before the screaming commenced. He might have done it before that.' Stokes chuckled at my expression. 'But truth to tell, Captain, I do not believe he did. If Colonel Brandon wished to kill a man, he'd call him out and face him in a duel, not quietly shove a knife into him. A question of honor, don't you know.'
Honor, yes. I agreed with him. But I thought of the missing document Colonel Naveau wanted. Something dangerous was going on here that might make a man throw honor to the wind.
'Of course,' Stokes went on, 'I might have done it. Oh, good form,' he shouted at Knighton as the man began punching his opponent.
'You might have,' I said. 'But why would you?'
'Because I owed Mr. Turner a ruinous amount of money.' Stokes kept his gaze on the boxers. 'Should have learned my lesson when I lost to him at the races, but I wagered on the outcome of a cockfight, and lost heavily. Not my fault. I could not have foreseen that the champion bird would expire of apoplexy so soon into the match. The lad had a nose for wagering. Saved my pocket when he died. But I didn't kill the chap. I'd have paid up. I always do.'
Stokes was just ingenuous enough for me to believe him. He seemed a straightforward, no-nonsense sort of gentleman, one who might be persuaded to bet on a ridiculous outcome but turn over his money amiably when he lost.
Then again, Turner was dead.
'So,' Stokes said, 'if I didn't murder the chap, and Brandon didn't murder him, who did?'
'That is the question.' I returned my attention to the boxers. The gentleman called Knighton had just landed another good facer on his opponent. I felt relieved I had not bet against him. 'And at this moment, I have no bloody idea who.'
Grenville invited me back to Grosvenor Street for brandy and hot coffee to chase away the chill of the evening after we left Gentleman Jackson's. I readily accepted.
The Knighton fellow had done well. I'd bet on him in a round against a tall, muscular boxer, and won a few guineas. I resisted the temptation to let it all go again and, flushed with success, accompanied Grenville home.
Now in his upstairs sitting room, the one that housed curios from his travels, Grenville reclined in a Turkish chair, clad in slippers and a suit meant for relaxing in his own house. He fingered a small golden beetle he called a scarab and let out a wistful sigh.
'Egypt is a magical place, Lacey,' he said. 'All the wonders of a lost world buried in the sand, waiting to be discovered. The Turks don't care about it one way or another. I have followed the career of that Italian fellow, Belzoni, out there looking for treasure. He used to do a strongman act at Tunbridge Wells. Would carry seven men on his back. Amazing fellow.'
'And you wish to travel to Egypt to help him?'
'Not help, watch and learn. I doubt I would do much good chucking blocks of stone about. I long to go back. It is a beautiful place.'
'You speak of it much.'
'I told you before, we could go together. I believe you'd enjoy it.'
I poured my brandy into my coffee and sipped the spicy, warm mixture. 'What would Marianne say?'
'I believe she would be furious with me. That is the trouble with falling under a woman's enchantment. A man becomes reluctant to leave her side.'
'Are you reluctant to leave her side?' I asked.
Grenville gave me a self-deprecating look. 'I am, as you have guessed. That young lady has gotten under my skin.' He took a drink of brandy. 'Well, you warned me about her. Perhaps I should flee to Egypt so that I might come to my senses.'
'She would never forgive you, I think.'
'She might be happy to see the back of me. Especially if I left her with a great deal of money. Yes, I believe that is my solution.'
'I believe you wrong her,' I said.
'Do I?' he asked in vast disbelief.
'You stayed last night with her, did you not?'
His smile was cynical. 'A night with a lady does not mean a softening of that lady's heart. You are a romantic.'
'Perhaps. What about Mrs. Bennington?'
His brandy glass stopped halfway to his mouth. 'Mrs. Bennington?'
'I visited her after her performance last night. Her husband introduced me. She asked me to speak to you.'
Any friendliness vanished. 'Did she?'
'I found it rather incredible what she told me, that you shouted at her over a gentleman called Carew and threw your walking stick across the room. I was shown the mark you left in the wallpaper. I must wonder why you did so.'
Grenville sat stiffly, his eyes glittering with anger. 'Lacey, I often am amused by your curiosity, but this time, I am not. Please cease to ask me questions.'
'You frightened her.'
'Good. She ought not to let young fellows make up to her, nor should she have married that God-awful Bennington. The man is a mountebank.'
'She told me his name was not Bennington. Who is he then?'
'The devil if I know.'
'You seem extraordinarily angry. Do you know Mrs. Bennington well? I never heard you speak of her before she came to London.'
'I told you, Lacey,' Grenville said in a hard voice. 'Cease asking me questions about Mrs. Bennington.'
'I admit, her story seemed incredible. I thought it likely that you'd have a reasonable explanation for the entire matter, even if I had to thrash you for frightening a rather pathetic young lady.'
Grenville stared at me in outrage, then he began to laugh. 'Good God, you have audacity.'
'I know. That is why I anger so many people.'
'I admire it, you know-even when it makes you a bloody nuisance.'
I noted that his backhanded compliment let him nicely avoid the question. 'Will you not tell me the explanation?'
He stopped laughing. 'No. I will not. This incident with Mrs. Bennington is none of your damned business. That is all I will say on the matter.'
I inclined my head. My curiosity was not satisfied, but I saw I would get no further with him tonight. 'Very well, but I must ask you to cease frightening her. If she tells me again that you have thrown your walking stick or shouted in her face, I will consider the thrashing.'
He gazed at me, lips parting. 'You truly do have audacity, Lacey.'
'Yes.'
I knew I jeopardized my friendship with him by being high-handed, but Mrs. Bennington had been truly frightened, and Grenville had not denied her accusations. Mrs. Bennington was not the most apt young lady in the world, but that was no reason for a gentleman to threaten her or terrify her. That Grenville, who prided himself on impeccable manners, had done so, was astonishing.
Grenville drank his brandy in silence for a moment then said, tight-lipped, 'I suppose we should turn the conversation to other things. What do you think of what Stokes told you?'
'It is the first time I have been able to verify the truth of Brandon's story that he was wandering the house just before the body was discovered. But there are other things going on that I do not understand.'
I told him of my meeting with Denis and Colonel Naveau, and the request to find the document that Turner had stolen from Naveau. Grenville listened, his animosity fading as his interest rose.
'I agree with you that Brandon most likely gave the paper to Imogene Harper,' he said. 'However, she must have been looking for it when you caught her entering Turner's rooms, which tells me she does not have it.'
'This is what I have concluded. I plan to ask Mrs. Harper when I visit her and try to force her to tell me the
