Page 39 of When You Rescued Me

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Blast it all, gentlemen. We all know that when pickpockets become greedy, they take to highway robbery. When highwaymen become dissatisfied, they turn to burglary.” Sir John thumped his fist to the table. “I do not need to tell you that if a highwayman who is as cutthroat as the leader of the Bardsey Gang has decided to take that leap with someone who considers himself that fellow’s superior, we have a serious issue on our hands.”

“We share your concern, m’lord,” Jealous said. “We pressed Norris hard for a name, but he claimed he did not know it.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yes, m’lord. He’s far from our most reliable sneak, but he’s one of the easiest to read.”

“And, you, Ross.” Sir John turned, his dull gaze straying somewhere over Samuel’s shoulder, but the lines on his brow conveying his focus. “You say this theft will take place at a large house, with many people present?”

“Yes, m’lord. And that Grimsby plans to steal a lady’s big pier.” Samuel grimaced. Even though he’d heard the words himself, repeating them made them sound all the more nonsensical. “I wish I knew what that meant.”

“A lady’s big pier.” Slowly and deliberately, Sir John repeated the phrase. “That is the key to this mystery, gentlemen. If we can but discern what those two crooks meant by it, it will tell us the item they mean to steal and, if we are fortunate, where it is located.”

“Clarke and I can return to The Merry Piglets to question the men Ross overheard,” Jealous said. “They may be willing to tell us more if it is their only means of avoiding a long stay at Newgate.”

“True, but by so doing, we alert Grimsby and his supposed partner to the fact that we are onto them.” Sir John rubbed his stubbly chin thoughtfully. “Ross, are you able to recall whether the man said a lady or the lady? In this case, I believe a definitive article makes a significant difference.”

Samuel replayed the conversation he’d overheard in his mind. “The,” he said. “It was the lady’s big pier.”

“You are completely sure?” Sir John asked.

“Yes, my lord. I recall thinking they were speaking of someone in particular.”

“Not simply someone in particular,” Sir John said. “But someone in particular with a title.”

The title of Lady. Of course. Now that Sir John had pointed it out, it appeared obvious.

“Do we know of any titled ladies who own a pier?” Clarke asked.

“And a big one, at that?” Jealous added dryly.

“It is long past time to dismiss that interpretation of what Ross heard, gentlemen,” Sir John said, doing little to hide his irritation. “Those rogues were most assuredly not referring to a platform standing above a body of water.”

“As you say, Sir John.” Clarke spoke with a hint of apology, but the magistrate paid him no mind.

“These felons you overheard, Ross.” Sir John’s brows were drawn together in a look of intense concentration. “They spoke like typical lower-class Londoners, I assume.”

“Yes, my lord.” Samuel had no idea where the magistrate was going with this line of questioning, but it was not his place to ask. “There was nothing unusual about the way they spoke.”

Sir John’s previously anxious expression evolved into a knowing smile. “I am most glad to hear it!” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you gentlemen know how the lower-class citizens of this fine city would pronounce pierre?” He did not wait for a response. “Ha! I’ve heard more than enough mutilation of French words in my day, but that one is almost recognizable.”

Samuel looked at Jealous and Clarke. He sincerely hoped they understood the magistrate’s meaning better than he did. If not, they were sunk.

“You believe the fellow Ross overheard used the word pier in place of pierre?” Clarke asked.

“I am certain of it,” Sir John said. “Especially as Lady Telford has been broadcasting far and wide that she commissioned the jeweler James Cox to create a pendant with an emerald of uncommon size and that she plans to wear it for the first time at the winter ball she is holding at Telford House in a little over a fortnight.”

A moment of complete silence followed the magistrate’s explanation, broken only when Jealous cleared his throat.

“Forgive me my ignorance,” Jealous said, “but what precisely is a pierre? And what does it have to do with Lady Telford’s choice of necklace?”

Relief flooded through Samuel. Perhaps he was not the only person in the room without a supposedly basic knowledge of French words and expensive jewelry after all.

“Pierre,” Sir John said, “is the French word for ‘rock’ and is occasionally used by those in Society to refer to a gemstone that has been set in a ring, brooch, bracelet, or necklace. In Lady Telford’s case, I believe it is being used to describe her newly acquired—and by all accounts—staggeringly large emerald.”

Jealous released a low whistle.