Gemma reached over and set her hand on his. “Fitting, i’n’it, that she’s your final rescue? Saved her from the very person you’re now escaping, who she worked to save others from.”
He hadn’t thought of it that way, but she was right. Since he had to leave behind his rescue efforts in London, this was a fine note to end his work on.
“Chelmsford’s house has been shut and the staff sent off,” Fletcher said. “The Mastiff’s crowing about it, saying he drove the man from Town.”
“Any idea where the baron might have retreated to?” Barnabus asked.
Fletcher shook his head. “Theory is he’s rushing to his country home in Stamford. But some think he’s still in London somewhere.”
“And the Mastiff’s the reason this toff swell is in hiding?” Gemma asked.
“The Mastiff’s working to undermine the role Lord Chelmsford played in a murder trial ages ago in Radlett,” Barnabus said. “We aren’t certain why.”
“The murder of William Weare?” Gemma asked.
She’d pieced that together quickly. “Yes, Chelmsford represented one of the co-conspirators.”
“There’s a waxwork of the man what did the deed, John Thurtell, at Madame Tussaud’s. I read the information there. A gruesome crime, that. Did Lord Chelmsford stand council for the one that walked away or the one that were sent to Botany Bay?”
“Botany Bay.” Fletcher was watching her closely. “What all did you learn about the case?”
“People thought the punishments of them two should’ve been the other way ’round, that the one that sailed to Australia should’ve stayed in England a free man and kept his inn running.”
His inn.Barnabus spoke up. “Sorokin told me he once forged a letter of recommendation for a woman who’d fallen on difficulties and was hoping to find dignified work at an inn like her mother had.”
“Hunt’s inn?” Fletcher asked.
Barnabus nodded. “We both thought that a rather remarkablecoincidence since Hunt was connected to Chelmsford and the case the Mastiff was focused on.”
In near-perfect unison, Fletcher and Gemma said, “You don’t believe in coincidences.”
No. He didn’t.
Fletcher slouched in his chair. “Every time I think this puzzle cain’t get more complicated, it goes and does just that.”
“Is Martin still safe?” Barnabus asked.
“He is, and he’s recovering. We’re hopeful he’ll pull through.”
“And the others who were injured in the attack at Lowry’s surgery?”
“Healing.”
“Sorokin and the children?” Barnabus had a long list of people he was concerned about.
“Back in hiding now that the girl’s well.”
Gemma’s gaze held unfocused worry.
He took her hand. “Is something worrying you, love?”
“What could possibly be gnawing at my mind?” The dryness in her tone was matched by the shake of her head. “The bloke I love more than anyone else is soon to be nailed into an eternity box under my instructions, and if the plan I’ve hatched for getting him out don’t work perfect, he might be buried alive. And all this is happening in a city under siege by a merciless killer who has enlisted the help of my merciless family. What about that would worry a person?”
“Would you repeat the part about loving me more than anyone else?”
She leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “I do, you know.”
“I’m pleased to hear that because I have something extremely important to ask you.”