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This seemed to finally penetrate through the haze of Jamieson’s obstinance. His head sank back onto his pillows and he closed his eyes, a flush of color tinging his cheeks. “The clothing press.” He indicated the piece of furniture near the foot of his bed. “Top drawer. Under the cravats.”

Trevor was closest, so he reached out to comply. He rummaged for but a second before removing a wooden framed case. Turning it toward us, he revealed the four coins still nestled inside.

“?’Twas as ye said,” he told Gage. “I never meant tae do any livin’ person harm.

Only tae help Innes. But ’tis still wrong.

” He shook his head. “I was only foolin’ myself tae think otherwise.

” Then his bright gaze shifted to meet mine and then Maclean’s.

“But I had nothin’ tae do wi’ the collapse.

I’ll place my hand on the Bible and swear it. ”

I believed him, regardless of any swearing. Especially since, for once, he’d given us a direct answer.

“I’d switched the coins and ’twas movin’ toward the stairs when it happened.” He grimaced, closing his eyes. “Thought for a moment ’twas the wrath o’ God upon me. That would o’ been better than the truth.”

Having no interest in hearing him castigate himself, I pressed him on another point. “But you do know something?”

His eyes opened to stare at me intently.

“Something pertinent.”

“Ye’re quite the perceptive one. I’d heard that aboot ye.”

I wasn’t sure if this was meant as a compliment or criticism, but he continued before I had much time to contemplate it.

“Aye. I recognized this Mr. Fletcher. He was one o’ the auctioneer’s assistants? Short, light brown hair? A mole on the side o’ his head?” He touched a spot above his left ear.

“Yes.”

“He’s from Fife. Or he used tae be. Five years ago.”

“Let me guess? Kirkcaldy.”

His expression was grim. “Four o’ his cousins—all young women—were killed in the aftermath o’ the collapse o’ the church balcony.”

I pressed my hands to my mouth to try to stifle my horror. Jamieson saw it anyway.

“Aye. Heartbreaking. Left the mother o’ three o’ the girls destitute. Reliant on charity and whatever other family members could send her.”

“Like a nephew,” Henry suggested with an arch of his eyebrows.

I supposed at least we now knew Mr. Fletcher’s probable motive, heartbreaking as it was.

Mr. Rimmer had indicated that Fletcher had worked for Winstanley for five years, so he must have moved to Liverpool soon after the tragedy.

I wondered if he’d been sending money back to his aunt, as Henry had guessed.

Perhaps he’d even planned to journey on to Kirkcaldy to visit her after the auction in Edinburgh was over. It was just a few hours’ north.

What had he thought when he’d discovered the auction was for Lord Eldin?

Had he recognized his name? Or had the realization not dawned until he saw the portrait of him hanging in the study?

He must have heard Lord Eldin make all his empty proclamations.

He must have been furious that nothing had been done to help his aunt.

That nothing had been done to prevent it all from happening again to someone else.

And so he’d sought to have his revenge and make his point.

But it hadn’t worked. Not as he’d hoped.

The connection to Kirkcaldy had been noted.

Efforts had been made to secure the private residences of the wealthy.

But no one was focused on public buildings or the housing of those less affluent.

The current laws and practices weren’t being debated by those who could effect change.

The world was moving on again. What might he do to stop that?

“Did Mr. Fletcher realize you’d recognized him?” Gage asked Reverend Jamieson.

Jamieson’s voice rasped as he responded. “I…I dinna think so.”

Gage turned to Maclean even as he pressed Jamieson. “But you don’t know for certain?”

“Nay.” He observed the men’s silent communication. “Is that a cause for concern?”

“He’s already injured, and possibly killed, another man tae keep him from talkin’,” Maclean told him. “So we shouldna take any chances. No’ while Fletcher is still missin’.”

Jamieson sat up in alarm. “My wife. She’s gone tae visit one o’ our granddaughters.”

“I’ll see that she makes it home safely,” Maclean assured him.

“And I’ll leave two officers here tae make sure ye’re no’ disturbed.

” His gaze sharpened. “And that ye dinna try to leave. Least no’ until it can be determined what charges you’ll be facin’ for the theft o’ these,” he added, taking the case containing the stolen coins from Trevor.

The reverend didn’t attempt to argue, perhaps still being too alarmed by the notion of Fletcher attacking him or his wife.

I didn’t know whether that was the cause of his most recent bout of coughing or the amount of talking he’d been doing.

Either way, I waited until he’d quieted and reclined back against his pillows again before asking one last question.

“We believe that Mr. Fletcher is planning another act of sabotage. And we have some reason to suspect it may be at a church on Easter Sunday.”

Jamieson blanched as white as his sheets. “Good Lord in heaven!”

“Do you have any idea which one he might choose?”

He appeared to consider the question but then shook his head at the futility. “There must be more than fifty churches in Edinburgh alone. No’ to mention the surroundin’ villages. How could I ken?”

And how were we going to inspect and warn them all? It was a monumental task.

“Well, if you think of something, even the smallest hint, please send word,” I urged.

“I will,” he promised. “And…I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused. The delay. Had I ken…” He grimaced. “Weel, I’m sorry.”

Gage, Trevor, Henry, and I all departed, crossing over to the park at the center of George Square.

There we all waited in uneasy silence for Maclean to issue instructions to his men and join us.

The sun had decided to emerge from the clouds, and I squinted into it toward the dark slate rooftops.

The brightness of the sun’s rays partially blinded me, so much so that while I knew there were chimneys and dormer windows—I could even detect their outlines—I couldn’t actually see them. Much like Fletcher’s next move.

“Do you believe him?” Gage asked as Maclean joined us, looking thoroughly disgruntled and ready to tussle if someone gave him the least provocation. It was clear Gage was talking about Jamieson.

Maclean glanced over his shoulder toward the reverend’s home, and then rolled one meaty shoulder. “Aye.” His sharp gaze returned to Gage. “Same as you.”

“Then presumably Mr. Fletcher is working alone,” Henry ventured.

Maclean grunted, his eyes still directed pointedly at Gage. “Hoo certain are ye that Fletcher intends to cause some sort o’ structural collapse on Easter Sunday?”

“Not certain at all,” Gage conceded. “But somehow he knew we’d become aware of his drugging Mr. Rimmer and slipping out of the White Horse on the night before the floor collapse, and he took flight rather than risk being questioned.

He might have then fled to anywhere, but instead he remained in Edinburgh and even sought out Mr. Rimmer and ended up attacking him to keep him silent. ”

“Are we certain that was Mr. Fletcher?” Henry queried, perhaps feeling the need for someone to point out the potential flaws in our reasoning.

“No, but it wouldn’t be the first attack he’s made on someone.

” Gage’s gaze shifted to look at me. “If it wasn’t Jamieson who pushed Kiera in front of that carriage, then it stands to reason that it was Fletcher, presumably as we were getting too close to the truth.

” He leaned forward. “And consider that no one else seems to have a motive to have harmed Mr. Rimmer. And no one else was in the right place to have done it.”

“At least, no one that we know of,” I admitted, crossing my arms as I tried to ignore the uneasiness Gage’s words had caused by reminding me of Fletcher’s attempt on my life.

“But hopefully Mr. Rimmer will awaken soon and be able to confirm our suspicions, and tell us what Mr. Fletcher was so intent that we not learn from him.”

“Ye presume it’s tae do wi’ a second target.” Maclean spread his greatcoat aside, planting his hands on his hips. “And because o’ that letter tae the editor o’ the Evening Courant , that it’s tae be some sort o’ church on Sunday?”

Gage began to grow defensive. “It’s all we have to go on, and something I should hate to ignore and then be wrong about, considering the consequences.”

I grasped hold of Gage’s arm. “We also now better understand his reasoning in the first place. Why he sabotaged that joist at Lord Eldin’s former town house.

” I shook my head. “But his goal wasn’t achieved.

He risked everything to gain revenge and force changes, and neither happened. Now that he’s been discovered…”

“What does he have to lose by causing another collapse?” Trevor finished for me.

I nodded solemnly. “Especially if he believes the end justifies the means.” That it was simply a necessary evil that others might be killed or injured in the pursuit of progress and justice. “I don’t believe he can stop. Not until he either achieves his goal or he’s apprehended.”

“His conscience won’t let him,” Henry added in agreement, his auburn hair appearing even redder in the sunlight.

“Aye, that’s all weel and good, but it’s no’ somethin’ I can take tae my superiors,” Maclean grumbled. “They’ll expect proof, and we have none. No’ that he’s goin’ tae sabotage a church.”

“What if I go with you,” Gage offered. “Perhaps I can persuade them.”

Maclean looked doubtful. “Sure and ye can try, but I’m afraid they’re no’ so imaginative.”

“You don’t think they’ll warn the churches?” I asked in alarm.