Page 83 of Guardian
“It’s a ladder?” Art asked doubtfully.
“Well, metal bars,” James replied. “Old but anchored into the stone solid enough. The trapdoor is latched from the underside and easy to open. Push it up and turn to the right. You’ll see a door. That’s Simonson’s.”
“How big a door?” I asked.
“Smaller than average. About so,” James said, his hands sketching a rectangle the width of his shoulders that reached from the ground to his chest.
“Locks?” Art asked.
“Just one. Standard. Obviously, I didn’t attempt to open it.”
Art nodded.
“You should stay outside,” Amelia said to James. “So it’s just the two of them.”
“The door opens to the shop?” Art asked.
“With a door that size, no,” I said. “The mirror was horizontal, not vertical. So I think it’ll open in the stairwell that leads to the upper floor. From there, we’ll enter the main room, and the office, which will likely also be locked.”
Art scratched his chin. “Inside door’s no trouble.”
“And then there’s the safe.”
He gave a small smile. “Doan worry. I go’ the tools.”
“The most important thing is we must leave no trace,” I said. “If they suspect anything, they’ll examine the necklace one more time before they return it to the marquess.”
“That’s obvious, innit?” Art replied.
We were all silent for a moment, studying the map with James’s pencil marks, committing it to memory.
“I’ll have the boat turned around for when you return,” James said. “The tide will be running out, so it’s an easier row back to the boathouse. The entire thing should take no more than four hours.”
Art’s mouth twitched skeptically. “You ’spect this to go as planned?”
“No,” Amelia said, and James shook his head.
Of course not, I thought.
I itched to carry out our plan that very night, but Simonson didn’t leave London until the following day. Besides, James had assured us the waters would be most favorable late Friday night, barring a storm.
Friday morning, I woke to rain against my window, and my heart turned over.
Feeling almost feverish with worry, that afternoon I did the only thing I could to further our plan. I donned my disguise and retrieved the bracelet from Simonson’s. Although I had given it to them in a small black pouch, it was returned to me in a box with a ribbon and a red wax seal, with a large scrollingSfor Simonson’s. I drew a breath of relief; wax and a ribbon would be easy to remove and reattach.
By the time I emerged from the shop, the rain had stopped. From Hatton Garden, I went to James’s rooms, hoping against hope the additional rain hadn’t thwarted the dodge for the night. James’s expression as he opened the door told me it had. “The water’s going to be too high, Kit. It’ll have to be tomorrow.”
The thought of waiting yet another day before being able to release Sarah was nearly unbearable. “But the rain’s stopped! Can’t we at leasttry?”
“There’s no point,” he insisted. “The water level will still be dangerous, and we can’t get hurt.”
I strode back and forth in his room, my boots hard on the boards. I fidgeted and fumed until James pulled out a deck of cards and gestured to the seat across the table. “Come on, let’s play.”
“Cards?” I burst out. “Are you mad?”
He spread his hands, half the deck in each. The cut revealed the six of clubs. A terrible card to have invingt-et-un. I pushed away the thought of it being an omen.
“You can’t stew and fret like this, Kit. The plan’s solid, and there’s nothing to be done tonight. Spinning your nerves into a tangle isn’t going to help. You need to sleep and be ready for tomorrow.”
