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She looked at him. “His tools have appeared in his study.”
Joe studied the table-top. “No clocks to work on?”
She slowly shook her head. “There is no reason to bring his tools home with him. He has never done so before, especially when there are no clocks to mend. I get the distinct impression that he hasn’t wanted to leave them at the shop for some reason.”
“Sounds to me like we should search the shop,” Kerrigan murmured.
“I can do that later,” Reg offered.
Jacob shook his head. “You need to go and see Sir Hugo, to find out if Ben has appeared.”
Reg looked about to protest. A dark frown settled on his brow but, whatever he was thinking, he didn’t argue.
“In fact, I think it is best if you go now. The sooner Sir Hugo finds out what has happened the better,” Kerrigan murmured.
Reg sighed heavily and looked at everyone in turn. Eventually, he huffed and left the table. He slammed out of the house without saying a word.
A stilted silence settled over everyone until the distant sound of hooves on cobbles racing away broke the silence. Kerrigan then left the table and bolted the door.
“What is going on?” Marguerite murmured, wishing she could be alone with Joe to talk to him freely.
“We don’t have long. We need to go and search your father’s shop. Tell me how we get in there, Marguerite.”
The urgency in Joe’s voice was alarming.
“What is it?” She whispered. “What do you think has happened to my father?”
“I don’t know,” Joe sighed.
“I am coming with you,” she said flatly. “There is an assistant there; a man called Donaldson. He won’t allow you in if you just appear at the back door.”
Joe mentally swore. He hated to take her with him but couldn’t leave her in the house. There were only a few of them trustworthy enough to be involved in this now, especially given that Barnaby was still on his honeymoon, and Luke hadn’t returned from the country yet. It was safest if Marguerite stayed with him.
He didn’t like it, but Joe could see no better alternative.
“Before we go,” Kerrigan began. “Has your father reported any burglaries at the shop of late?”
Marguerite shook her head. “He is fastidious with his security. There are bars on the windows, that kind of thing. It is most odd for him not to leave his tools in his workshop.”
“Are they still at the house?” Joe asked. He hated the thought of having to go back but would if it meant that he could see Eustace’s tools for himself.
Marguerite nodded. “They are in his desk drawer in the study.”
Joe sighed. “I need to go and look at the house again.”
He had never seen a clock-maker’s tools before but suspected they would be small, and more likely the kind of tool a thief would use to gain access to things that don’t belong to them. It may be the reason why Sayers needed the clockmaker.
Joe nodded. “Do you do anything to help him in his business?”
Marguerite shook his head. “I run the house, with Mrs Tingay’s help. My father spends most of his days in his workshop and only comes home at night.”
Joe frowned at that. It sounded like an isolated existence for her. He wondered if that was why her father wanted her to marry, to give her some company. At least married she would have a husband to talk to and would be able to attend many more social functions. To an innocent person who didn’t know about the hardened criminal who lurked beneath the debonair exterior, the Count was indeed the catch of the season. Joe was curious to find out how the Count and Marguerite’s father came into contact in the first place.
“I don’t wish to upset you, but does your father have a criminal record of any kind?”
Marguerite looked at him in astonishment. “He is a staid and proper businessman,” she replied firmly. “No. Not as far as I am aware. Why? Do you?”
Joe smiled and shook his head. “No. I joined the army as soon as I came of age and was shipped aboard as soon as I had completed my training. I spent my time on the battlefields and then came home.”
