“I will tell you. I’ll explain everything. Let’s go in and sit down.”
Theo gestured toward the closest room to them, which turned out to be what the Morelands called the French salon, a large formally decorated room with an ornate marbled fireplace and furniture in the style of Louis XIV. The group shuffled into the room, with Theo carefully bringing up the rear. He closed the double doors behind him and, as they did not lock, stood with his back to them.
Everyone else sat down on the sofa and chairs in the center of the room, then turned expectantly to Dennis. He started his story again, telling them how Julian Coffey had tried to kill him, then had left him for dead.
“Are you sure it was Julian?” Barchester asked, frowning. “I mean, if he had on a mask…”
“It was Coffey,” Dennis told him flatly. “I spoke to him. I recognized his voice. It could not have been anyone else. The villagers did not speak English, and Theo was flat on his back with a fever out in the main cave. Besides, I have spoken to him several times since then. Obviously he wanted you to continue to think that I had died. That Theo had killed me. But Julian has known for years that I am still alive.”
He went on to describe Coffey’s continuing thefts from the village, though in a somewhat abbreviated version, leaving out much of what he had told Theo and Megan about the people of his village. He was interrupted frequently by exclamations and questions. When he reached the end, detailing his frantic trip to rescue his daughter, his father jumped up with a loud oath.
“That murderin’ bastard!” He glared at Barchester. “Have you no sense, man? Has this fellow Coffey pulled the wool over your eyes? Or are you in league with the devil?”
“No! I—I promise you!” Barchester looked shaken. He stared around the room at the others. “I had no idea! I cannot believe it. Julian is—he seems to be a great man. He has helped me, helped all of us. He has—I thought he had powers that no ordinary man could, that he was…sent.” He looked at them pleadingly. “He has talked about tonight, of course, how special and important it is. He—he even spoke of the possibility of sacrifice. In the past we have brought objects of value to give to the gods—gold and diamonds and things of that nature.”
Frank Mulcahey let out a snort. “Ah, you’re a green one, aren’t you? Gifts for the gods, in a pig’s eye. Gifts for Coffey.”
“He healed Lord Cavendish of pneumonia,” Barchester told him stiffly.
“And how did Lord Cavendish die?” Theo put in harshly. “Your great man Coffey told Dennis that he helped the old man along at Lady Cavendish’s request.”
“What?” Barchester’s eyes widened and he looked from one to the other. “No! That is impossible. Cavendish was old. Ill. It was a blessing that he finally died.”
“A blessing to Lady Cavendish,” Megan responded dryly.
Barchester turned to Dennis. “Are you sure? He told you that?”
“Yes. He told me a great deal about what he was doing. He is proud of the way he has deluded all of you into thinking he is all-powerful. The worst thing, though, is that now he is beginning to believe his own nonsense.”
“Oh, my God.” Barchester sank his head into his hands. “What have I done?” He raised his head and gazed at Dennis bleakly. “He said the gods required blood. But he intimated that it would be an animal. A goat, like the Incas used. Surely he cannot mean to kill a child!”
“He can, and he will,” Dennis returned coldly, “if we do not stop him.”
“We will stop him,” Frank told him firmly. “We will go over there and get the girl from him.”
“Sorry, Barchester,” Theo told him. “I am afraid that we will have to lock you up. I will make sure you have a cot to lie on and water to drink. But we cannot let you loose to tell him.”
“I wouldn’t,” Barchester protested. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
“That I’m not sure of.”
Barchester looked abashed. “I know I have given you no reason to like me. I have been naive. Worse, I guess. I have gone along far too willingly in my own deception. I—let me try to make it up to you. Let me help you.”
“How?” Dennis and Theo regarded him with identically guarded expressions.
“I can get you inside. I will sneak you into the museum before the ceremony starts. I know where Julian keeps the keys. We can go down to the basement and find the room where he is keeping the girl, and get her out of there before the ceremony.”
Theo shook his head. “How can we trust you? How can we be sure you will not tell Coffey about our plans and help him hide the girl somewhere else?”
Barchester stiffened. “I give you my word as a gentleman.”
Theo arched a brow. “I don’t think that is good enough. Not when a girl’s life is as stake.”
“It would be helpful if he sneaked us in,” Dennis pointed out.
“Lock him up,” Frank suggested. “Don’t let him out until we are ready to go over there. That way he cannot give away our plans to Coffey. We can make sure that he leads us to your daughter.”
For the next hour or so, they hashed over their plans, until finally they settled on Frank’s suggestion of locking Barchester in a room until it was time to rescue Caya, then taking him with them to guide them. They decided to leave right after dark, when they would be less noticeable sneaking into the museum, but before the other participants started arriving for the ceremony.
“Do you have guns for us to carry, Moreland?” Frank asked. “We should be armed.”
“I have a couple of revolvers,” Theo said, eyeing him askance. “But surely, Mr. Mulcahey…you are not planning on going.”
“Of course I am. Why the devil wouldn’t I?”
“Da, no, you might get hurt,” Megan said without thinking.
“Oh, I might, might I?” he replied, putting his fists on his hips pugnaciously. “So it’s feeble I am now?”
Megan sighed, realizing she had said exactly the wrong thing. “No, I don’t think you are feeble. But we cannot have too many of us there or we shall be too easily noticed.”
“‘Us’?” Frank raised his eyebrows so high that they threatened to disappear into his hair. “‘Us’? So you’re saying that you are planning to go in, but I am too many?”
Megan scrambled to think of the right way to phrase her words to keep her father from objecting, but Theo was there before her, saying smoothly, “We need all the help we can get, Mr. Mulcahey. But Megan is right. We cannot have too many people entering the house, or someone will be bound to notice. But we will need to have someone in reserve—in case we get into trouble. If you and Megan could wait on the grounds or in the carriage, where no one could see you, then if we don’t return in a reasonable time, you could sound the alarm.”