The Peculiar Case of Lord Finsbury's Diamonds: A Casebook of Barnaby Adair Short Novel (The Casebook of Barnaby Adair) by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online Page B

the covers were drawn, Penelope set down her napkin and looked first at Barnaby, then at Stokes. “Right, then—back to the case. You may bring your sustaining brandies to the drawing room. We’ll be much more comfortable there.”
     After once more helping Penelope to her feet, Barnaby picked up the brandy decanter and two crystal glasses and, with Stokes, followed their ladies’ slow progress into the front hall and on into the drawing room. He could easily have carried Penelope and saved her from what was patently a draining—and frustrating, for she was never one to do things slowly—walk, but his mother had informed him that even short strolls were good for Penelope and therefore the baby, and, as he was well aware, there was also the little matter of her pride.
     So he reined in his protective impulses and, knowing that, beside him, Stokes was doing much the same, ambled at a crawl in their ladies’ wake.
     Finally they were all settled, with Penelope and Griselda seated opposite each other in the corners of the twin sofas nearer the fire and Barnaby and Stokes sitting alongside their wives; their long legs stretched out, ankles crossed, the men cradled glasses of fine brandy in their hands.
     Savoring a sip of his brandy, Barnaby waited for Penelope to open the discussion; he had no doubt she would.
     Somewhat to his surprise, she started with a frown. “Unlike most cases, where, at this stage, we’re usually mining for facts, in this instance it seems that we have a multitude of individual facts, some of which will have relevance to the murder and others which won’t, but, at present, you have no way to distinguish which facts fall into which category.”
     From the sofa opposite, Griselda nodded. “Which facts bear on the murder itself, and which are part of other events going on concurrently at that house party.”
     “For instance,” Penelope went on, “from all you’ve related, I’m left with the strong suspicion that Lord Finsbury invited Mitchell to the house party in order to play matchmaker—that his lordship was swayed by stories of Mitchell’s financial success, and that, in turn, suggests that Lord Finsbury wants his daughter to marry money.”
     “But,” Griselda said, “is that because the family needs money—and given the shabby furnishings, that might well be the case—or was Lord Finsbury’s invitation merely the norm for a father wanting to see his daughter well established?”
     “Regardless,” Penelope said, “does the reason, the motive, behind Lord Finsbury’s invitation have any bearing on why Mitchell was killed?” Her frown deepening, she spread her hands. “How can we know?”
     “And then there’s the romance between Frederick Culver and Gwendolyn Finsbury,” Griselda pointed out, “and also the romance between Rattle and Harriet Pace.”
     “Indeed.” Penelope nodded. “And romance always complicates things—people act in ways they never normally would when in the throes of romance.” She shook her head. “Which brings me back to my original statement—with this case, we are swimming in dozens of potentially inconsequential facts, some of which hint at possible motives, but none of which we can yet be sure are actually connected to the murder.” Hands smoothing over her distended belly, she blew out a breath, then said, “As far as I can see, we currently have four questions before us. Who killed Mitchell? Why was he killed? How did he come to have the Finsbury diamonds in his pocket? And why was he bringing them back, and to Gwen, rather than Lord Finsbury?”
     Barnaby nodded. “That’s a reasonable summation.”
     Stokes stirred and looked at Penelope. “What do you think of Lord Finsbury’s suggestion of why Mitchell was returning with the diamonds?” Stokes switched his gaze to Griselda. “That he was seeking to return them to Gwen to regain his position in her good graces?”
     Penelope pulled an expressive—impressively