The Diamond Thief Read Free

will be one of these for you. You can share it with that light-fingered friend of yours. And her strange little whelp, if you really do insist on feeding it.”
    Rémy held herself still, but she wanted to hit him. How dare he talk about Am é lie like that? Just because she was different, just because she didn’t speak. How dare he –
    “Well?” Gustave bellowed. “What are you waiting for? Go! Prepare!”
    Rémy gritted her teeth and left, slamming the door as she ran down the steps. The sound was masked by Dorffman and his mournful violin, the ripple of sad strings rising into the dead, wet night.
    * * *
    Thaddeus reached his front door as the rain began to fall in earnest. He stuck his hand in his coat pocket, searching for his key, and then remembered that he didn’t have it. It was on his desk at Scotland Yard. He’d left it there by accident earlier, when he’d been sent on yet another wild goose chase by the Chief. At the time he’d told himself he’d go back for it, but then he’d noticed that the circus had arrived in town, and…
    With a sigh, Thaddeus looked up at the window belonging to what his landlady generously termed his “suite”. It was really just one room with a water closet next to it, but it was all he could afford and at least it was close to the police station. The young policeman saw that he was out of luck – his window was shut, and most likely locked. Mrs Carmichael was very particular about security, and very suspicious of fresh air. He looked at the door again, and the bell pull hanging beside it. It was no good – he’d have to ring it, even though getting her out of bed would probably mean a burned breakfast as punishment in the morning.
    He regretted pulling the bell as soon as he heard her angry footsteps in the hallway. He should have just gone back to the station. He could have slept in his chair…
    The door was wrenched open a crack. A poker, a candle and one eye appeared around it.
    “It’s me, Mrs Carmichael. I am most terribly sorry. I –”
    “Mr Rec!” The door was flung wide. His landlady crossed her arms over her nightgown and looked him up and down, eyes narrowed. “And where, might I ask, is your key?”
    “On my desk,” Thaddeus began again. “I’m sorry, but –”
    “Your desk,” repeated Mrs Carmichael accusingly, as if he’d somehow said something disgusting. She didn’t approve of his work with the police. Detecting, she had told him once, was nothing but nosing about in other people’s business. It seemed that such a thing should only be done from behind one’s curtains, if her habits were anything to go by. Not that he’d dared to remark as much to her.
    Thaddeus stepped forward. He wanted to get out of the rain, but she didn’t seem inclined to move. “May I –”
    “Mr Rec,” Mrs Carmichael said in outraged tones, as he stepped into the light. “Have you – have you been brawling?”
    Thaddeus looked down at himself. He still had sawdust clinging to his knees, his shoes were scuffed, and the sleeve of his coat arm was torn.
    “Oh,” he said. “No – no, of course not. I was at the circus. There was this girl, you see. She fell. Or at least, I thought she had, so I was trying to –”
    Mrs Carmichael rolled her eyes before turning away. “The circus. A girl. Of course. Heaven forbid you be anywhere reputable. Honestly, if you had a mother I would send you home for a drubbing. That’d sort you out, and no mistake. Come along, if you please, Mr Rec. I don’t want to catch a chill in that nasty night air. And besides – some of us have real work to do in the morning.”
    She disappeared down the hallway, taking the yellow light of the candle with her. Thaddeus shut the door behind him and sighed as he drew the bolt before trudging up the stairs to the second floor. What an evening. He’d only gone to the circus for work. Well, for potential work, anyway. He had noticed – Thaddeus had a knack for noticing things – that