“No, we know for certain the deaths are connected,” the marquess spoke up.
So the marquess had been brought in to assist with the investigation.
“There’s more,” the inspector said. “There is evidence at this last scene indicating that her majesty could be in danger. I wanted to warn her. Her security is of our upmost concern at the Yard.”
“I can assure you, Inspector, that the security for Queen Victoria is quite thorough. But we will take your suggestion under advisement,” Spencer said.
The inspector pulled a card out of the inside of his jacket and placed it on Spencer’s desk. “If you could pass this along to her. Should she have any questions, I am at her service.”
“Splendid.” Spencer tucked the card into his own jacket. “I will be certain to tell her majesty of your visit and your concerns,” Spencer said. “Rest assured that we will do whatever is necessary to protect our military officers. It would be devastating to our country to lose any more of them.”
The men said their goodbyes, then left. Spencer waited another moment, then lit a match and held it to the inspector’s card. The flame ate at the paper, consuming the letters of the man’s name, first in black, then in ash. Victoria knew about the murders; she was kept informed. But there was no reason to notify her of this particular visit.
It was laughable that Scotland Yard had contacted the marquess for assistance—as if he were an expert on the subject of Atlantis. The man had found a map, but he was a treasure hunter, nothing more. All the same, perhaps it would behoove Spencer to investigate this marquess.
Unlike the bloody nobleman who was merely obsessed with the lost land, Spencer had Atlantis in his blood, beating within his heart. He was from a long line of great warriors, and it was past time for them to regain power and finish what his ancestors had started.
Max and Justin made their way into the main room of Solomon’s. For a Friday afternoon, more people than usual filled the area. A familiar face smiled from the right-hand corner and waved the two of them over.
“Fielding,” Max said as they approached the table.
They shook hands.
Fielding folded up the newspaper he’d been reading and set it on the table.
It had only been a few months before that Fielding and his new bride had taken refuge at Max’s house during a dangerous adventure, and now they were both members of the exclusive club. “Where’s the wife?”
“Shopping.” Fielding looked over at the door. “She was supposed to meet me half an hour ago. She’s late, as usual.”
“You know Justin Salinger, right?” Max asked.
“We’ve met once, I think,” Justin said. The two of them joined Fielding at his table.
“Have you heard from the Raven?” Max asked Fielding.
Fielding leaned forward and tapped two fingers on the table. “The thing about my uncle is, he never makes his presence known until he either needs something or is setting a trap.” Fielding smiled. “I don’t suspect he’ll hide forever, though. There’s too much treasure out there waiting to be claimed.”
Max nodded. “He’s been causing problems for the men of Solomon’s for years. More than likely we haven’t seen the last of him.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” Fielding said.
A moment later, two more gentlemen stepped inside.
Max knew them all and waved.
Nick Callum and Graeme Langford sidled over to the table and took seats; Nick flipped his around and straddled it.
“It’s a compulsion with you to be different,” Graeme noted, pointing to Nick’s chair.
Nick cursed Graeme in response.
“Children,” Max chided, then laughed.
“How goes the Atlantis search?” Graeme asked.
Max shrugged. “New research of late, but I’m not certain it will lead to anything.”
“He got shot,” Justin added.