Then his uncle said something to him and he turned, his profile still visible, his expression perfectly pleasant. Lady Reece was looking round too. She said something to her husband and he bowed in the direction of our box. Garrick nudged Luc, he looked across and bowed in return, then acknowledged people in other boxes as well.
‘Why are you lurking in the shadows?’ he asked.
‘Watching Elliott Reece. He saw you, gave you a look that would have broken glass – but he said nothing to his uncle. In fact he changed his expression to look positively amiable. There was no nudge in the ribs and There’s the enemy. We know Elliott hates us, but I don’t think Sir Thomas knows just how much and I don’t think he’s part of it. Not actively, anyway. Look, change places with me. Take these and watch Elliott and see his face when he looks at me.’
We swapped over and I sat in the centre of the box, leaning forward with my elbows on the padded velvet edge. Then Annabelle turned in our direction. I raised one hand in greeting and she gave a small wave. Elliott turned to see who she was looking at and saw me.
From the shadows I heard a sharp intake of breath and Luc swore softly under his breath. ‘I’d kill the bastard if he looked at you like that where I could reach him.’ Elliott looked away. ‘You are right. He is behaving with his uncle as though nothing is wrong.’
‘Did I hear you say something is wrong?’ James asked as he came back and handed us glasses.
Luc explained, moving out of the shadows into the light.
I was beginning to have doubts now. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t want his aunt and cousin to think anything is wrong. He has no reason to love us and the way James escaped last night will have just about put the lid on it.’
‘True.’ James was watching now, half-hidden behind Garrick’s broad back. ‘But there’s more to it than that. He’s behaving to Sir Thomas as though he’s a boy who is on his best behaviour, as though he is wary of his uncle. If those two are plotting together then I’m the Duke of Cumberland.’
He drew a sharp breath as Elliott looked in our direction again. ‘Oh yes, he hates us. It is way out of proportion for someone as pleased with himself as he is.’
‘We know he tried to trap James, now I am convinced that is the man who tried to kill us,’ Garrick said. He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of wine. ‘I wonder if he has worked out who I am yet.’
‘I doubt it,’ Luc said. ‘People see what they expect to see – and that’s a young man who’d be hard-pressed to describe his own valet, let alone someone else’s, I’d wager.’
The orchestra, who had been adding to the racket by tuning up, finally began to play real music. I recognised Mozart, which made me feel smug and was a distraction from Elliott’s poisonous glances. No-one else seemed to pay much attention and the talk went on over the orchestra.
‘Why is no-one listening? They’ve paid good money to be here.’
‘They come to see and be seen. Why do you think we’re dressed like this?’ Luc’s smile was mocking as he gestured around him. ‘It will calm down a little when the singers appear.’ He glanced at the programme. ‘Idomeneo. Mozart.’
I’d never heard of it and I somehow doubted I was going to get a very clear idea of the plot either, not judging by the expression on Luc’s face. ‘What?’ I poked him with my fan.
‘I think I am beginning to get a glimmering of what is going on,’ he said.
We turned to him as the singers stopped onto the stage, but frankly they could have been a Queen tribute band for all I noticed. ‘The devil you have,’ Garrick said.
‘Come and sit here.’ Luc pulled his own chair back from the front of the box. ‘This is as good a place as any to talk – no-one can hear us. Don’t look too earnest, keep the wine going.’
We moved together into a rough circle, James topped up glasses, we all smiled.
‘You’ve solved it?’ I asked.
‘Some,’ Luc said. ‘But I think I understand the blackmail. ‘My guess is that Elliott Reece is mixing with some bad company – radicals and worse. He is being flattered into believing that he is the sort of brilliant young man held back by the British system who would be given his opportunity to shine under an enlightened revolutionary government. I doubt he could plot his way out of a chicken coop, but the men who are pulling his strings don’t care about that – he’s in a government office and that’s all that matters to them. He’s probably spilling small secrets like handfuls of sand. Nothing major, but the little crumbs that a good intelligence officer can build into solid facts.’
‘And George found out?’ James asked. I saw his fingers tighten on the arm of his chair.
‘No. I believe Elliott’s uncle did and he has probably detached the stupid creature from his new associates by now, or thinks he has. But Sir Thomas picked something up that made him suspect that a British intelligence officer was sniffing around Elliott – at least, that’s my guess. He’d know it wasn’t one of his own men, but he’d reason that his rival in the office downstairs probably has his own agents he is keeping very quiet about. And we know that one of them is the Count. Sir Thomas needs to find out what is going on. He can’t use his own men because of compromising his nephew and Salmond’s men are loyal to him.’
‘So he has to put pressure on one of them to betray Salmond and work for him,’ Garrick interjected.
‘That’s my reasoning.’ Luc half-turned to the stage as a tenor began an aria and we pretended to listen too, just in case someone was watching us, then gradually came back to face into our circle.
‘Somehow he found out about Coates’s secret life and began to blackmail him. But Coates wasn’t a very good spy and he would have been in anguish over betraying Salmond and his men, I suspect. My guess is that Sir Thomas gave him money so he could move into the bigger rooms which were also easier for Sir Thomas to visit – no long flights of stairs where he might be seen and a room well removed from three bright and inquisitive young men upstairs. He’s the slender, dark man Dettmer saw one evening.’
‘And if things went wrong the fact that Coates suddenly had the money for better accommodation could be used against him,’ Garrick said. ‘So, what did go wrong?’
‘George would be no good at deception,’ James said, his face grim. ‘He would have failed to identify the intelligence officer in his section and he certainly wouldn’t have got anything out of the Count who is far too wily a bird. Reece probably loaded on the pressure until he cracked, saw himself as a traitor…’
‘And he probably believed that Reece would expose his lover if he failed to give him the information he was demanding,’ I added. ‘That’s why he killed himself instead of running, don’t you think?’