“Do come in and help us, Luten,” she said, and explained why she had summoned Black. Luten nodded his approval. He knew from past experience that Black’s advice would be good.
“I should never have allowed Prance to bring his motley crew into the house at this time,” he said.
“And I should never have let Miss Lipman help me,” Corinne added.
“Are you not happy with her?”
“I’d like to wring her neck.” Luten blinked at this plain speaking from his wife. She sounded like the hoyden she had been when he first met her. “She announced to Prance’s actors that we have the auction goods stored here when I especially told her not to tell anyone.”
“Where is she now?” he asked.
“She’s gone back to her flat to get some more clothes. She’s dining out with friends.”
“Does she have a house key?” Black asked.
“No, she said she would be home early.”
“Don’t give her one. It’ll be one less to worry about. Any key lying about the house where someone might get at it?”
“Corinne and I have one,” Luten said. “Evans has the other. I’ll speak to him, see that he keeps it on him. Cook has the only key to the back door. I’ll see she keeps it safe.” Black nodded. “Well, Black, what do you suggest?”
He repeated his precautions, and that Luten shouldn’t leave any keys, especially to the library, where anyone could get at them. “And that’s just the start,” he continued. “The actors will want looking into. I hope you won’t take it amiss, your ladyship,” he said to Corinne, “but even Miss Lipman wants looking into. Or is she a special friends of yours?”
“Not at all. I know very little about her. Lady Cowper recommended her. She said she was reliable.”
“And Miss Lipman’s the one that told the actors about the goods being here. If she’s in on it, she might have done that on purpose to spread suspicion around, should the goods go missing.”
“You think of everything, Black,” Corinne said. “I
did
tell her not to mention it to anyone, and the first day she told the lot of them. That
does
look suspicious, though I think really she’s just a scatterbrain. Can you check up on the background of the actors, and I’ll see what I can discover about Miss Lipman?”
“I’ll do that, milady. I still know a few lads that might help me.”
Coffen looked all around and said, “If that’s all, me and Black will be going home.”
“No!” Corinne said in alarm. “I want Black to stay here till the ball’s over.”
Coffen’s blue eyes darkened and a rare scowl wrinkled his brow. “What am I to do for a butler in the meanwhile?” he demanded.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she said with a pleading look. “Perhaps if Black looked in here a couple of times a day, and was here at night... You can eat here if—” Before the advent of Black into his life, this would have been a clincher.
Black said to Coffen, “It’s not necessary to inconvenience her ladyship, Mr. Pattle.”
“She don’t mind inconveniencing me.”
“I’ll speak to the staff. They’ll behave themselves. Never you fear. You’ll be took good care of.”
“And what about your checking up on them actors?” Coffen persisted. “When will you be doing that?”
“I thought you might give me hand there,” Black said. He knew Coffen’s love of the Green Room. He’d drop Mr. Pattle off there to check up on the actors while he spoke to his erstwhile companions on the ken lay. Or better, Nappy Harper. He was the lad who’d know who was breaking into the big houses nowadays. If you hoped to peddle your hot merchandise for more than a couple of shillings on the pound, Nappy was the lad to go to.
“Daresay I could lend a hand there. But she just has you till the ball’s over,” Coffen said grudgingly.
“Of course,” Corinne hastened to assure him.
Luten listened, then said, “Is there any special reason why the donations can’t be kept at Elgin Hall, where the ball is to be held?”
“A very good reason,” Corinne told him. “The hall is used three or four times a week for all sorts of parties and meetings. People are running in and out all the time. We’ve only rented it for two days. We have to do our decorations and make other arrangements on the day of the ball, and we have it the day after to clean up. It wouldn’t be safe to move the donations there until the very day of the ball.”
“Yes, I see that would be a problem. Can we do without a couple of our footmen?”
“We could. We won’t be doing any entertaining until after the ball. Prance has offered the use of his,” she said. “He feels badly about this mishap.”
“I’d rather use our own,” Luten said. “Prance’s will spend their time drooling over the gewgaws and forget why they’re here.” Prance did tend to hire servants who shared his artistic interests.
Black turned to Mr. Pattle. “You could spare Paddy,” he said. “He’s the sharpest of your lot. Webb could take over his duties.”
Annoyed by the whole affair, Coffen indulged in another fit of sarcasm. “You will leave me my valet and groom, I hope?”
“Oh certainly, Mr. Pattle,” Black said in a consoling way. “Raven would be no use at all, and Fitz would be worse than useless.” Then he turned back to Luten and Corinne. “Mr. Pattle and me will be making a few enquiries tonight. I’ll be back around ten-thirty or eleven to check up on things here. You won’t forget to put them jewels in your safe, milady and look after your keys?”
“I’ll do it right now. Thank you, Black. I knew I could depend on you. And thank you, dear Coffen. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”
“You can find me someone to take to the ball. Have a word with Miss Lipman. I don’t mind that she’ll have to work while she’s there. It’s just someone to walk in with,” he said, and ushered Black out before they could make any more demands on him.
Raven had become so efficient under Black’s firm tutelage that he had his master’s evening clothes laid out when they returned from Luten’s and helped him dress. An excellent dinner of roast beef, a bottle of wine followed by apple tart put Coffen back in spirits. After dinner, Black called for the carriage and he and Coffen headed for the Green Room at Drury Lane. Fitz was so familiar with this route that he made it without going astray.
Black entered with Coffen to have a look around. Finding nothing of interest, he said, “You’ll do better than I will here. You chat up the girls and see what you can find out about young Chloe and Sean and Vance. I’ll pick you up in an hour or so.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just going to look up a few old chums. We’ll make better time if we work separate.”
A particularly lively redhead in a green gown that showed off her fulsome figure spotted Coffen and came undulating forward. He had often chatted to Cherie and knew she kept up on all the gossip. “Very well,” he said to Black, and turned to greet the redhead, allowing Black to escape.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Pattle,” she said, latching on to his arm. “We’ve missed you around the place.” Coffen was well known at the Green Room as a generous, undemanding guest.
“Could I offer you a glass of wine, Cherie?”
“I wouldn’t say no.” Her leering smile suggested there wasn’t much she would say no to.
After a little flirtation, Coffen remembered why he was there and said, “You wouldn’t happen to know a girl called Chloe Chalmers? She works on the costumes, I believe.”
“She used to, before she landed some good job with a nob. Whatever do you want to know her for?” she asked with a pout. “What’s wrong with me then?”
“Not a thing. It’s just business about Chloe,” he assured her. He noticed that Chloe had been boasting of working for Prance. She mustn’t have told his name though, or Cherie would have known it.
She gave a shrug of indifference. “She’s not an actress. Says she did some work with a touring company up north that nobody ever heard of. She just lends a hand once in a while when they need an extra needle downstairs for an excuse to hang around and try her luck here.”
“What can you tell me about her?”
“I can tell you she has a fellow. Sean something, a handsome lad.”
“Sean Everett,” he supplied. “Know anything about him?”
“Just that he keeps a pretty sharp eye on Chloe, which don’t mean he ignores the rest of us. They ain’t what you’d call regulars here.”
“Did you ever hear where they’re from?”
“Here and there. Depends what day you ask them,” she sniffed. “Chloe thinks she’s too good for the rest of us. She’s only after gents, and the only ones she gives the time of day to are well-inlaid ones. Sean don’t seem to mind that.”
This sounded as though Chloe was just one more girl on the lookout for a rich patron. He wouldn’t have thought it to look at her. And apparently Sean had no objection. An ambitious pair trying to scramble up the slippery slope of success.
“Any trouble with the law?” he asked.
“They haven’t been caught yet,” she said, and laughed. Coffen’s blue eyes widened in interest. When she saw he had taken her joke seriously, she said, “Just funning, Mr. Pattle. It ain’t against the law for a pretty young girl to try to better herself, is it?”
“Devil a bit of it.”
She directed a sharp look at him. “What did you think I meant? Has she got herself in trouble with the law?”
“No, nothing like that. How about Vance Corbett? Do you know anything about him?” he asked.
She gave him a bold look. “I never heard you was interested in
men,
Mr. Pattle.”
“I ain’t. But about Vance—”
“He never comes here. They say he’s going places. A real good actor, but hard to get along with. Manages to come to cuffs with everyone he works with. He came within Ame’s ace of getting turfed out of
Measure for Measure
for cutting up stiff with the director.”
Coffen couldn’t think of anything else to ask. “Thanks, Cherie. I have to be running along.” He reached in his pocket and handed her a coin. “Here, buy yourself another drink. If you should happen to hear anything interesting about Chloe or Sean, let me know. You can send word to Berkeley Square, where I live.”
“Thanks ever so,” she said, snatching the coin and looking around to see who else she might entertain.
He chatted to a couple of other actresses before leaving, but none of them had anything to add. As he thought, if there was anything interesting to be learned in the Green Room, Cherie would have known it. As Vance considered himself above the Green Room, however, Coffen decided to have a word with a producer he knew. He wandered about until he found Ted Brown’s office, a cubbyhole on a lower level. Brown was there, half hidden behind a pile of scripts the theatre was considering.
“Mr. Pattle,” he said with a smile, happy for an excuse to take a rest. “What brings you here? This isn’t your usual port of call at our humble theatre.”
“I’m after a spot of information, Ted. About a fellow called Vance Corbett. It’s for my friend, Reg Prance.”
“Prance is putting on a play, is he?”
“Rehearsing some scenes from one he’s writing. They want to make a play of his gothic novel. You might have heard.”
“I have indeed. I heard a rumour he was working on the script himself. Surely he’s not planning to cast it as well? He’ll catch cold at that.”
“Just rehearsing some scenes to see how it’ll work on the stage.”
“And he’s got an eye on Vance for the villain, of course. An excellent choice. He’s a fine actor, but with an actor’s temperament. Cuts up like a diva already, and he’s never had a starring part.”
“I heard he was a bit of a trouble-maker. Other than that, though, a sound fellow, is he?”
“He doesn’t drink overly much, is punctual, always knows his lines and doesn’t cause trouble with the ladies, unless they upstage him. If it weren’t for thinking he’s better than God, he’d be a star by now.”
“No vices at all?”
“As I said, a little encumbered with self-importance. He wouldn’t rub along with Prance at all.”
“What I’m trying to find out, Ted, he isn’t light-fingered? Not likely to walk off with the spoons in his pocket, so to speak.”
Brown seemed shocked at the idea. “No, no. Nothing to worry about there. He makes enough for his needs, but he’s a demon for trying to take over any play he’s in. He even argues with Shakespeare, says some of his lines aren’t playable. I ask you!”
Brown produced a bottle and they chatted a little longer. Brown had no idea where any of Prance’s actors came from. It was commonly said they came out of the woodwork when a play was being cast. When Coffen decided it was time to meet Black he took his leave. He felt he hadn’t learned much, and hoped Black had done better.
Coffen’s carriage was waiting when he left the theatre. Fitz, no doubt at Black’s urging, even had the door open and the step let down. Coffen knew by Black’s dour expression that he hadn’t had much luck either. “No luck then?” he said, when he was settled in the carriage and they were on their way home.
“Nothing so far. It’s too early, but I’ve had a word with Nappy. Just the usual crew on the ken lay. He don’t think Jenkins would tackle a lord’s house. He specializes in doing shops. The Podey gang have moved to Brighton for the summer. The only one he figures would tackle a job like this is Father Maccles, and he’s doing fifteen years for his last job.”
“Why do they call him father? Dresses up like a priest, does he?”
“No, that’s Reverend Smiley you’re thinking of. He’s a paper hanger.”
“Eh?” This was Coffen’s regular comment when he didn’t know what someone was talking about.
“Bad cheques, Mr. Pattle. You wouldn’t have come across Smiley. Father Maccles runs a family operation. He works with his sons and even his wife, Mother Maccles, on his bigger jobs. You don’t want to take any cake or ale
she
offers you.”
“A bad cook, is she?”
“Not bad tasting, it’s the little extra something she puts in her cakes that’ll lay you out for a week, if it don’t kill you. Father’s a devil for planning but not so strong on execution. He did the Russian job last year. You remember Russia sent a bunch of jewels and paintings and what not to an exhibit at Somerset House? As soon as ever he read about it, Father got a bunch of his sons hired to do odd jobs for the show, menial work for the exhibit. Setting up displays, selling tickets and even working as guards. Talk about the fox guarding the hen house! Father waited till the show was over and the goods all boxed up to send home, then he struck. You can imagine the hullabaloo Prinney would have raised if it happened before the show, or during it. Like I said, a demon for planning. I’m glad he’s not on the loose, or this is just the sort of job he’d go after.”