“Yes,” Griff said.
“One of the men who approached me was a clerk,” Jarrod said. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but now it seems strange that a clerk, who had never approached me before, would approach me and request personal information about a friend. Especially, a friend’s wedding.”
“Did you recognize him?” Colin asked.
“He clerked for Mayhew for a while,” Jarrod answered. “I used to see him there, but he left months ago, and when I asked Mayhew what had happened to him, he said the ambitious young man had resigned to accept a more lucrative offer from—”
“Davies Silk and Linen Importers,” the others answered in unison.
“What color were his eyes?” Colin demanded.
“Damnation, Colin! How the hell should I know what color his eyes were?” Jarrod snapped.
“How about a name?” Sussex said.
Jarrod snapped his fingers again. “Something with an aitch. Harper, Hooper...” He looked up. “Holder. I remember the name plaque on his desk. J. Holder.”
“I remember Holder,” Griff said.
“So do I,” Colin added. “And the son of a bitch has a rather extraordinary pair of blue eyes.” He headed for the door, but the others stopped him.
“This requires brains, Colin,” Griff said. “Not brawn. If we’re going to catch a fox, we need a good plan and a sturdy trap. Exercise a bit of patience now, and we’ll get him. Tear off like a hothead, and he’ll get wind of it and go to ground.”
The four Free Fellows looked at one another and agreed.
“We know where to start,” Colin said. “But we’re going to need help.”
“Not to worry,” Jarrod told him. “We’ve already selected two candidates we mean to approach.”
“Who?” Colin demanded.
“Daniel’s cousin, Barclay,” Griff told him.
“I don’t know Barclay,” Colin said.
“Sure you do,” Jarrod interrupted. “He’s that damned whiner, Jonathan Manners. Most recently, the Earl of Barclay.”
Colin nodded. “Manners is a good man. He used to whine, but he’s grown up. And he is completely trustworthy.” He looked at Jarrod. “Who’s the other?”
“Courtland.”
“I’ve only met him once or twice,” Colin said. “But I liked what I saw.”
“Our opinions exactly.” Jarrod nodded in satisfaction.
“Will they help?” Colin asked.
“Manners will, without a doubt,” Daniel told him. “As for Courtland...” He shrugged his shoulders.
“See what you can do,” he said to Sussex. “You’re in charge of recruiting. But do it fast, because I don’t intend to go all the way to France to set this trap.”
“You won’t have to,” Jarrod promised, grinning at Colin. “Oh, and for your information, you missed one.”
“One what?”
“Message to be deciphered. It’s in the dispatch pouch, and it’s addressed to you. In code.” He reached over, lifted the pouch from the table, and tossed it to Colin.
Colin opened it, retrieved the message, and read: