“Who is Mr. Barnard again?” Caleb asked.
“He is the Frenchman that I don’t trust,” he replied. “He is showing far too much interest in Octavia for my liking.”
Caleb nodded. “I remember now.”
Roswell gestured towards the bakery. “Mr. Barnard came out of the shop and wanted to clear the air between us.”
“That must have been rather uncomfortable for you.”
“It was, but why did he choose to come to this bakery?” Roswell pressed.
Caleb shrugged. “He could have come for the bread.”
“He could have gotten bread anywhere.”
“I daresay that you are reading too much into this.”
“Or you aren’t reading enough into it!” Roswell contested. “What if he was scouting out the place?”
“For what purpose?” Caleb asked. “Besides, I thought you said that he worked for Wellington.”
“That is what he said.”
“You doubt him?”
Roswell didn’t know what to think when it came to the Frenchman, and that was the problem. “I think there is more than meets the eye with Mr. Barnard.”
Caleb placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think you might be blinded by the fact that Mr. Barnard has interest in your sister.”
“He is a Frenchman and we both know they can’t be trusted.”
“That is rather narrow-minded of you,” Caleb said, dropping his hand. “Come. Kendrick is waiting for us.”
Roswell followed Caleb into the bakery and he saw Bertha standing behind the counter. Since there were no customers, he pulled the shade down and locked the door.
“Good morning,” she greeted. “Are you here for the usual?”
“We are,” Roswell confirmed. “The man that was just in here, did he do anything to arouse suspicion?”
“The Frenchman?” Bertha asked.
“Yes, that was him.”
She shook her head. “No, he just asked for some bread and left.”
“Will you inform me if he returns?” Roswell asked.
“I will,” Bertha said as she opened the trap door. “Don’t lollygag. Today has been rather busy in the bakery.”
Roswell descended the stairs and Caleb trailed behind him. They opened the door and stepped into the hall. Men were sitting around their desks and gave them little heed as they approached Kendrick’s office.
Mr. Wilson looked up from his desk with a weary look on his face. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he greeted. “Have you discovered anything pertinent to the investigation?”
“We did,” Roswell replied, coming to a stop by the desk. “We are about to report our findings to Kendrick.”
“I wish you luck. Kendrick is in a fine mood today,” Mr. Wilson advised.
“When is he not?” Roswell joked before he knocked on Kendrick’s door.
