A Thief in the Night by Stephen Wade Read Free Book Online

little heap of papers over there.’ He pointed to a corner which could not be seen from where Perch sat. The man immediately dashed over to investigate, and the others followed.
    ‘Well … I can’t tell what might have gone or what should be there. Though it is my financial cabinet that appears to have been raided.’
    ‘Any money taken? Bills?’
    ‘I wouldn’t know. Alice sees to all that. She’s my accounts clerk you see, bless her. She’s very organised. Everything in its place.’
    They all stood, staring at the pile of papers. Lord George’s mind was working hard. ‘Clearly, Mr Perch, this cabinet has been searched. Someone knew what they were looking for, as nothing else has been touched as far as we may tell. No door has been forced. Nothing, it seems, is amiss here.’
    ‘I’ll check upstairs, Mr Perch, if you wish?’ Lacey suggested, and the man nodded. The professor walked from room to room, taking in the grand, broad landing, wide enough for children to play. But this was no house for the young. In fact it was peculiarly undisturbed. There were shining dressers, shelves and cupboards everywhere, and the solid walls were positively crammed with paintings, mostly watercolours of English rural and seafront scenes. He noticed one very large drawing of the Calsworth Hotel, Brighton. This was obviously the place owned by Mr Perch. Lacey noticed the name of the artist at the bottom left – no less a person than Humphrey Coppice RA. Everything in the house suggested the best, as if everything Perch placed in his home was permanent – something for the future. ‘Nothing ever gets moved,’ Lacey murmured to himself. ‘It’s like ghosts live here.’ Then, catching himself, he started back down the staircase when he felt a chilly draught at his neck. Turning, he spied an open window.
    Lacey took a closer look. It had been forced with something hard and sharp. There was a dent and a rough edge where some wood had been forced from the frame. There was a telltale boot-print on the stair. It was a clumsy job. He called for the others.
    ‘Yes, a rough fellow, desperate … not a professional burglar Mr Perch,’ Lord George said.
    Perch was now curious. ‘Lord George … what exactly is it that you do?’
    ‘I’m rich as Croesus. I don’t do anything except play. My father left me four properties and a large slice of Wiltshire. But I do, however, have a hobby. I study criminals, as does Professor Lacey here, and I have to tell you that this does not make sense…’
    He was interrupted by the slam of the front door and then a woman’s voice calling up the stairs, ‘What doesn’t make sense? Who are these men, Papa?’
    It did not take long for Alice to confess that she had been waiting for the man she knew as Lord Lenisham at Paddington, where he was supposed to meet her from the Oxford train. As she told her father the sad story, she felt sure she had been deserted by the man, as Lord Lenisham, at Paddington, where he was supposed to meet her. Lord George was watching her, beginning to understand why she would attract men. Alice was petite, fair-haired, with the complexion of an English rose – healthy, with an adorable face. Somehow, even swaddled in a heavy coat, he almost fell for her himself, but then that was something he did rather easily, and he had to pull himself up and ask a question.
    ‘Dear Miss Perch, this man … could you describe him for me?’
    ‘Are you a police officer? Who are these men Papa?’ she asked again.
    Lacey explained before anyone else could speak. ‘Miss Perch, I am Professor Harry Lacey, and this is my friend, Lord Lenham-Cawde.’
    She frowned. ‘What? Not another lord! Believe me I’ve had enough of aristocrats! William … he was … he …’ Here she began to sob, and her father put his arm around her shoulder and gently guided her into the nearest sitting room, followed by Lord George and Lacey.
    After a strong drink, Alice gradually began to put her words