“Our government is a large organization. I doubt even someone as comprehensively involved as the duke has met everyone. And I’m only a minor functionary. Now, tell me, what has happened?”

“Someone is threatening me in an effort to stop us from finding the blueprints.”

“I would never do such a thing, I assure you. All I want is for the blueprints to be found and returned to the Admiralty. Now, do you have any news to report?”

I now knew from my reference books that Sir Jonah Denby worked in Whitehall, lived in London, and belonged to respectable clubs. Not someone likely to steal warship blueprints, but I would also say that of Sir Henry Stanford. I’d also not been able to find a connection between Denby and von Steubfeld or Gattenger. But why did Denby say Blackford had told him about me one day and then as much as admit Blackford didn’t know him on another? “We think we’ve identified the thief and hope to follow him to the person who hired him.”

“You’ve identified the thief? Wonderful,” Sir Jonah said. “Who?”

“We’re not mentioning his name to anyone. You’ll have to trust us to do our jobs.”

“Can you catch him?”

“We will. And we’ll retrieve the plans.” I gave him a hard stare. “Now, what is your role—” I began, but Sir Jonah cut me off.

“Good work, Miss Fenchurch. Thank you.” With a smile, Sir Jonah stepped quickly the length of the shop and out into the street.

When the duke arrived to escort me to Newgate, I told him about my latest visit from Denby.

“We’re meeting with some people from Whitehall tonight. Hopefully, he’ll be there. If not, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t worry.” Blackford’s lack of concern relieved me. I forgot Sir Jonah as I climbed into the carriage.

The prison was as bleak as I remembered it, but the heat wave had lasted long enough to have penetrated the corridors. Putrid smells rose up from the stones. Sweat rolled down my shift. The hair at the duke’s neckline began to curl, the only sign that he perspired.

Gattenger had shrunk, his hair limp on his head, his skin graying as if he’d already died. I sat across the table from him again and stared at him. He didn’t look in my direction.

“Why did you call the doctor so many times for cousin Clara?” I began.

“Guard, take me back to my cell,” Gattenger said.

“No,” Blackford said in that ducal tone that froze people in place.

“Was she ill, Kenny?”

“No. I don’t think so. The doctor didn’t think so. I don’t know.”

“Did you beat her?”

He looked at me then, a ferocious gleam lighting his eyes. “No. I’d never hurt Clara. I’d rather chop off my arm. I loved her.”

“Why was she bruised? Where did the blood come from?”

“I asked her when we were first dating if her father beat her. She wouldn’t speak to me for a week. It turned out she bruised easily. She had since childhood. And the blood—oh, God.” He burst into tears and buried his face in his arms on the table.

“The blood, Gattenger,” Blackford said.

When I realized, I couldn’t believe it had taken me so long. “She was with child, wasn’t she, Kenny? The blood came from a miscarriage. That’s what the doctor will tell us, won’t he?”

He straightened, wiping at his eyes with his fingers. “Two. In the year we’d been married, Clara had suffered two miscarriages. She wanted a baby so badly. She felt she’d failed me, while I couldn’t care less. I loved Clara. She was all I needed.”

“And when the maid heard her tell you she couldn’t stand a third time, she was sending you from her room so she couldn’t get with child again.” The poor woman was probably distraught.

“Yes.”

“And those stories about the two of you fighting in public, that was her reaction to something that reminded her about the miscarriages.”

“Only the first one. We’d not had a chance to go out in the evening after the second one before she—” He pinched the bridge of his nose and then took a breath. “She lost a lot of blood and was very weak.”

“Being the daughter of a lord, she’d consider giving you an heir of more importance than you put on it,” Blackford said, more to himself than to Gattenger.

Lady Bennett might see me as a rival in a contest to become the duke’s paramour, but he’d soon need to marry and produce an heir to the dukedom. And neither of us would be considered for the position of duchess.

“Poor Clara. Fearing she’d failed me, when in the end, I failed her.” Gattenger shook his head.

I broke in then. “I have another question. Why did you take the drawings of the new warship out of the Admiralty that night?”

“Why did I? It was such a mistake. It cost Clara her life.”

Before Gattenger could go off on another round of self-pity, I said, “You said there was a question about a calculation. Why take the drawings out that night? Why not work on them in the Admiralty or take them out another night?”

“Sir Henry said he was certain I’d made a mistake, and if I didn’t correct it immediately, he was going to the Admiralty Board the next morning. He’d tell them my design was flawed and not worth bidding on. I couldn’t let him. Not after I’d failed to give Clara the baby she wanted. I couldn’t ruin her economic standing, her home, her position in society.”

“Had the Admiralty paid you for the design?”

“In part.”

“And you needed money. You were desperate for money.”

He hung his head. “Yes.”

I pushed harder. “Desperate enough to take German money in exchange for a copy of the plans.”

He looked into my eyes then and slowly shook his head. “No. I thought I would, but then I backed out. When I didn’t have to worry about the baby anymore.”

“So they offered you money, and you accepted. But then you changed your mind. Did you tell them no?”

His posture straightened. “Of course I did. And I never agreed. Not really. I said I’d think about it.”

“What did they do when you turned them down?”

He sank down again. “They threatened me. They said they’d destroy me.”

I glanced at the duke. “Who did?”

“I don’t know who he was. A large man with a German accent. Lethal looking. He stayed in the shadows.”

My excitement must have shown in my voice. “When did this happen?”

“Two nights before—that night. While I was walking home.”

“And then Sir Henry Stanford forced you into taking the drawings out two days later?” Blackford shook his head. “Sir Henry’s not smart enough to figure out any flaws on his own.”

I ignored the duke and leaned my face close to the prisoner’s. “You were afraid Sir Henry was right, weren’t you?”

Gattenger nodded.

“Why? Did you have doubts about your design?”

I had Blackford’s attention now. He leaned forward over the table, no doubt so he could hear every whisper Gattenger might make.

Gattenger murmured his words with his eyes shut. “Yes. The people at the Admiralty took my drawings before I’d conducted tests on scale models. Before the ink was dry on the blueprints. Before I’d checked and rechecked all my calculations over and over. I was so excited about my new design I told them about it immediately, and they paid me and took possession of all my drawings then and there.

“The balance of the big guns may be off, or I may have overloaded the ship with heavy weapons. I’m just not sure.” He slammed his fist on the table.

“You’re afraid the ship will sink.” Blackford leaped to his feet and made a quick circle of the room.

Gattenger looked up at him and said, “I’m not sure. I took a set of the drawings home to get all the figures I’d need to run the miniaturized tests.”

This didn’t make sense to me. “Why did they take the drawings before you were ready to hand them over?”

“The Admiralty got wind of a German plan to beat us to the punch with a new warship. They took the designs, copied the blueprints, and began bidding for building the first ship. They want to conduct sea trials as soon as possible. The Admiralty wants Britain to be first.”