Page 63 of Inventing Vivian

“Heard about that. A pity. Mr. Pang—he was a good man.”

Vivian nodded, glad she didn’t have to go into further detail about that part of the crime. “If someone were to wish to purchase the horses, might you know how to... get word to the person who has them?”

“I might.” His eyes narrowed, and he watched her so closely, she was certain he could see right into her thoughts. “Looking to redecorate with an Asian theme, are ye, Miss Kirby?”

“No, I... I mean, we...” She stumbled over the words.

“We want to catch the man responsible for the robbery,” Sophie finished for her. “A friend of Miss Kirby’s has been accused, and she hopes to clear his name.”

Mr. Barnaby blinked, raising his brows as he looked at Sophie, then back at Vivian. “Well, I did not expect that.” He frowned thoughtfully. “You hope I might have the resources to arrange a meeting with the thief.”

“Yes,” Vivian said. She hoped he wasn’t offended by the assumption.

“If he catches a whiff of the police, he won’t be there.” Mr. Barnaby looked at Sophie as he spoke. He was apparently somehow aware of her engagement to a police inspector.

“You do know who he is,” Vivian said.

“I know lots of things, dearie. The wisest of them all is knowin’ when to keep my head down and stay out of trouble.”

“But a man’s life hangs in the balance,” Vivian said, feeling frantic. Her entire plan depended on his willingness to help.

“What ye’re proposing—’tis impossible, Miss Kirby. The man will smell a trap a mile away.”

“But could you meet with him?” she asked.

“If indeed I knew who he was... and I’m not sayin’ I do...” He held up a finger. “Yes. I could get word to him. Whether he chooses to meet or not, I couldn’t promise.”

Vivian smiled, ready to tell him the next part of the plan.

“But I won’t do it.”

Her smile fell.

“The smallest hint of a trap,” Mr. Barnaby said, “and there’d be a price on my head faster than a sailor can down a pint.”

“I do not hope to trap him, sir. I hope to photograph him. For evidence.” She winced. “Or I hoped you might.” She opened her notebook and set it on the table, showing him the drawings. “Without his knowledge, of course.”

Mr. Barnaby came to the table and bent down to study the drawings.

Vivian and Sophie exchanged a glance. At least he hadn’t turned them away outright without even looking at the schematics. Was there still a chance?

Mr. Barnaby covered his mouth and snorted, and then snorted again. He made a sound like a cough, and Vivian realized he was laughing. After a few more snorts, his laughter grew louder, turning into full-blown guffaws. He laughed so hard that he held his side and leaned against the table for support. “My dear Miss Kirby.” He wiped his eyes, still chuckling. “I don’t believe a woman has ever continually astonished me as ye have.”

Vivian wasn’t certain whether his words were complimentary or not.

“Will you help us, then, sir?” Sophie asked.

“Aye, my lady. I will indeed. All you had to do was ask.” He winked and rubbed his hands together. Mr. Barnaby’s skeptical countenance had entirely reversed to one of eager anticipation, and Vivian wondered if his earlier refusal to participate in the scheme had been an act.

He called to the back room, and the boy, Will, brought a chair. Mr. Barnaby sat to compose a letter.

“Do you think he’s hoping to sell?” Vivian asked as he wrote.

“Aye, that I do. If he doesn’t have a buyer already, he’ll be impatient to rid himself of the merchandise as quickly as possible.”

“Faster than a sailor can down a pint,” Sophie said, grinning.

“Right ye are, my lady.” He grinned back.

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