The carriage rolled on, unblocking the lane, and I continued on my way to the hackney stand.

Once I reached Grenville's house in Grosvenor Street, we rode in his carriage to our appointment with Lord Clifford.

Lord Clifford's study, where he received us, was crammed with books up to its high ceiling, the tall windows letting in light. I saw no dust anywhere, but the place smelled musty, as though damp had gotten into the books.

Lord Clifford was a tall man with a bull-like neck and small eyes. He wore clothes that rivaled Grenville's for elegance, but he looked more like a farmer in his landlord's clothes than a gentleman of Mayfair.

"Lot of nonsense," Clifford said to us after Grenville introduced me and told him our purpose. "Waters never took the blasted necklace. I told the magistrate so, and he released her. She is home, safe and sound, back below stairs, where she belongs."

Chapter Four

Grenville and I stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You made your inquiries for nothing, gentlemen," Lord Clifford said. "All I had to do was have words with the magistrate. If my wife hadn't gone ranting to all and sundry that the necklace had been stolen, her maid would not have been arrested at all. Serves her right for not leaving me to deal with it. Some housebreaker took it, must have done. The Runner had it all wrong."

"I would not say our inquiries were for nothing," I began.

Clifford gave me a look that told me I should not speak before my betters. "Of course they were. I told you. The bloody thing's probably on the Continent by now. Long gone."

"What the captain means is that we may have found your necklace," Grenville said. He removed a box from his pocket and opened it to reveal the necklace Matthias had run to ground yesterday.