Eyes glittering, Harry hauled in a breath then expelled it irritably.

Propping himself on one arm, he raked his hair out of his eyes.

"What the devil's the time?"

"Nine," Dawlish replied, already at the wardrobe.

"But you've got visitors."

"At nine?" Harry turned over and sat up. "Salter--and he's brought that agent of the missus's-- Mr Mabberly."

Harry blinked. Draping his arms over his knees, he stared at Dawlish.

"I haven't married the d.a.m.ned woman yet."

"Just getting in some practice, like." Dawlish turned from the robe with a grey coat over his arm.

"This do?"

Ten minutes later, Harry descended the narrow staircase, wondering if Lucinda would prefer a grander place when they stayed in town. He hoped she wouldn't--he'd been renting these rooms for the past ten years; they felt comfortable, like a well-worn coat.

He opened the door to his study and beheld his visitors, Salter standing by the desk, Mabberly, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, perched on the chair before it.

At sight of him, Mabbedy rose.

"Good morning, Mabberly." Harry nodded and shut the door.

"Salter."

Salter returned his nod but refrained from comment, his lips compressed as if holding the words back.

Stiff as a poker, Mr Mabberly inclined his head fractionally.

"Mr Lester. I hope you'll forgive this intrusion but this gentleman--' he glanced at Salter '--is most insistent that I provide answers to questions regarding Mrs Babbacombe's affairs that I can only describe as highly confidential." Decidedly prim, Mr Mabberly brought his gaze back to Harry's face.

"He tells me he's working for you."

"Indeed." Harry waved Mr Mabberly back to his chair and took his own behind the desk.

"I'm afraid we are in pressing need of the information Mr Salter has requested of you, in a matter pertaining to Mrs Babbaeombe's safety." As Harry had expected, the mention of Lucinda's safety stopped Mr Mabberly in his tracks.

"That is," Harry smoothly continued, 'a.s.suming you do, in fact, know the answers? "

Mr Mabberly shifted, eyeing Harry somewhat warily. "As it happens, I do--it's necessary for one in my position, acting as the company's representative, to be absolutely certain just whose interests I'm representing."

He shot a glance at Salter, then brought his gaze back to Harry.

"But you mentioned Mrs Babbacombe's safety.

How can the information you requested be important? " Succinctly, Harry told him, detailing no more than the bare bones of the presumptive plot; Mr Mabberly was businessman enough to readily follow their hypothesis.

As the tale unfolded, his open features reflected shock, outrage-and, eventually, a dogged determination.

"The cads!" Slightly flushed, he glanced at Harry.

"You say you intend taking out a warrant against them?"

Salter answered.

"We've cause enough for a warrant provided we can find evidence on this guardianship business-- without that, their motive's uncertain."

"So." Harry fixed Mr Mabberly with a flat green gaze. "The question is will you help us?"

"I'll do anything I can," Mr Mabberly vowed, his voice ringing with fervour.

Even he heard it. A trifle shocked, he hurried to excuse it.

"Mrs Babbacombe's been very good to me, you understand--there aren't many who would appoint someone as relatively young as myself to such an important position."

"Of course." Harry smiled, endeavouring to make the gesture as unthreatening as he could at that hour of the morning.

"And, as a loyal employee of Babbacombe and Company, you would naturally be anxious to a.s.sist in ensuring your princ.i.p.als' personal safety."

"Indeed." Obviously more comfortable, Mr Mabberly sat back.

"Mrs Babbacombe is indeed Miss Babbacombe's sole legal guardian." Again, a slight flush rose in his cheeks.

"I'm perfectly sure because, when I first took up my position, I was uncertain as to the point--so I asked. Mrs Babbacombe's always a model of business etiquette--she insisted I see the guardianship deed."

Salter straightened, his expression lightening.

"So-- not only do you know she's the sole guardian--you can swear to it?"

Mr Mabberly nodded, swivelling to look at Salter. "Certainly. I naturally felt obliged to read the doc.u.ment and verify the seal. It was unquestionably genuine."

"Excellent!"

Harry looked at Salter--the big man's face was alight, his frame suddenly thrumming with harnessed energy.

"So we can get that warrant without further delay?"

"If Mr Mabberly here will come with me to the magistrate and swear to Mrs Babbacombe's status, I can't see anything that'll stop us. I've already got friends in the force standing by--they'll do the actual arrest but I, for one, definitely want to be there when they take Joliffe into custody."

"I'm prepared to come with you immediately, sir." Mr Mabberly stood.

"From the sounds of it, the sooner this Joliffe person is a guest of His Majesty's government the better."

"I couldn't agree more." Harry stood and offered Mr Mabberly his hand.

"And while you two are tying up Joliffe and his crew, I'll keep Mrs Babbacombe under my eye."