Where did Celeste conceal the relic before she went to meet Pelling on the night of her death? I cannot forget the valet’s assurance that the only person who could have taken the bracelet undetected was Mrs. Rushton. But she had no motive.

She put down the quill and looked out into the garden. The spidery threads of melancholia were drifting around her, threatening to entangle her in one of her rare moods. She considered putting aside her journal and turning to some poetry.

No, she thought, given the unfortunate ending to the Medusa affair, it would behoove her to return to work on writing an advertisement for the papers. New business must be found as soon as possible. There was some refining yet to be done on her notice. She was rather taken with the notion of adding a line or two about references being available upon request.

Perhaps what she really needed at that moment was some fresh air to raise her spirits, she decided. She should have gone with Emeline and the others to view the paintings and shop for fans.

References.

Fans.

The familiar snap and sizzle of intuition crackled through her, leaving her very nearly breathless. Very deliberately, she reached for her pen and wrote down her conclusion to see if it still made sense when viewed as a statement of fact.

She stared at what she had written for a long time, searching for flaws. She saw none. But there was only one way to be certain.

The Banks mansion loomed above the small, overgrown park, as bleak and cheerless as ever. When the housekeeper opened the door, she seemed surprised to see a live person on the front step.

“Is Mrs. Rushton home?” Lavinia asked.

“Aye.”

“Please inform her that Mrs. Lake wishes to speak with her concerning her missing bracelet.”

The housekeeper did not look overly optimistic about the prospects of an interview, but she went off to inform her mistress that she had a caller.

Mrs. Rushton received her in the gloomy drawing room. She frowned in disappointment when she saw that Lavinia was alone.

“I had rather hoped that Mr. March would accompany you,” she said. “Or that nice young man Mr. Sinclair.”

“They are both occupied with pressing matters of business this afternoon,” Lavinia said, taking the seat across from Mrs. Rushton. “I have come to give you a full report.”

Mrs. Rushton brightened somewhat at that news. “You recovered my relic?”

“Not yet.”

“Now, see here, I made it quite clear that I am not about to pay you unless you find it.”

“I think I may know where it is.” Lavinia touched the silver pendant that she wore at her throat. “Or perhaps I should say that I think you know where it is.”

“Me? That’s ridiculous. If I knew the whereabouts of the bracelet, I would never have agreed to pay you to retrieve it.”

“I believe that you were put into a trance by a mesmerist and instructed to take the bracelet to a secret location. There is every reason to hope that the relic is still there and that it may be recovered. But I will need your cooperation.”

“Good Lord.” Mrs. Rushton’s eyes widened in horrified amazement. She put her hand to her bosom. “Are you saying that I may have been unwittingly entranced?”

“Yes.” Lavinia unfastened the silver chain around her neck. She held it in front of her so that the pendant caught the light. “Mrs. Rushton, please trust me. I want your permission to induce another mesmeric trance. While you are in it, I will ask you some questions concerning what happened the day the bracelet disappeared.”

Mrs. Rushton looked bemused at the sight of the dangling pendant. “It is not easy to put me into a mesmeric trance, you know. I am a woman of extremely strong will.”

“I understand.”

Mrs. Rushton did not look away from the gently swinging necklace. “See here, are you an expert at this sort of thing?”

“Yes, Mrs. Rushton. I am really rather good at this sort of thing.”

She left the ugly mansion ten minutes later, intent only on her next destination. Luck was with her. There was a hackney standing quietly in the square almost directly in front of her.

She raised a hand and waved madly to get the coachman’s attention. He made no move to get down from his box to assist her up into the carriage. She was in too much of a hurry to be offended.

She opened her mouth to give the man the address at the same time she opened the door of the vehicle.

It was then that she realized the hackney was already occupied.

Maggie was inside. Her hands were bound with rope. Her eyes were huge and stark with fear above the gag that had been tied around her mouth.

She was not alone in the vehicle. Oscar Pelling sat beside her. He held a knife to her throat.

“Get in,” he said to Lavinia, “or I will kill her right here. Right now. In front of you.”

“I WATCHED YOUR HOUSE FOR HOURS, MRS.

Lake, waiting to see if you would make any move that would indicate that you might have been successful in your quest to find the bracelet. You were my last, best hope, and I thank you for confirming my faith in your deceitful and cunning ways.”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Lavinia whispered.

“Really, you are so very typical of your sex, madam. Lying, cheating, potentially deadly Medusas, every last one of you. But knowing the nature of women as I do was what persuaded me to follow you rather than Mr. March today. It is clear he is your lover and no doubt completely under your control. Get in.”

Lavinia climbed slowly into the closed cab of the hackney and sat down on the seat across from Pelling and Maggie. Pelling gave her an approving smile. She caught a glimpse of the monster lurking just beneath the surface of his eyes and shivered.

“What made you conclude that I know the location of the Blue Medusa?” she asked warily.

“There is no other reason why you would pay another visit to the Banks mansion today, is there?” He smiled with satisfaction. “Obviously you came here to conduct business with Mrs. Rushton, and the only business that involves the two of you is the Blue Medusa. I trust that you have not yet concluded your bargain and turned over the bracelet. Because if that is the case, I no longer need you, do I?”

“You must let Maggie go,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll do that.” Pelling prodded Maggie’s throat with the tip of the knife. A drop of blood appeared. “She is a cheap whore who must be punished for betraying me. Is that not right, my sweet?”

Maggie closed her eyes and whimpered behind the gag. Lavinia touched the silver pendant, in what she hoped looked like a nervous gesture. “You must let her go. You no longer need her, and killing her would be too risky.”

Pelling looked at her with blood-freezing eyes. “Do not presume to tell me what to do. I knew that you were trouble on the first occasion when we met. Probably should have got rid of you then.”

“That would have been foolish. After all, you had just lost your wife under tragic and mysterious circumstances. The murder of the mesmerist who had been treating her would have been a bit much for the local authorities, don’t you think? They might have started asking embarrassing and exceedingly awkward questions.”

“Bah. The authorities did not worry me in the least. The reason I did not punish you then was because you were not worth the time and trouble. You had, in point of fact, done me a favor. You contrived to rid me of an increasingly troublesome wife, and I was left with her inheritance. Under the circumstances, it would have been churlish to kill you.”

“Churlish.” Lavinia swallowed. “Yes. Quite. But now there is the problem of Maggie.”