Captain Heron grasped the Viscount’s arm restrainingly. “Thank you,” he said. “Come, Pelham, there’s no more to be done here.”
He drew the unwilling Viscount towards the door, which the porter opened with alacrity.
The three conspirators descended the steps, and set off slowly towards Piccadilly.
“Dropped it in the street,” said Sir Roland. “Said so all along.”
“It begins to look like it,” agreed Captain Heron. “Yet Horry is certain the brooch was lost in that house. I imagine the butler was speaking the truth. Could anyone else have found the brooch?”
The Viscount stopped short. “Drelincourt!” he said. “By the lord Harry, that little viper, that toad, that—”
“Are you talking about that Macaroni cousin of Rule’s?” asked Captain Heron. “What had he to do with it?”
Sir Roland, who had been staring at the Viscount, suddenly shook him by the hand. “You’ve got it, Pel. You’ve got it,” he said. “Lay you odds he took the brooch.”
“Of course he took it! Didn’t we leave him with Lethbridge? By God, I’ll wring his damned scraggy neck!” said the Viscount wrathfully, and plunged off at a great rate towards Piccadilly.
The other two hurried after him.