“Where do we spring the trap?” Margo asked, brow furrowing slightly as she considered the problem.
“Someplace open enough to give him a shot at Mr. Jackson,” Malcolm mused, “but not so open he could give us the slip too easily. A public place, with plenty of witnesses, but not a crowd so large he can lose himself in it.”
“Train stations are out, then,” Margo frowned. “Victoria Embankment or maybe Chelsea Embankment?”
Malcolm shook his head. “Access to the water taxis is too great. He could jump into a waterman’s boat and be gone before we could lay hands on him. It’ll have to be someplace he wouldn’t expect a trap. A place we could tell him we’ve found a clue to Armstrong’s whereabouts and have him believe it without question.”
“What about the Serpentine? Or Boating Lake in Battersea? We could say he’s been seen there with Ianira and the children.”
“I’ve got a better idea,” Skeeter said suddenly. “We tell Kaederman you’ve discovered the counterfeit banknotes, which is something Kit and I kept secret. So we tell him you’re running short of cash. Kaederman already knows you’re in disguise as a man, Miss Caddrick, and we also know that Noah Armstrong can assume any disguise he feels like, male or female. So the two of you have been hitting the gentlemen’s clubs, gambling, as a way to dump the counterfeits and make up your losses, fast.”
Jenna frowned. “Gambling? But why would we do that? Gambling is a good way to lose money.”
“Not—” Skeeter grinned, abruptly merry as any imp, “—if you cheat.”