Page 17 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

The inspector stood when she entered, and he bowed his head. The act should have calmed her nerves, but when he lifted his head, his gaze was sharp and penetrating. Not a fool, this one. Just stick to her story, and if possible, lure him into answering her own questions.

“I’m sure caring for a house of this size has its daily dramas.” His tone wasn’t exactly condescending, but it carried the ring of a practiced speech.

If she were a betting person, she’d say he didn’t have much time for the wealthy. But his boss probably took the rich quite seriously.

The inspector had taken a chair across from the sofa, so Stella sat across from him, purposely sitting in the middle of the couch.

Thankfully, the ones made in this era weren’t plush, so she didn’t have to worry about sinking down into a less dominant position.

Before the inspector could say anything, a footman came in with the tea service, which he placed on the small table between them.

“How do you take your tea, inspector?” Stella poured two cups, not bothering to ask him if he wanted one.

He glanced down, somewhat taken aback. Perhaps she should have asked, but if it put him off his game, that was okay by her.

“Just a touch of milk.”

Once the tea preparations were complete, she sipped hers and gave him a pleasant smile.

“The viscount said you might have some questions for me.” She didn’t think it hurt to remind the inspector that the viscount would most likely want to know how the meeting went. Nothing like throwing around a title.

“Yes, well, I would have spoken with you last night, but I understand you were recovering from an injury and thought it best to let you rest.”

Her anger instantly spiked, but she shoved it down and remained cool. She had to remember what year this was, and whether she liked it or not, she was the weaker sex in his mind.

The inspector sipped his tea, more out of propriety than anything else. “Are you feeling better today?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you for asking.”

He gave her a long look. “You’re not English.”

Well, that took him a while. “I’m American.”

“I see.” He said it as if that explained everything, and this was all nothing but a waste of his time. “Can you tell me what you remember of the events?”

Stella replayed the evening—the push of the crowd, the confusion, her fussing over spilled champagne, and the gentleman who saw the whole thing.

“Dame Ellingsworth was quite upset over the loss of a precious heirloom. I didn’t see anyone else concerned about stopping the thief, and my instincts just took over.

I thought if I could follow him, I could find the duke’s security men and help point the way.

It wasn’t until I ran through the solarium that others took notice. ”

“And what happened after the other men noticed the thief?”

“The thief ran right through the group. He seemed to have caught the men off guard.” She placed a hand at the base of her throat, sorry that she hadn’t thought to carry her fan.

She held back her smirk. “I suppose I got so caught up that I chased the man down the steps. That’s when he stopped and turned toward me.

I tripped on my own skirts and fell, hitting the side of my head on the ground.

” She touched the spot that was still sensitive, and the inspector leaned over, his eyes widening when he noted the newly forming bruise. ”

“That was quite dangerous. What possessed you to do such a foolish thing?”

Here we go. She sipped her tea as she considered his question.

“I haven’t been in England very long, and Dame Ellingsworth has been like a mother to me.

I knew how important the necklace was to her, and I just reacted.

” It required every ounce of patience to lower her gaze in a submissive manner.

“I know how foolish it was, but I felt like I had to do something.”

“An act that most likely interfered with the duke’s own security men.”

She decided to go with the old adage that if you didn’t have anything nice to say, then keep your mouth shut. So, she nodded and forcibly relaxed her lips that were staging their own rebellion by forming a thin line of anger.

The inspector sipped his tea and said, “I understand you got a good look at the thief.”

“Yes. His attire suggested he was a nobleman. He was a bit tall and of average build. His face was clean-shaven. Not much to really say, other than I would recognize him if I saw him again.”

“You were on the back lawn, where there was very little lighting. How can you be so sure?”

“There was some light from the back of the manor, and I was close enough to see him quite plainly.”

“Yes. I see.” He glanced down and scratched his jaw as if he were thinking. “You’re sure he didn’t have a mustache or beard?”

“Quite sure.”

When the inspector seemed to be out of questions and looked like he was ready to leave, she added, “I think he was a sailor.”

The inspector’s head popped up. “Why would you say that?”

“It was the way he walked.”

He stared at her as if she’d suddenly spoken a different language.

“I’ve spent some months on a ship coming over from America.” Good grief. It was as if she were having dinner with the smuggler, McDuff, again, creating stories to keep him interested. “You get to notice a sailor from others by the way they walk. Like they’re still on a ship.”

He continued to stare at her, his eyes a bit glazed. It was easy to tell he had stopped listening at some point, or maybe he was thinking of the best way to extricate himself from this crazy woman. He finally came out with another, “I see.”

He suddenly stood. “I think I have everything I need.”

Stella rose and stepped from around the table to escort him out. “Perhaps I could provide enough details for someone to sketch his face.”

He hesitated as if he were considering it. “I don’t think we’re at that stage yet.”

He didn’t believe she’d seen the thief. “So what are your next steps to finding the thief and Dame Ellingsworth’s necklace?”

“It will be quite difficult the find the thief with so little to go on, and the necklace will most likely have already been sold off.”

“I heard there was another theft similar to this one before the duke’s ball.”

They were in the foyer now, and Stella glimpsed Barrington walking to the front door, no doubt having been listening.

“Yes. I’m afraid so, but while the robberies appear similar, we can’t assume one had anything to do with the other.”

“You don’t think it will happen again?”

“Oh, quite doubtful. Now that the police have been engaged, it’s quite unlikely anyone will attempt such a thing again.”

When they reached the door, Barrington opened it for the inspector. Before the man made it through the door, Stella touched his elbow, making him turn back.

“The viscount will be very interested in hearing your progress on the matter.”

The inspector looked surprised for an instant, but he forced a smile. “Of course. Good day to you, my lady.”

Stella stood behind Barrington as they watched the inspector walk down the steps and enter his coach without a backward glance.

Barrington shooed Stella back and shut the door. “That went well enough.” Barrington watched for her reaction, knowing quite well she could go off at any moment.

“He’s not going to do anything about it.”

“No. Not unless there are more thefts.”

“There will be. That’s a given.”