“Protecting the Crown is the responsibility of us all.”
Gibson’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m pleased you feel that way. Now, why are you here?”
The easiest way to catch a rat was to use bait.
“Thomas discovered there was a traitor among his colleagues. I believe he was murdered while confronting the suspect.” Daniel spoke slowly, read the silent language of Gibson’s every muscle twitch and eye movement. “The person responsible for his murder has spent the last three years secretly stalking his widow. All in a bid to find where Thomas hid the evidence of the blackguard’s crimes.”
“Evidence?” Gibson made no effort to hide his surprise. “Chambers had evidence naming the traitor?” The lord appeared thrilled rather than frightened. The reaction raised doubt over Lord Gibson’s guilt.
“So I am led to believe.”
“Then we must find this evidence as a matter of urgency.” Again, his wide eyes conveyed excitement. “I must speak with Chambers’ wife.”
“Mrs Chambers is not in possession of the evidence. That I know for a fact. With all due respect, Thomas has been dead for three years. What good is the information now?” It was only worthwhile if the traitor was still operating.
“Acting on false information makes the Crown look foolish. Wars are often fought based on nothing more than lies and manipulated facts. The person cannot go unpunished.”
While the feeling in Daniel’s gut said that Gibson was innocent, there were a couple of questions that needed answering.
“I was there the night Thomas was pulled from the Thames.” Daniel had been tracking the movements of a gang of river pirates. “His pocket watch was missing. The item has never been recovered, but I’ve been told his murderer stole it and hid it somewhere.”
Gibson narrowed his gaze but said nothing.
“I believe the same person has entered Mrs Chambers home numerous times in a bid to search for the evidence. While the intruder leaves no trace of his movements, he leaves a distinctive smell that is attributed to French cologne. Can you shed any light on the theory?”
Gibson narrowed his gaze.
A prolonged silence ensued.
“Then you should know that I am in possession of both items mentioned,” Gibson eventually said as he brushed his hand through his hair and sighed. “I don’t know why, but my instincts tell me I can trust you, Thorpe. But to repeat what I tell you now will be considered an act against the Crown.”
Daniel nodded. “I understand. You have my word.”
“The items you mentioned were sent to me in a box. Anonymously. It came with a note that said they belonged to Thomas Chambers. When we prised the back off the watch case, we found a tiny strip of paper containing various images though we have been unable to decipher them.”
“Can you describe the images to me?” Daniel’s throat grew tight. At school, Thomas had developed a secret language, a way of communicating messages without the master’s knowledge. Years later, whenever responding to Daniel’s letters, Thomas used the symbols purely as a means of amusement.
“I don’t have the paper here. If you give me a day or two, I can ask permission to study it.”
Judging by the devastation left in Daphne’s apartment and at the house in Church Street, the traitor was growing more desperate by the minute.
“Very well,” Daniel sighed.
Gibson rubbed his chin. “Do you think you might be able to decipher these images?”
“If they’re what I think they are, then yes.” His eagerness to translate the cryptic message burned in his chest. “Can you remember any of the symbols?” Even the first one would help.
“Let me think for a moment.” Gibson pulled a leaf of paper from the desk drawer, dipped the nib of his pen into the ink well and scratched away. He crossed something out and tried again. “I recall this symbol was used twice in the first word.”
Gibson turned the paper and pushed it across the desk.
Daniel leant forward, observed the small triangle with a tail curling from the bottom left point. His heart raced. The thumping in his temple proved distracting.
“And if memory serves,” Gibson continued, “the second symbol looked like the pattern made by a bird hopping through snow.”
Daniel struggled to maintain his composure, but pretended the heavy frown weighing down upon his brow was that of a man deep in thought. “Hmmm. Without seeing the symbols written together it’s difficult to be certain,” he lied. To reveal his suspicions now would be a mistake. “It would be lapse of me to make a judgement when one wrong flick of the pen might convey a different meaning entirely.”
“I understand.”