He straightened and stood gazing out into the night. “Bloody hell, Lavinia, I am not even sure where to start.”

“Why don’t you begin by telling me why you took that ring from Fullerton’s night table.”

“Ah, you noticed that, did you?” Tobias smiled a little. “Very observant. You are making great progress in acquiring the skills of your new profession. Yes, I took the damned ring.”

“Why? You are no thief, sir.”

He reached into his pocket and took out the ring. For a moment he examined it in the light of the candle. “Even if I were inclined toward thievery, I would not have willingly pinched this particular bit of jewelry. I took it because I am quite certain that it was left there for me to find.”

Ice melted slowly down her spine. She walked to where he stood and looked at the ring on his palm. In the flickering candlelight she could make out a miniature gold coffin. Tobias opened the lid with the edge of one finger. A ghastly little death’s-head stared up at her from a bed of crossed bones.

“A memento-mori ring,” she said, frowning slightly. “They were quite popular in past eras, although why anyone would want to be constantly reminded of the inevitability of death is beyond me.”

“Three years ago, an aging countess, a wealthy widow, and two gentlemen of means died in a series of what appeared to be accidents and suicides. One afternoon I chanced to engage my friend Crackenburne in a discussion of the events. It occurred to me in the course of the conversation that, in each case, someone had gained substantially from the unexpected demise.”

“You refer to inheritances?”

“Yes. In all four cases. The end result was that several large fortunes, a couple of sizable estates, and a title or two changed hands.”

“What struck you as odd about that? Such things happen when wealthy, titled people die.”

“Indeed. But there were other aspects of the deaths that aroused my curiosity. The two suicides, for example, seemed unlikely to me. Crackenburne, who is always in the know when it comes to the affairs of the ton, was not aware that either of the two men who died in that manner suffered from melancholia or desperately ill health. Neither had sustained any recent financial losses.”

“And the accidents?”

“The aging countess went through the ice that covered a pond while out taking a walk on a cold winter afternoon. The wealthy widow fell down a flight of stairs while alone in her house one night. She broke her neck.”

There was a short silence. Reluctantly Lavinia looked toward the place where it seemed Fullerton had made a frantic attempt to avoid the fall that had killed him.

Tobias followed her gaze and nodded once. “Indeed, her death was not unlike Fullerton’s.”

“Continue, sir.”

Tobias resumed his slow pacing. “Crackenburne urged me to look into the deaths. Discreetly, of course. No suggestion of murder had been implied, and none of the families in question would have welcomed one.”

“What did you discover?”

“In the course of making some inquiries into the demise of the widow, I learned that her housekeeper had found a very unpleasant item of jewelry near the body.”

Apprehension made her palms grow cold. “A memento-mori ring?”

“Yes.” Tobias closed his hand tightly around the ring. “The housekeeper had served her employer for many years and was positive that the ring was not part of the widow’s collection of jewels. When I investigated the two suicides, I was told that similar odd rings had been found in the libraries of both men. Neither man’s valet recognized the ring.”

She was suddenly keenly aware of the slight chill in the night air. “I begin to perceive why you are so concerned about Fullerton’s death.”

“A fortnight after I began my inquiries, there was a fifth death. An elderly peer had apparently taken an overdose of laudanum. But this time I learned of the suspicious suicide almost immediately, thanks to Crackenburne’s connections. With his assistance, I was able to get into the house before the body was removed and study the bedchamber where the man had died. I found the ring on his desk. But that was not all I discovered.”

“What else did you learn?”

“There was also some mud on the windowsill. It looked as though someone had climbed into the bed chamber that night, perhaps to tamper with the laudanum. In the garden below the bed chamber, I discovered a scrap of fine black silk that had snagged on a tree branch. I eventually located the shop where it had been sold and got a description of the man who had purchased it.”

“Brilliant work, sir.”

“Other clues came to light.” Tobias paused. “I will not bore you with the rest of the details. Suffice it to say that one thing led to another and eventually I identified the killer. But he realized that I was closing in on him.”

“Did he flee the country?”

Tobias put one foot on the low stone wall and braced his forearm on his thigh. He appeared to be lost in whatever he was looking at on the dark horizon.

“No,” he said eventually. “He considered himself a gentleman who had challenged me to a lethal duel of sorts. When he perceived that he had lost, he chose to put a pistol to his head.”

“I see.”

“I found his collection of memento-mori rings together with his journal of accounts detailing the crimes stored in a hidden safe in his study.”

“Good heavens, he actually kept a journal of accounts?”

“Yes.”

“What of the rings? Why did he leave them at the scenes of his crimes?”

“I believe that the rings were his signature, his way of taking credit for the murders.”

She stared at him, appalled. “You mean he signed his horrid deeds the way an artist signs a painting?”

“Yes. He took pride in his skills, you see. Obviously, he could not risk boasting openly in his club, so he settled for leaving a memento-mori ring among the victims’ possessions.”

“Thank God you realized what he was about and put a stop to his career.”

“The entire affair was hushed up, of course. There was never any direct proof of murder, and none of the wealthy families involved wanted to invite the scandal of an investigation.” Tobias’s voice hardened. “I have often thought that if I had paid closer attention and acted more quickly, I might have saved some lives.”

“Rubbish.” She went to stand directly in front of him. “That is quite enough of that sort of talk, Tobias. I will not have you blaming yourself because you did not solve the case immediately. It sounds as if no one even realized that people were being murdered until you put the pieces of the puzzle together. Obviously you identified an extremely clever killer who would no doubt have continued to murder indefinitely if you had not stopped him.”

Tobias clenched his hand very fiercely around the ring and said nothing.

“Did this man commit murder merely for the sport of it?” she asked. “Or did he have some crazed motive?”

“There is no doubt but that he did it, in part, for the money,” Tobias said. “He took fees for each of the deaths. The transactions were all neatly recorded in the journal of accounts, complete with the dates of the deeds and the amounts he had received. He was quite careful to protect his clients. Their names were not written down. Evidently they, in turn, never knew the identity of the man they had hired to do cold-blooded murder.”

“A professional murderer for hire,” she whispered. What a truly appalling way to make a living. You said this man was a gentleman?”

“Indeed. He possessed excellent manners, an eye for fashion, and a good deal of charm. He was well-liked by both men and women. He never lacked for invitations. Belonged to two or three clubs. In short, he moved freely in Society.” Tobias looked at the little death’s-head.

“That was his hunting ground, you see.”

“Hunting ground. What an unpleasant turn of phrase.”