“What connection does Bamber have to Sayers?” Barnaby leaned back in his seat and pierced the man with a look that warned him he wasn’t going to intervene. If Jeb wanted to pummel him he could.
Myers flicked a worried look at Jeb.
“We know they work together,” Jeb added.
“They are cousins,” Myers admitted reluctantly. “Bamber’s mother is Sayers’ aunt or something like that. I can’t be sure. It’s best not to ask too much about Bamber or Sayers. I just know they are related.”
This was a major coup for the Star Elite. To find one person who was connected to Sayers and close enough to work with him was a significant achievement. Bamber was that man. Myers was an added bonus. Myers would be a treasure trove of valuable information on how the network operated, and would help the Star Elite thwart some of the gang’s endeavours, and trace the ring-leaders.
“So, this network of people you have working for you are all lower class workers who are what? Connected to the aristocracy, servants, or people in villages who just see more than they should and help themselves to the things they want? How does this system work?” Barnaby asked thoughtfully.
“Talk,” Jeb ordered coldly.
Dutifully, Myers began to speak. “We get people who live and work in or around snobs’ houses to work for us. Sometimes, to get them to start to work for us, we offer them more money than they would get anywhere else. Once they are established thieves they don’t get paid so much but are told to get more goods. Because they are used to the good money, they usually do as they are told. The ones who work in the houses also have to tell us what jewels or valuables, big paintings, and the like that house has. Whoever is in charge of that group gets someone to steal the items, and it is sold on if not handed to Bamber. Sometimes we rely on the workers to get whatever he specifically wants. Occasionally, Bamber takes it himself.”
“So Bamber gets everything that’s stolen, and can choose what he wants.”
“Sort of. The big items, paintings and the like are reported to him, and he decides if he wants them or not. Sometimes, like with the Squire’s jewels, he tells us what to get and where to find it.”
“But you don’t know how he gets this information,” Barnaby murmured.
Myers snorted. “Sometimes it's hard enough for the thieves to get this information.”
“You have to rely on people who work in and around the houses.” Jeb shook his head as he contemplated the cleverly thought out network.
He knew how hard some of the staff in the big houses worked. Even ground staff would watch the aristocracy come and go from their properties, and would be able to note who was wearing what jewellery, and that kind of thing. How they went about finding out what was inside the property was still open to conjecture at the moment. It could be below-stairs gossip, but Jeb couldn’t ignore the possibility it was most likely someone within the aristocracy who was feeding information back to Bamber.
Why, though?
“Of course,” Myers replied. “We tempt the people to work for us with money.”
“To begin with,” Barnaby snorted once he had stopped writing.
“Delilah Carney is one of your network of thieves who operate this area,” Jeb declared confidently.
“Yes. She is a woman who needs money, or the thrill of stealing,” Myers grinned.
Several more questions were fired at Myers in rapid succession after that. It was nearly midnight by the time silence settled over the room.
“What about the spate of thefts in London? Don’t tell me you don’t know anything about them. We are aware the local burglaries here are connected to the thefts from the big houses in London. It all works in the same way. I suspect that the items stolen in London are sold on in other cities, and the pieces stolen in the counties are taken to London to be sold. So, who is the spy within the aristocracy who is feeding Bamber information on what to take?”
“I-I don’t know. You need to ask Bamber. That’s nothing to do with me. I don’t work in London. I just fetch what I am told to get and deliver it where I am supposed to. Anything else you ask Bamber about, not me. I know nothing.”
“What happens when you hand the boxes of stolen goods over? Don’t tell me you don’t know because I know you bloody well do.”
Myers sighed heavily. “They get passed to several people before they are sold on to whoever wants them. I don’t know who. In my game, asking questions can get you killed.”
“You hand the goods over to Bamber then, or one of his minions?” Jeb smothered a yawn. His mind was racing with questions still, but he was exhausted.
“Bamber.”
“Always Bamber?”
Myers nodded.
“When is the next meeting?”
Myers looked from Barnaby to Jeb and sighed heavily again. His reluctance to give them the information they wanted was evident in the tone of his voice.