an artist.”

“That hurt," he smiled. "And what about Chernetsov, then?”

“Chernetsov? We leave him alone. We’ll watch him--that's fine--but we can’t be seen approaching him. Agreed?”

“At least we agree on that. The last thing we need is Bile on our asses accusing us of compromising his case. What about Saunders? The Pig Man? Do we tell him about Saunders?”

“I doubt it. At least, not right now, no.”

“Why not?”

“It's just like you said, he’ll accuse us of trying to compromise his case.”

“So we watch Spencer, instead?”

“We watch Spencer.”

“You don’t expect him to do anything, do you?”

“I think we’ll know if he tries to give us the slip,” she smiled, taking a sip of her wine and enjoying it.

“And why would he do that? He knows we’re watching him,” Nigel pointed out.

“Once again. I'm sorry. These costumes might as well have lights on them telling everyone who we are. 'Constable! Constable!' " she cried out in a mocking voice. "The Baron’s obviously told Chernetsov who we are. Ashcroft’s wife—”

“Jennifer. People around here call her Jenny,” he smiled. "She's quite loved by everyone."

“That's good to know. I don't think it matters. But I’ve been watching her, and she’s been watching us for quite some time.”

“And do you think she’s mixed up in this?”

“Do you mean because of the hankie? Or maybe I should say, the semen? What do you think? Who dropped it? Her? And still fresh, you said. Was it her husband? Or maybe our thief?”

“It’s not like I picked it up from behind the bed. It was right there, in plain sight. Do you really think our thief dropped it himself while he watched her through the window? He'd have to have come in through the window, carrying it. Why not just drop it outside?”

Sonia turned to look at him. “That sounds like something a man would do. Men are such pigs.”

“You seem shocked just considering it. If that’s not the answer, what are the implications you’re considering? Is it an impropriety?”

“An impropriety?" she said with a laugh. "Such as? Or maybe I should ask you what your idea of an impropriety is, first?”

“Must you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Say out loud what both of us are obviously thinking?”

“It could have been her husband,” she pointed out, but not sounding convinced.

“I don't think that's even a possibility.”

“I’d like to think it is, otherwise, she's guilty of more than just an indelicate indiscretion. Adultery's still a crime, last I checked.”

“Have you met her husband? Well, to be honest, you’d have to have met him before the beating he suffered.”

“What does that matter?”

“Maybe I should just rephase it; it’s not something a lady does willingly, is it?”

“What isn't? And why say it like that? My God! In the words of Lady Macbeth: ‘Unsex me now’.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think, as women, we don’t fantasize about sex?”

“And now you're trying to shock me?”

“Shock you? I’m simply telling you that a man isn't the only one who thinks about sex.”

“This is getting us nowhere,” Nigel said, turning his head and looking out over the dance floor. He listened to the jazz band, admiring the woman’s voice, wishing he had a sketch book so as to capture the moment—the lights, the music, the sight—all of it.

“You're right, it's definitely not getting us anywhere . So why don't you let me handle the delicate nature of the questions? You obviously have no experience when it comes to the fairer sex.”

“What about talking to Agatha Guernsey, then?” he asked after a moment, turning his attention back to her.

“The sister-in-law? What do you think she’ll tell us?"

"She was with him, remember? Charlie said he saw the two of them together."

"The woman’s so obviously smitten with our Mr. Spencer, she’d never believe us if we told her he was our lead suspect. How do you think she’ll react when we tell her he’s the man that went through her drawers?”

“Is he a suspect, then?”

“Why are you even asking me that? Who else, in this room, could it be?” she added, looking about the room.

“He admitted he lied to us in order to protect his friend, O'Dowd. That doesn't make him guilty. The horse was obviously no longer on the property. It was probably wandering around, just as he says. If we’d have found the horse at O'Dowd’s farm, he’s right, it would’ve amounted to an accusation of theft. I’m sure anyone would’ve done the same thing under similar circumstances.”

“They could have brought it back that same night, though. Why wait until morning? He admitted his friend knew who owned the horse. And he didn't say anything about the card, did he? Not until we asked him about it—I mean, after he gave it to us in the first place.”

“Do you hear how ridiculous it all sounds? He gave the card to us, willingly. He could’ve easily tossed it aside, on the lane, and not said a word about it, but he didn't.”

“What do you think it means?” she asked.

“Are you asking me if it's our thief’s calling card?”

“What if it's a message?”

“Put there by the real thief?”

“For him?”

“Which is why he’s still our best suspect. You believe he either knows who the thief is, or he’s the thief himself.”

“Does he look like he could scale the outside walls of a manor house?”

“Do you think any of the other Zorros here are capable?” he smiled. “Have you even seen Zorro at the cinema? Have you seen what the man can do?”