The Housekeepers(17)

“Every van you’ve got, Mrs. Bone,” agreed Mrs. King. “Every carthorse, come to that.”

“Have some donkeys,” said Mrs. Bone. “There’s a few in this room.” She shook her head, tutting. “You don’t rob a place when there’s a party going on. You wait till they’ve gone away, cleared off to the country, sent the butler down to the seaside for his week off. You don’t do it in high season, for God’s sake.”

Mrs. King often noticed this. Other people simply didn’t know how to take bets, how to set wagers. It showed such a disagreeable lack of imagination. She wondered if Mr. de Vries had noticed this shortcoming in Mrs. Bone. He’d built his empire without her help, after all.

She quashed the thought: that was a disloyal line of thinking, never to be expressed out loud.

“We want this job to have a little fizz, Mrs. Bone,” she said. “A little get up and go. Imagine it, ladies: the grandest house in London, licked clean on the biggest night of the season. People won’t be able to sleep for thinking about it. The papers will be full of it. And wouldn’t you want something from that house? A little clock, perhaps? Some drapes? A hearth rug for the nursery? Something wicked, something naughty, something stolen, just for you? Don’t you think you deserve it?” She gave Mrs. Bone a hard look. “We can add a fifty percent surcharge to the prices, possibly double, no question about it. And the best items can go straight to auction.”

“Auctions?” said Mrs. Bone. “My agents need weeks to set up auctions.”

“Then we’ll set them up,” said Mrs. King, not allowing her smile to waver. “We can get messages out to the big buyers in no time. You can pave the way for us. Let everybody know there’s a big seller in town.”

“I’m not using my name! I can spread the word, get my men lined up for anything I want, but I need deniability, right up until things kick off. That’s my rules, for you.”

“We’ll use a code name, then,” said Mrs. King. “Leave it to me.”

Jane-one raised her pencil. “How many rooms in the house, please?”

Mrs. King approved of practical questions. “Winnie, bring me the soup tureen.”

Winnie nodded and drew out a vast silver bowl from behind the sofa. Mrs. King opened the lid, showed it around the room with a flourish, the light reflecting in their eyes. “Schematics, ladies. Floor plans of the cellar, ground floor, saloon floor, bedroom floor, old nursery and guest chambers, servants’ quarters and attics.” She saw Hephzibah leaning forward, incredulous. There were delicate etchings on the underside of the tureen lid, carved in minute detail. “If you’re lost, make for the dining room. These will set you straight. Winnie has made paper copies, but you’ll need to burn those after reading.”

“That’s clever,” said Jane-one, taking her pencil out of her mouth, examining the tureen.

Mrs. King nodded. “And necessary. Now, Winnie, tell us about the doors.”

Winnie straightened. “There are four entrances to the property.” She looked around, checked they could hear her. “Front door. Tradesmen’s door. Mews door. Garden door. These doors are all double or triple locked. The front door is double bolted, too.”

“And who’s got the key, Mrs. King?” said Jane-two.

“I had it, once,” said Mrs. King. “But I surrendered my set the day I left. Now the butler holds them. Mr. Shepherd. Until they recruit a new housekeeper, that is.” She glanced at Alice. “We are going to do our level best to impede that, of course.”

Hephzibah’s glass clinked on the table. “Shepherd? I’m not going anywhere near him. Repulsive, odious man.”

Mrs. King saw Winnie place a hand on Hephzibah’s arm, whether to soothe or silence her she couldn’t say.

“Does someone need to charm the butler?” said Mrs. Bone. “Get him onside?”

“There’s no use recruiting Mr. Shepherd,” said Mrs. King. “He was Mr. de Vries’s man, utterly loyal.”

Mrs. Bone scratched her nose. “But if somebody were to use a little persuasion…”

Mrs. King shook her head. “No knuckle-dusting, Mrs. Bone, but thank you for asking. You’ve brought us nicely to a central point. We will not use violence, nor any incapacitating force, on any person, in that house. We will not break or damage any lock, window, entrance, or door frame of any kind.”

“It’s a question of insurance, Mrs. Bone,” said Winnie when Mrs. Bone scowled. “The house of de Vries holds a large policy against any act of burglary or theft. The terms of the contract are quite clear. A crime, if it has been committed, shall be evidenced by visible marks showing a violent entry to the property. Failing that, it shall be evidenced by a threat of violence of any kind against any person in the household.”

Mrs. Bone rolled her eyes.

“You see our conundrum, ladies,” said Mrs. King, snapping her fingers. “In either circumstance, the insurers would pay out the full portion of the policy.”

Alice twisted in her seat. “So?”

“So what?”

Alice looked alarmed, but she lifted her chin. “We’ll get our reward when we sell their property. Don’t they deserve to be compensated?”

A clock chimed peaceably in the hall.