“There is something I should tell you,” he eventually said. “Something Trentham spoke of last night troubles me and might be relevant.”
“Go on,” I said as Matt once more inspected the top drawer.
“Trentham claims his magic is cursed. He says if the curse is lifted, it would be stronger.”
“Curse?”
“It is not the curse that interests me. It is his belief that his magic could be stronger without it. If he knew of a way to lift the curse, then he might think he will be strong enough to use your spell.”
“Hence he came here, hoping to find it so he could use it once his magic returns to its full strength,” I finished for him. “That gives Trentham a motive. And you did say he asked you a lot of questions last night. Not only that, the timing is too coincidental for my liking. This theft happened the very night he questioned you at length about our work.”
“Curses aren’t real,” Matt piped up.
I gave him an arched look.
“Very well, they might be real. But I still think this is the work of Coyle. He knows about your flying carpet spell. He’s the only one outside our circle who does. Anyone else is simply guessing that you created a new spell. It must be him.”
“Shall we pay him a call now?” I asked.
“He won’t admit it, and I doubt we can trick him into saying something incriminating. He’s an accomplished liar.”
“It might be worth letting him think we’re onto him,” I pointed out.
Matt agreed, and we departed for Coyle’s townhouse. Once seated in the carriage, he said, “Charbonneau is sleeping with his maid.”
“I know. Isn’t it positively scandalous!”
“Not to mention stupid. She could easily retrieve the key from his pocket and use it to open the desk drawer, or give it to the thief.”
I gasped. “You think she lied about the coughing?”
“It’s possible.”
Poor Fabian, being duped like that. While I didn’t believe he had feelings for her, and I didn’t approve of him having a relationship with his maid, it would be a betrayal if she’d been behind the theft.
“We should have questioned her more thoroughly,” I said.
“Perhaps, but she seemed a little in love with him, going by the way she looked at him. She wouldn’t steal from him if that were the case. I suspect she’s innocent and simply happened to be in his room when the thief broke in.”
“You have a good heart, Matt.” I touched his jaw so he’d look at me. “But a little too good. I think we should question her, but we can compromise and do it subtly. We’ll send Duke or Willie. She’s never met them.”
“The footman and butler have. Besides, Willie isn’t subtle. It’ll have to be Duke, and somewhere away from the house so the other servants don’t see him.”
“Agreed. But where? And how will he encourage her to talk?”
“I’ll think of something.”
We traveled in silence for several minutes, the only sound coming from the rain on the roof and the rumble of wheels. I assumed Matt was pondering the problem of the maid, so his next question took me by surprise.
“Do you believe Charbonneau didn’t make a copy of the spell?”
“Why would he lie?”
“I can’t think of a reason, but it seems odd that something so important to him wasn’t locked in the safe and he made no copies.”
“Fabian wouldn’t lie to us, Matt. Besides, did you see his hand shake when he told us? He’s devastated by the theft. He wouldn’t be if he held another copy.” I turned to face him squarely. I wanted to see his reaction properly. “Have you always doubted Fabian’s character?”
“No, and I don’t doubt him now.” He gathered my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze. “But we must consider all angles, India.”
“You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“A little. If Fabian lied about making a copy, perhaps he’s lying about other things. Like you being the only powerful magician. If there is someone else, someone who could use that spell…”
He didn’t go on, but I knew what he was implying. There was nothing stopping them from using it. If the thief was unscrupulous enough to steal the spell, they probably wouldn’t have the morals to refrain from using my spell to their own advantage. “It’s just a flying spell, Matt. It’s more harmless than Amelia Moreton’s detonation spell. I’d wager Coyle had someone steal it so that he can one day make money off commercial flights.” The more I thought about it, the more I warmed to the idea. It certainly made me feel a little less anxious about the theft.
Matt considered this a moment then smiled. “If anyone is mad enough to pay money to ride on a flying carpet, they should be charged a fortune for their stupidity. That thing was a death trap.”
As we drove up to the house, a hackney cab drove off. The occupant’s hand was raised to adjust her hat and her arm obscured her face. It was a little early to be receiving callers, but perhaps Hope was an early riser and liked to get on with the day.
Lord Coyle received us in the library, a small room of paneled wood and leather-bound books. His collection of magical objects was kept in an even smaller room hidden behind one of the shelves. Perhaps he’d just been in it, because he had no book or newspaper in hand. He sat in the only armchair, positioned by the fireplace where a small fire warmed the room, and regarded us from the shadows of his thick brow.
“I was just thinking about you two,” he said with a flick of his fingers at the butler. He didn’t ask the butler to bring refreshments, which meant Coyle didn’t wish us to stay long. There was nowhere to sit anyway. Coyle occupied the only chair. It wasn’t a room designed for receiving guests, or even for sitting quietly with his spouse.
“Why?” Matt asked.
“First things first. Why are you here?”
“To ask if you sent a thief to Charbonneau’s house to burgle him.”
Lord Coyle’s chuckle started deep in his belly and rose to his chest. It rocked him, making his entire body shake and his jowls tremble. “Very amusing, Glass.”
“Did you?” I pressed.
“To steal what, precisely? I already have enough magical iron in my collection.” He indicated the shelves that were in fact a secret door that led to the hidden room. “Did Charbonneau put you up to this? The man dislikes me, you know. Can’t think why.”
The library door opened. “Who was that—?” Hope cut herself off when she saw us. A visible change passed over her, like a ripple. It lifted her features and put a smile on her lips. It was entirely for Matt’s benefit, of course. I doubted seeing me would raise her spirits. “Dearest cousins, how lovely to see you both. Do come through to the drawing room. The library has a strange smell in it that the maids can’t get rid of.”
“The Glasses are about to leave,” Lord Coyle told her. “They stated their business, and I suspect will have nothing further to say when I tell them they’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“What tree is that, Husband?”
“I did not send a thief to steal anything from Charbonneau.”