The Diamond Thief Read Free Page B

jewels.
    None of the other men in the city’s detective division were concerned – they just laughed when he brought up the idea that someone would try to steal one or both of the jewels. No one believed that anyone could break into the great Tower of London, and even if they did, the place was crawling with police and Tower guards, watching the gems every moment of every day.
    But Thaddeus just had a feeling. A hunch, you could call it. It had been keeping him awake for weeks, through all the preparations for the Shah’s visit. And now, now that the gems were here, in London…
    He shrugged off his damp coat. Sitting down at his workbench, he lit the Bunsen burner. It wasn’t really that late, after all. He could do a little more work on the glasses. Maybe he could get them working properly in time for the first reception tomorrow.
    As he worked, the night ticked onwards into day.

Two
    In Plain Sight
    “I am not wearing that!”
    Claudette, kneeling on the floor of her caravan, looked up at Rémy with raised eyebrows. Morning sunlight from the open windows dappled her face. “And why not? What is wrong with it?”
    “It is… it is…” Rémy threw her hands into the air. “A dress! A long one!”
    Her friend sighed and pushed another pin into place on the hem of the old gown before standing up to admire her handiwork. “Well done. I was not at all sure you knew what such a thing was.”
    Rémy crossed her arms. “It’s horrible… and uncomfortable. I won’t wear it.”
    “So what? You are going to walk into this reception – a reception that the Queen of England herself may be at – looking like the ragamuffin orphan that you are?” Claudette pointed to Rémy’s current outfit – a pair of tattered trousers that were too short, coupled with a rough blouse and belt. “This is not how young women usually dress, Rémy.”
    “It’s stupid,” Rémy said, sulkily, “all of it. Why does he want to make me do this, anyway? As if I do not know what I’m doing.”
    “Well, I for one am glad, ma chérie . I think once you go there, you will realize that what Gustave asks is the right thing. For once. Now, try it on. I need to see if I have fitted it correctly.”
    “No.”
    Claudette tutted. “You are forgetting the good side of having so many skirts, Little Bird.”
    Rémy frowned. As far as she could see, the only thing that skirts did was stop you from running away properly. “What do you mean?”
    Claudette lifted the wine-coloured material to show one of the petticoats underneath. She had stitched several pockets into it, and pointed to each one. “Lock-picks. Rope. Penknife. Scarf…”
    Rémy stared, and then began to laugh. “Very well,” she said. “I will try it your way. Just this once.”
    Claudette smiled, satisfied. “And what will you say? Once you get to the door? How will you make them let you in?”
    Rémy shrugged. “I have not quite worked that out yet. But I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
    * * *
    Later, Rémy stood in the Long Hall, slightly stunned by the rich swirl of music and the beauty of the noble men and women that filled the room. She looked down at herself and was suddenly relieved that Claudette’s nimble fingers were as quick and sure with a needle as they were with a stranger’s wallet. She felt out of place, but at least she didn’t look it.
    Rémy looked down at the old man whose hand was still tucked into the crook of her elbow. He had been her ticket into the Tower. She had arrived at the gate imagining that entry would be, if not easy, then at least not impossible. If she couldn’t get through the gate, Rémy thought, she could find a wall low enough to scale even in the long skirts that swamped her agile legs. She’d simply join the reception inside by a more circuitous route. But the imposing sight of the Tower had stopped her dead. The thick walls seemed to be layered, each against the other, higher and higher, and each more impervious than the