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Bobby, realizing Mr. Fielding had things in hand, slouched back in her chair and had a nibble of the cake. Not Mrs. Holloway’s coveted lemon cake but a lovely buttery one. Bobby took the time to enjoy it.
“You will leave them be,” Judith stated. “But I have another matter to take up with you. Where did you obtain the photographs?”
Moody blinked at her, clearly baffled by the question. “Photographs?”
Bobby touched the packet of them safely in her pocket. They’d proved to be very interesting and not in the way most people would think.
“The photographs of young ladies you handed around at the club,” Judith said. Her back was straight, her dignity splendid. “Where did you get them?”
“Bought them, didn’t I?” Moody leaned forward to stare at Judith more intently. “Hang about. One of them was you, wasn’t it?” His leer returned.
“Hardly.” Judith’s crisp tone sent Moody into confusion again. Bobby took another large bite of cake, letting herself be entertained.
“Bought them from whom?” Mrs. Holloway asked.
“A shop, in Paris,” Moody said in irritation. “What of it?”
“Which shop?” Judith persisted.
“I don’t know, do I? On one of them boulevards somewhere.”
“I’ll wager you’ve never been to Paris,” Bobby said from the depths of her chair. “You had them from a secondhand shop or some such here in London, who told you they came from a studio in Paris. Didn’t you?”
“What does it matter?” Moody asked testily.
“It matters very much, indeed.” Judith’s tone remained neutral, but Bobby sensed her disappointment. “Never mind. I suggest that you release Mr. Makepeace from your clutches, shut down your store—I imagine the origins of some of your goods would not stand up to scrutiny?—and try your luck on shores far from here.”
Moody sprang up. “Shut your gob, missus. You don’t know nothing. I’m finished here.”
He swung to the doorway and found Mr. Fielding somehow in front of him. Moody was a few inches taller than Fielding, but Fielding was a solid pillar, and it was Moody who shrank back.
“I said, you ain’t police,” Moody snarled. “Who are you? Your gents only told me you knew something to my advantage. What is it?”
“That it would be to your advantage to not linger in London,” Mr. Fielding said without changing expression. “I suggest you cut your losses, leave from here, and start anew.”
“Start anew? Why the devil should I?”
Judith answered him after she took a calm sip of tea. “Because your shop has already been seized. I know many people who run things, Mr. Moody. As you say, none of us in this room are police, but I have connections to those who instruct the police in their duties. Quite a number of constables are now going over what sort of items you have on your premises. Others will be in wait to escort you to a magistrate, unless you take our advice and flee.”
Moody stared at her in stunned disbelief, then switched to Mrs. Holloway and Bobby, as though hoping they’d contradict Judith. “You’re lying. You’re nothing but a pack of females.”
“Packs of females can have extraordinary influence, Mr. Moody,” Judith said. “Are we not made to adorn and inspire?” The words held scorn. “I have inspired the Commissioner of Scotland Yard to take a great interest in you and your doings.”
Sweat beaded on Moody’s forehead. “Damnation. I’ll have you for this, the lot of you. I wouldn’t sleep soundly, were I you.” His hard eyes became even more stony, the look he shot Mrs. Holloway and Judith bordering on brutal.
Bobby set aside her cake with regret, in case she had to help Fielding throw the man to the pavement. But again, Mr. Fielding placed himself solidly in front of Moody.
“I wouldn’t suggest it.” Mr. Fielding didn’t raise his voice, but Moody studied him uncertainly. “Other gents like the ones who escorted you here are ready to guide you to the river and push you onto a boat. I have men on that boat to make certain you reach another destination. Or a magistrate can send you to Newgate. It is your choice.”
Moody glowered. “I don’t take orders from trumped-up vicars.”
“I’m a bishop now, did you know?” Mr. Fielding informed him. “But it isn’t my ecclesiastical associates who are assisting me. It is …” He leaned forward and whispered something into Moody’s ear.
Bobby didn’t catch what Mr. Fielding said, but it had a profound effect on Moody. He drew a sharp breath, and his face went nearly green.
“You—” Moody regarded Mr. Fielding with stark fear, and then he charged for the door.
This time Mr. Fielding let him go, giving him a wave on the way.
