understand it…’
Deb opened the lid of the case and picked up one of the remaining glasses. She had never seen them properly since it was only by accident that she had bid for them in the first place and it was Ross who had paid and brought them home. Now she turned the object over in her hands, admiring the quality of the crystal and the delicate engraving of a seagull on one side. It was beautifully executed, caught in full flight, with the wind beneath its wings.
‘The glass is very fine and the workmanship exquisite,’ she said. ‘I imagine they must be worth far more than Ross paid for them.’
‘I expect they are worth a lot to a collector,’ Olivia agreed, taking out the second of the six and examining it. ‘Ross said that John Norton approached him with a view to buying them, but as I had already expressed an interest in starting a collection, Ross would not sell.’
Deb frowned. ‘But Sir John was at the auction. He could have purchased them then.’
‘Maybe he was caught by surprise when you outbid him,’ Olivia said drily. ‘Look at the engraving on this anchor, Deb! Is it not the most delicate thing? An artist must have great skill to create such work.’
Deb bent her head and studied the picture. There was something about it that stirred a memory, although she could not place it. She looked at the engravings on the other glasses. They all carried two pictures, one on each side of the glass. The one with the seagull had a tree on the other side. The one engraved with an anchor had the sun on its reverse, and there was another with a ship, that also bore a picture of a small cottage.
‘That one is rather attractive, is it not?’ Olivia said, with a smile. ‘The cottage looks very pretty…I cannot recall the pictures on the other glasses but they were all very finely drawn. There were twelve glasses originally, but the thief must have got away with six of them.’
Something clicked in Deb’s memory and instead of the glass in her hand she saw a sheet of paper with cipher symbols on it. She put the engraving down quickly and turned to her sister.
‘Liv-’ she began.
The door opened.
‘Lord Richard Kestrel has called to see you, madam,’ Ford announced. His tone was slightly more quavering than normal, although whether that was due to the shock of the previous night, or the whisky still coursing through his blood, Deb was unsure.
Olivia was smiling. ‘Oh, show him in, Ford! And pray send to the long paddock to tell Lord Marney that Lord Richard is here. Lord Richard!’ She advanced towards him, hand outstretched. ‘How kind of you to call. You can see that we are not in as parlous a state as last night’s reports may have led you to believe.’
‘I am glad to see that the experience has not overset you, ma’am,’ Richard said, a twinkle in his eyes. He bowed to her and then came across to Deb, taking her hand.
‘Good morning, Deborah. How are you?’
‘I am very well, thank you, my lord,’ Deb said, feeling a quite-out-of-proportion pleasure that now they were betrothed, albeit fictitiously, he could address her in so personal a manner. ‘It is fortunate that you are here,’ she added, ‘for there is something I need to speak to you about. Urgently. In private,’ she amended, for good measure.
Richard gave her a quizzical look. ‘Is there?’
‘Yes,’ Deb said. ‘Perhaps you would care to come with me to the conservatory and inspect Olivia’s collection of Buxus sempervirens? They are very fine.’
‘Are they?’ Richard said. ‘Then I cannot wait to see them.’ He turned to Olivia. ‘If you would excuse us, Lady Marney?’
‘Of course,’ Olivia said, smiling widely. ‘Since you are betrothed, there can be no objection to you spending a little time alone together. I had no notion that you were so interested in my horticultural work, Deb!’ she added. ‘You must let me show you my cuttings from the Campsis radicans.’
Deb managed to look suitably grateful. ‘Dear Liv, I should be delighted. Just now, however, I do not wish to delay Lord Richard, who is no doubt anxious to be away to discuss horseflesh with Ross.’
‘Of course,’ Olivia said sweetly.
Deb grabbed Richard’s arm and hurried him out into the hall, closing the door behind them. ‘There is something that I need to tell you about the burglary,’ she said.
She looked around. One of the housemaids was polishing the big windows by the front door, her hand moving slowly as she gawped through the glass at the groom who was leading a horse through its paces on the gravel sweep outside.
‘We cannot talk here,’ she added. ‘We had best go and see these miniature box trees, or whatever it is that Olivia has in the conservatory.’
‘That sounds like the sort of invitation I would issue,’ Richard said, with a grin, but there was a keen expression in his eyes as he took her arm and they walked down the corridor into the cool green space of the conservatory beyond. Deb unlatched the door and drew him inside, taking a seat on the rustic wooden bench and gesturing to Richard to do the same. All pretence of indolence had dropped from his manner and he watched her with acute interest.
‘What is it you have to tell me?’ he asked softly.
‘Olivia has a collection of glasses that are engraved with the same symbols that were on the secret message,’ Deb said, trying not to allow the disturbing effects of his proximity to distract her from her tale. ‘I saw them for the first time this morning and recognised the symbols at once-’ She broke off at a soft oath from Richard.
‘Tell me the entire story, please,’ he said tersely.
Deb did so, trying conscientiously to relate it in order and leave nothing out. She told him how she had accidentally bid for the glasses at the Customs House auction, how Sir John Norton had bought a second set and tried to purchase the first from Ross and how half of them had been stolen the previous night. Richard listened and ventured no comment, but Deb could tell he was weighing her words with sharp perception.
‘But I cannot understand the connection with the cipher,’ she finished. ‘Why were the same symbols on the glasses as on the message? It makes no sense.’ She spread her hands. ‘No one would use engraved glasses to pass secret messages! It would be far too cumbersome a process and take too long.’
Richard nodded. ‘That’s true. Most messages are undoubtedly written and passed by hand, like the sheet you found in the book. A spy network might, however, use engraved glasses as the master cipher.’ He drove his hands into his pockets and got to his feet, pacing the floor thoughtfully.
‘I do not understand,’ Deb ventured, after a moment.
Richard shot her a look. ‘In a written code, the letter A, for example, might in reality represent the letter P. You would go through your secret message substituting all the As for Ps and the same with every other pair of letters, to spell out the message. But this is a pictorial code and until today we had no idea what the pictures meant. But it could be very simple.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘You said that each glass bears two pictures. Suppose, for example, that this is the master you need to break the code. A glass with a picture of the sea and a picture of the sun…’
‘Oh!’ Deb’s face cleared. ‘You mean that in the message, the symbol of the sun might represent the sea.’
‘Precisely. The pictures are in pairs. If we went back to our secret message and saw that the first symbol was of the sea, we could conclude that the sign we need to replace it with is that of the sun.’
Deb pulled a face. She was struggling. Cryptography evidently was not her strong point. ‘It still does not make sense, however,’ she complained. ‘What does the picture of the sun actually mean?’
‘Daylight?’ Richard hazarded. ‘There might be a corresponding one of the moon to represent night-time.’
‘There is!’ Deb said excitedly. ‘There was a crescent moon and a full moon!’
Richard smiled at her enthusiasm. ‘How gratifying. I do believe that we may at last be close to understanding the code.’
‘Except that we only have six of the glasses,’ Deb said, deflating, ‘and no way of knowing how many there were in the first place.’
Richard’s eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps that is something we could work on from the other end,’ he said. ‘Find the engraver. I doubt it can be anyone locally, for that might draw too much attention. London seems more likely. I shall send word to Lucas.’
Deb laughed. ‘Or we could find the other glasses! Procure invitations to all the houses in Midwinter and see who is using engraved glasses for their wine!’
