The River Knows

13

Miranda Fawcett agreed to meet with them the following day. She received Louisa and Anthony in a grand drawing room that resembled the lobby of a luxurious theater. Red velvet curtains trimmed with gold cords framed the windows. The carpet was crimson, decorated with an elaborate flower motif. The sofa and chairs were gilded and covered in gold upholstery. A heavy crystal chandelier hung overhead.

Miranda, herself, was equally striking in a turquoise-blue tea gown and a vast amount of pearls. She wore an impressive crown of hair done in an intricate style that must have taken hours to prepare. Louisa was certain their hostess was wearing a wig. Very few women of Miranda’s age—or any other age, for that matter—possessed such a great volume of hair. The rich brown color was equally suspicious.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stalbridge.” Miranda sparkled up at Anthony as he inclined his head over her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Fawcett.” He straightened, smiling. “You are a legend, madam. But, then, you know that. No actress has ever been able to replace you on the stage. I was fortunate enough to see your last performance as Lady Macbeth.”

Louisa nearly fell out of her chair. Anthony could certainly turn on the gallantry at will. Half an hour ago, when he had arrived in Arden Square to collect her for their appointment with Miranda, he had not seemed the least bit pleased at the prospect of meeting the retired actress. He had, in fact, been quite stunned to learn the identity of her informant.

“How the devil did you come to meet Miranda Fawcett?” he growled, following Louisa up into the carriage.

“I was able to do her a small favor shortly after I took up my career as a journalist,” Louisa explained. “She was grateful.”

“The woman must be nearing sixty.”

“I believe so, yes.”

Anthony leaned back against the seat and grew thoughtful. “In her day she was said to be the mistress of some of the most powerful men in the country.”

“So Emma told me.”

“There were rumors that she formed a long-term liaison with a man named Clement Corvus.”

“I believe Miranda has mentioned his name on occasion.”

“Louisa, the man is reputed to be a crime lord.”

“Surely not, sir.” She smiled serenely. “Had Mr. Corvus been a criminal he would have been arrested.”

“From what I have heard, he is far too clever to get caught. He is always careful to keep himself at arm’s length from the criminal activities from which he profits. They say he lives like a gentleman of wealth and means while running an underworld empire. On the street he is known as The Raven.”

The authority that rang in his voice captured her attention. She regarded him with sudden curiosity.

“You seem to know a great deal about Mr. Corvus,” she said.

Anthony hesitated. “He has been on my mind of late. I’ll be frank. The fact that you have a connection with his former mistress makes me extremely uneasy.”

“I do not believe that there is anything former about their relationship,” Louisa said, amused. “I have the impression that they are still quite close. Miss Fawcett makes an excellent informant. I would not be surprised if much of the information she has given me came directly from The Raven.”

“Why would he wish to assist a newspaper correspondent?”

She gave a tiny shrug. “Perhaps it amuses him. I know Miss Fawcett finds being my informant extremely entertaining.”

“Just what sort of favor did you do for her?”

“It is a long story.”

Watching Miranda glitter and glow now, Louisa felt a mix of amusement and admiration. At the height of her career, Miranda had been the most celebrated actress in England. She had also toured America to great acclaim. Although she had left the stage it was plain that she had lost none of her ability to charm an audience.

Miranda dimpled at Anthony. “You are very kind, sir. I must admit, sometimes I cannot believe that I have been out of the theater for so long. I miss it dreadfully. Real life can be so excruciatingly dull.” She flashed a knowing smile at Louisa. “At least it was until I made the acquaintance of Mrs. Bryce. I vow, she has brought a new zest into my drab existence.”

Anthony sat down in one of the gold chairs. “Mrs. Bryce does have a way of injecting a certain excitement into things.”

Louisa shot him a repressive glare. He gave her a polite smile.

“Indeed, she does,” Miranda said. She regarded Anthony with an expectant air. “She tells me that you are assisting her in one of her exciting little investigations, Mr. Stalbridge.”

“I thought it would be amusing,” Anthony said. “I, too, have found life a trifle dull of late.”

Louisa raised her eyes to the ceiling.

Miranda gave a throaty chuckle. “Mrs. Bryce will soon rectify that problem for you.”

“I have already noticed a marked change in the monotonous routine of my daily affairs,” he assured her.

Hah, Louisa thought. Nothing about his life could possibly be routine, let alone monotonous.

“I can well imagine that,” Miranda murmured. “One hears that after you returned from your extensive travels abroad a few years ago you immersed yourself in the business of managing your family’s finances.”

Startled, Louisa looked at Anthony for confirmation.

“It is dull work,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, it became painfully clear that I was the only one in the family with a head for investments.”

Miranda chuckled. “By all accounts you are, indeed, exceptionally skilled in that regard. One hears that you saved the entire Stalbridge clan from bankruptcy.”

“Our fortunes have historically tended to fluctuate somewhat,” he said politely.

Miranda winked. “Not since you took the helm. I trust your family is suitably grateful for your financial talents.”

He smiled. “Very few members of my family pay any attention whatsoever to finances. They only notice if there is suddenly no money conveniently at hand.”

Louisa felt the heat rush into her face. To think she’d once imagined that he had restored the family fortune via a career as a jewel thief.

She cleared her throat. “Thank you for seeing us, Miranda,” she said in a businesslike manner. “It was very kind of you.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been looking forward to it.” Miranda smiled. “I do so enjoy our little conferences.”

Anthony looked at her. “May I ask how you and Mrs. Bryce came to form your interesting association?”

“Hasn’t she told you?” Miranda raised her brows. “The truth is, sir, I am very much in her debt. Several months ago she came to me because she discovered that I was about to invest a considerable sum of money in an investment scheme that was being concocted by two socially prominent gentlemen.”

Anthony looked at Louisa.

“The California Mine Swindle,” she said.

“Ah, yes.” Anthony leaned back in his chair. “I remember it well. Grayson and Lord Bartlett were the two men behind the swindle. In the wake of the reports in the press, they were forced to retire to their estates.”

“The scheme was a complete fraud, of course,” Miranda said coldly. “It was designed to take advantage of people like me. People who possess money but who do not move in Society.”

“Yes,” Anthony said quietly. “I know.”

Miranda made a soft sound of disgust. “Grayson and Bartlett would never have dreamed of ruining any of their high-ranking acquaintances in the Polite World, but they did not hesitate to destroy those whom they felt were beneath them. I was not the only intended victim.”

Louisa gripped her muff very tightly. “They laughed about it.”

Anthony contemplated her with an enigmatic expression. “How did you come to learn of the scheme in time to warn Miss Fawcett?”

“It was a matter of the sheerest chance,” she said. “Emma and I attended an art exhibition one evening. The hall was very warm. I stepped outside to get some fresh air, and I overheard part of a conversation that was taking place between Grayson and Lord Bartlett. I did not catch all the details, but it was enough to know that they were plotting some villainy involving Miss Fawcett.”

“She came to me with the story,” Miranda added. “As soon as I heard the names of the two men I realized immediately that they must have been discussing my investment. I couldn’t understand what they were about. I have no head for that sort of thing, you see. So I mentioned it to a very good friend of mine who has an excellent brain for business. He grasped the implications at once and made some inquiries.”

“Miranda contacted me to thank me and to tell me what her friend had uncovered,” Louisa concluded. “I determined to inform the world about the swindle because there were a number of other victims. I made an appointment with the publisher and editor of the Flying Intelligencer and overnight I became I. M. Phantom.”

“And I became one of I. M. Phantom’s secret informants.” Miranda twitched her skirts into even more perfect, graceful folds and regarded Anthony with an expectant expression. “Now, then, Louisa said in her message that you wish to ask me some questions.”

“They are related to our investigation of Hastings,” Anthony said. He spoke deliberately. “We found some evidence indicating that he pursued a career as a blackmailer.”

Miranda made a soft, disgusted sound. “I have always considered blackmail one of the lowest of crimes.”

“Most of the items we found were personal possessions of young ladies that contained rather passionate references to a handsome lover,” Louisa said. “What we do not understand is how the items came into Hastings’s hands.”

Miranda nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you can tell me the names of any of the victims?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Louisa said. “We feel an obligation to protect their identities.”

“I quite understand,” Miranda said. “I would like to help you, but I’m not entirely sure what you want from me.”

Anthony looked at her. “You seem to know a fair amount about Hastings. You were able to tell Louisa the names of some of his business associates and that he might have a financial interest in a brothel.”

“Yes,” Miranda said. She winked at Louisa. “I, too, have my informant.”

“We do not believe that Hastings put together the blackmail scheme on his own,” Louisa said. “We know that he had at least one other employee, a man of business named Phillip Grantley, but Grantley put a pistol to his head two weeks ago.”

“What we would like to know,” Anthony said, “is whether Hastings has any other people working for him. Specifically a handsome, blond-haired man in his late twenties. We believe there is such a person and that he was the one who compromised the young ladies whose relatives were later blackmailed.”

“Ah, yes, now I understand,” Miranda said. “I do not know the answer offhand, but I will be happy to make inquiries. Will you give me a day or so?”

“Certainly,” Louisa said. “Thank you so much. Mr. Stalbridge and I are very grateful.”

“Nonsense.” Miranda waved one hand in a graceful gesture. “You know I quite enjoy our little adventures.”

“There is one more thing,” Anthony said.

Miranda gave him an inquiring look. “Yes, Mr. Stalbridge?”

“Forgive me if I am being overly personal, but Louisa tells me that you and Clement Corvus are well acquainted.”

Miranda’s laugh was low and sultry. “Indeed, we are, sir. For more than twenty years now.”

Anthony took an envelope out from an inside pocket of his coat. “In that case may I ask that you give him this with my compliments the next time you see him?”