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Myers shrugged, but Jeb knew from the look in his eye that he was right. Myers just wasn’t co-operating by telling them the entire truth.
“So, Rawdon murdered Mrs Banks so you had somewhere removed from the village that you could use as a temporary base while you got someone local to steal the jewels.” Jeb leaned back in his seat. “So, how did you meet Delilah Carney? She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who usually skulks around in your circles.”
> Jeb was positively bursting with questions but forced himself to tackle one subject at a time. If he were to throw too many demands at the man before him, Myers would start to babble nonsense in a fit of panic just to get them to shut up and leave him alone, or he could stop talking altogether.
“Bert Merriweather, the owner of the pawn shop in Standmere, is an acquaintance of Rawdon. Before you ask, I don’t know how they met or what that connection is. I just got told to make his acquaintance, and collect some goods for Bamber.”
Jeb held his hand up to stop him talking. “Rawdon Bamber?”
“Yes. That’s who we are talking about isn’t it?” Myers scowled at Barnaby, who was scribbling away on a piece of parchment, an inkpot at his elbow. “What’s he doing?”
“Writing down what you are telling us. The judge who deals with your case will want to know how much you have co-operated. Everything you say will be investigated so it is yet another reason why you should tell us the truth.”
Myers accepted that and braced his elbows on the table while he waited for the next question.
At Barnaby’s nod, Jeb leaned forward. “So, you collected the parcel and took it to Bamber. Why were you sent here?”
“I was told to cut Merriweather out of the deal. I got Merriweather to give me a list of the people who usually fence stuff through his shop. Merriweather told me when each of them turned up.”
Jeb frowned. “Why would Merriweather give you details of the thieves names if it is going to cost him trade?”
Myers shrugged but had a cunning look in his eye.
“Merriweather is planning to close up shop, isn’t he?” Barnaby asked.
Myers looked at him. “London is a big place to get lost in.”
“So you intercepted each thief and got them to work directly for you.”
It wasn’t a question, but Myers saw it as one. “It is surprising who will actually turn to stealing when they are forced into it.”
Jeb shook his head in disgust. “This isn’t some game of cat and mouse. You are helping yourself to things other people have worked hard for; precious possessions and keepsakes that mean something to someone. I wouldn’t look so proud of yourself, if I were you.”
Myers wiped the smirk off his face when the atmosphere turned threatening.
“So, you made contact with them and got them to hand you the goods rather than take them to Merriweather.”
“How many?” Barnaby asked, peering down the table at them.
Myers scrunched his nose up. “I can’t count,” he scowled.
Jeb swore and ran a hand down his face. “Tell me their names.”
“Well, there was that Carney woman, that young gal who died too, Tabitha. Norman Scoggins; he lives over at Barrowby. Then there is Edith Culbert. She is a sweet old widow who has a knack with pick-pocketing like you wouldn’t believe. Then young Paul Turner. He thieves from his gentleman farmer employers, right from under their noses and they haven’t got a clue.”
“Did Mrs Banks steal for you?” Jeb asked.
“Eh? Who?”
Jeb sighed. “The old woman who lived here.”
“Nah.” Myers snorted.
Barnaby nodded. “Did Bamber kill Tabitha?”
Myers nodded. “He is the cold-blooded killer, not me.”
“What did she do?” Jeb knew Bamber had very little respect for human life but, as far as he knew, Tabitha had done nothing that warranted being targeted. It was something of a shock to realise she had been stealing for them too.
