
HE REACHED forward and took the ruby from the lawyer's hand. Sharpe nodded.
"That'll be worth a bit, " he agreed. Henri Lorcet petulantly snatched the ruby back. "But this, " he said, "is not worth 40, 000 francs." He put the stone into a pocket, then took from his small case a sheaf of papers, a pen and a bottle of ink. "You will write to this Monsieur Plaquet, " he told Sharpe, pushing the pen and paper across the table, "introducing your good friend Maitre Lorcet and saying that he is taking over the custody of the gold." "Won't work,»
Sharpe said flatly, staring at the Lawyer, "It had better work! " Lorcet snapped. Sharpe shook his head. "I've got a wife, Lorcet, " he said, "a thieving woman in England, and she stole all my money because I wrote my London banker a letter saying she could be trusted. So Monsieur Plaquet and I have an arrangement. He doesn't release any money except to me. Personally."
He tapped his chest. "Me." Lorcet glanced at Lucille who, startled, managed to nod. "It's true, " she whispered, meaning it was true that Jane Sharpe had stolen her husband's money, though whether anything else Sharpe had said was true, she did not know. "I have to go to the bank myself, " Sharpe went on, "with my key. Otherwise? Nothing." "So where is the key?" Lorcet demanded.
Sharpe glanced at a rack of keys hanging beside the kitchen door, Lorcet nodded permission, and Sharpe stood and took down a great black heavy key that looked as old as time, and Lucille at last began to understand that he was playing a game, for the key opened no vault in Caen, but instead unlocked the chateau's chapel.
