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“Who is he? My father is a clock maker. What would he have to do with someone who would do that?” she whispered. She wasn’t sure who she was asking, but her gaze fell upon the man she now knew was called Joe.
“The man’s name is Victor Mainton. He was the Count’s or, rather, Terrence Sayers’, main thief.”
“Who?”
Marguerite’s exclamation was so instinctive that Joe was assured she had no idea who Victor Mainton was. He was the man responsible for the countless jewellery thefts from aristocratic houses across London until March of last year. He was also the man, the only man, who have ever double-crossed Sayers and managed to leave London alive. He had disappeared several months ago with his sister, and a pile of gems Sayers had been blamed for stealing. Much to Sayers’ fury, Mainton had then forged a new life for himself somewhere else.
Or so the Star Elite had thought.
Whether he had been found by Sayers and forcibly returned to London, or had returned willingly was anybody’s guess. It was probably too late to find out now, and it didn’t really matter. What was important was that the man had re-appeared and was now dead. Even more important than that was where the body had been found. Joe, Marcus, and Ben, all knew it confirmed a link between this house and Sayers. Joe and the Star Elite now had to find out what that link was, and if it involved the woman, Marguerite.
Marcus lifted one of the man’s hands up to study it. While there was nothing unusual to be seen apart from dirty fingernails, but there were telltale rope marks visible around the wrists.
“He was dead before he was strung up,” Joe murmured.
“What makes you think that?” Marcus asked.
Trapped in a horrified daze, Marguerite listened to them discuss the details around the grizzly death as though they were discussing nothing more than the morning’s weather. It was disconcerting. Morbid curiosity aside, she listened.
“There are no broken fingers or finger nails. There is no evidence of a struggle. Even his shirt is tucked in. He would have struggled significantly if he had realised they were going to hang him. Not only that but he would have struggled as soon as he was strung, right up to the point of death. He was probably bound whilst alive because these rope burns have been marked onto flesh which then bled and became bruised.”
“Are there any other lesions, or cuts?” Joe asked.
Marcus sighed and opened the man’s shirt. Together he and Joe lifted the corpse upright so they could check his back.
Joe sighed. “I think he was strangled while he was unconscious and then hung here as a warning.”
“I wonder where his sister is?” Ben mused with a frown.
“We need to check if she is back with their mother,” Marcus replied.
Joe nodded and looked at Marguerite who was wringing her hands and staring at a spot on the floor.
“Where do you think your father is?” Joe asked of her.
“I don’t know. I wish I did because I could then speak with him and get some answers,” she replied.
“Do you think he might have gone to a friend’s house for some reason?” Joe asked.
Marguerite frowned. “I don’t think he is that close to anybody. He lives for his work.”
Joe nodded and sighed deeply. He had little doubt she was telling the truth and decided not to push. She looked as though she was going to be sick all over the floor at any moment. Either she was an incredible actress, or her disgust and terror were real, in which case she was no cold-blooded killer. The killer was more likely to be Terrence Sayers.
In spite of his best attempts to ignore it, an unusual feeling of jealousy swept through him. He almost felt possessive as he quickly blanked out the niggling image of her in Sayers’ embrace. To think of her coming that close to someone like the gangster made him want to sweep her up and race her back to his house where he knew she was safe and refuse to allow her out of his sight again until Sayers was behind bars. It was annoying that he should have such an unwanted attraction to any woman right now. He had work to do. He should concentrate on that and think about the woman a little later when the danger was gone, and he was able to decide if something further with her was worth considering. But, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his growing awareness of her, especially when she looked as lost and forlorn as she did, and so damned beautiful she made his teeth ache.
CHAPTER NINE
“I need you to be honest with me, Marguerite,” Joe demanded. “Your future welfare depends on it. If you lie to me, you could end up like him. What Sayers witnessed us doing last night could have made him jealous to the point that he wants to end his association with you - permanently. If there is one thing Sayers hates it is a traitor.”
“I don’t have any links to him,” she whispered. To his disgust, she looked at him square in the eye. “Now you tell me that you have no association with Sayers either.”
“I am not associated with that man,” he replied without preamble.
“Why are you here then? Why are you so determined to kidnap me?” The more she spoke, the more she realised how unusual it was for him to appear, in her back garden, just a few hours after she had managed to avoid him taking her somewhere she didn’t want to go. “Just who are you?”
She sensed from the look in his eye that he wasn’t going to tell her the truth and was horribly disappointed. He asked repeatedly for her to trust him while he clearly refused to reciprocate.
“We are people you can trust,” Marcus replied.
