Sebastian gave a slow, nasty smile. “If that’s the way you want to play it. I hope you have your affairs in order.” He bowed and started to move away.
Perlman raised his voice. “Wait! What does that mean? What are you going to do?”
Sebastian pivoted to face him again. “I don’t need to do anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if the French already suspect that the stone they’re looking for might now be in your possession. You see, Napoléon is under the impression Hope’s diamond once formed part of the French Crown Jewels. And as you know, the Emperor is not averse to killing in order to get the jewels back.”
“But I don’t have it!”
“Somehow, I suspect Napoléon’s agents won’t be content to simply take your word for it.”
Perlman threw a quick glance around and lowered his voice. “Someone’s been watching me.”
“Really?”
Perlman nodded solemnly. “I’ve seen them once or twice. But usually it’s just a feeling I get. It’s unpleasant. Not to mention . . . unsettling.”
“Have you told the authorities?”
“So they can laugh at me? Hardly.” Perlman licked his lips. “Listen; I’ll tell you what I know. But if you try repeating anything I say in a court of law, I’ll deny it to your face.”
“Go on.”
“You’re right; Uncle was selling the diamond for Hope. He even showed it to me several days before he was killed.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“I was under the impression your uncle didn’t like you much. So why did he show it to you?”
“You didn’t know my uncle, did you?”
“Fortunately, no.”
“He was obsessed with beauty and inordinately proud of the items that came into his possession—even if they belonged to someone else. He liked to show them off.”
“So where is the diamond now?”
“I don’t know. He had it in a red Moroccan leather presentation case when he showed it to me. I found the empty case on the floor of the parlor the morning after the murder. Presumably, Yates took it when he killed my uncle.”
“Except that Yates didn’t kill Eisler.”
A condescending smirk spread across the other man’s face. “The authorities seem to disagree with you.”
Sebastian ignored the jibe. “Have you searched the house for it?”
“Of course I’ve searched for the damned thing! You think I want to pay what Hope is demanding for it?”
“Did you ever find your uncle’s account books?”
“No, I haven’t found those either.” A tart edge had crept into Perlman’s voice.
“Did it ever occur to you that both the diamond and your uncle’s books could very well be hidden in the same place?”
“Yes, it has occurred to me. Do you take me for a fool? I tell you, I’ve looked everywhere. I’ve even started sorting through stuff that obviously hasn’t been shifted in decades.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around the house myself?”
Perlman laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?”
The other man stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then shrugged. “Have a go at it, if you like. I’ll send a message to Campbell, telling him to expect you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
“Uncle had some peculiar interests.”
“What kind of interests?”
But Perlman simply shook his head and said, “You’ll see.”
“I don’t get why this nephew fellow ’as suddenly up and decided to be all cooperative like,” said Tom as Sebastian turned his horses toward Holburn.
“Perhaps because he’s afraid that whoever killed his uncle might try to kill him too.” Sebastian guided his horses around a brewer’s wagon drawn up before the pub at the corner. “Or it could be because he killed his uncle himself, and now he’s afraid he’s got Napoléon’s agents after him. Fear can be a powerful motivator.”
Tom opened his eyes wide. “Ye reckon ’e might be next?”
“It’s certainly possible. We seem to be dealing with some decidedly lethal-minded people.”
Tom lapsed into a thoughtful silence but broke it only a few minutes later, saying, “What ye expectin’ to find in that old house? Ye already been there twice.”
“True. But my previous ventures were both interrupted.”
“What ye think ye mighta missed?”
“At this point? Far too much.”
Sebastian was raising his hand to rap Eisler’s tarnished knocker when the door was jerked open and held wide by a beaming Campbell.
“I’ve just received Mr. Perlman’s message,” said the aged retainer with one of his trembling bows. “And may I say, my lord, how thrilled I am to be allowed to assist you with one of your investigations? Positively thrilled.”
“Ah . . . excellent,” said Sebastian, stepping inside. He was beginning to realize that an overly enthusiastic witness could in its own way be as much of a problem as a stubbornly taciturn one.