There was nothing beneath it. I probed the wicker, thrusting my hands down the sides of the chair to seek anything tucked there, but I found nothing but bits of broken-off wicker.
As I turned the cushion over, my fingers brushed somethingbeneath the velvet that rustled. Quickly I examined the cushion’s edges and found tiny hooks that secured the fabric together.
With Hannah’s breath on my neck, I undid the hooks and pulled out what had caught my attention.
It was a paper, thick and worn, that had been much folded into a two-by-two-foot square. I handed Hannah the cushion and carried the paper to the desk and spread it open.
It was a map, or rather, several maps drawn on one page. The most prominent and largest was of London, from Kensington in the west to Stepney in the east, from Hampstead Heath north to Lambeth south.
SmallX’s lay here and there, some larger than others. A few were underlined, and two had question marks next to them.
AnXat what I knew to be Victoria Station, a few streets south of Buckingham Palace, hadFebwritten beside it. Marks next to the Westminster Bridge Underground station and also Paddington station were labeledOct. OtherX’s were designatedMarandMay.
The MayX’s had the number30next to them as well. Those lay in Pall Mall and Trafalgar Square, and also in Whitehall, right next to the buildings of Scotland Yard.
Last October, the Westminster and Paddington Underground stations had been rocked by explosions. This past February, one had gone off inside Victoria Station.
I did not recall any incendiaries detonated last May. My breath came faster.
If the May dates were in the future, then Scotland Yard and a building in Pall Mall were due to see explosions on the 30th of this month.
Tomorrow, in fact.
24
We stared at the map with its damning markings in shock.
Small wonder that neither Daniel nor Hannah had been able to find it. Lord Peyton had been literally sitting on the evidence of the Fenian connection. When he retired for the night, the chair would have been right next to his bed. I wagered even Lord Peyton’s coconspirators hadn’t known where he kept the map.
But Fagan would have.
“I must go,” I said hastily. “So should you. Give your notice, or simply disappear, but please go home and take care of Adam—I mean, Sean.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t like to, not yet. Lady Fontaine’s a daft old bag, but she don’t need everyone deserting her now.”
“Now who is being astonishingly kind?” I demanded. “It won’t be safe for you here—or for her either.”
Hannah regarded me stubbornly. “But his lordship’s gone now, ain’t he? His friends haven’t darkened the door since he pegged it. Even his doctor looked his lordship over, pronounced him dead, and couldn’t run off fast enough. I reckon the Fenians are done with this place.”
“There’s Fagan,” I pointed out. “He won’t be happy when he finds this map gone.”
“You’re taking it, then?” Hannah asked. “Why not call the police back in to discover it for themselves?”
“They didn’t find it the first time they searched the house, did they? Besides, Fagan could move it by then. He had to know where his master hid it.”
“You have a point,” she conceded.
“If you wish to look after Lady Fontaine, then take her to a hotel or a lodging house,” I urged her. “They can be paid from Lord Peyton’s estate.”
“I can’t take her to no hotel, Katie. She’ll get us slung out for stealing all the candlesticks and whatnot. At least here, whatever she takes stays inside the house. Don’t worry about Fagan. I can handle him.”
I wasn’t certain she could, but I admitted that Hannah was smart and resourceful. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to worry about him at all, once Scotland Yard had this map.
“If anything untoward happens,” I said emphatically, “anything at all, even if you’re not frightened, you send for me.”
“I will,” Hannah said. She was the sort who’d try to face down any peril on her own, and I prayed she’d heed me.
I gave her an impulsive hug. “Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
