Letter from a Dead Man Page 27

‘I’m afraid she wasn’t best pleased, my lady, but Miss Lucie told cook not to worry.’

  I nodded, grateful I could rely on Lucie to show some common sense. ‘I’ll have a word with cook. Anything else I should know, Jeffel?’

  ‘I don’t think so, my lady.’ He asked if I’d had a pleasant trip, and I told him what we had seen in Portsmouth, as he liked to hear about the places I visited

  Having mollified cook, I went to find Lucie. She was sitting by the drawing room fire reading the newspaper, but put it down on seeing me, and told me happily, ‘Giles says all the legal matters are settled now.’ When she insisted on being shown my new hat, we went up to my bedchamber, where I took it from the box, put it on and turned to face her. Instantly she broke into a wide smile. ‘It’s beautiful. I like the feather, and it will go perfectly with your gown.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’ Removing the hat, I sank wearily into a chair. The trip to Portsmouth, all that had happened there, worrying whether Giles was dead or alive, and the sheer lack of sleep, had finally taken it out of me.

  ‘Is something wrong, Drusilla?’ Lucie asked in concern. ‘You don’t look at all well.’

  Blinking in surprise, I assured her, ‘No, I’m fine. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Tired? You?’ She exclaimed in astonishment. ‘I’ve never heard you say that before. I do hope you’re not sickening for something.’ Lucie naturally wanted everything to be perfect for her wedding, and I reassured her, saying that having been woken early every morning by the noises in the street, I just needed a good night’s sleep. And I asked how my godmother was.

  ‘Tolerably well, I think. I called on her every day, and Vincent drove her over to dine with us on Wednesday. On Thursday, Mama and I joined them for a drive in the sunshine. You know, Drusilla,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘I believe Vincent enjoys the company of women.’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ I agreed with a chuckle. ‘It seems to me you’ve had a riotous time while we’ve been away.’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t call it riotous exactly, but it has been pleasant.’

  She told me her wedding dress would be delivered in a few days. ‘It’s absolutely perfect,’ she sighed happily, her face flushed with excitement now that the day was drawing near. When she finally left me to dress for dinner I found her happy chatter had relaxed me a good deal.

  Dinner was a cheerful affair; my aunt expressing satisfaction with my uncle’s new boots, and that I’d bought a suitable hat. She wanted to see it for herself, of course, and later, when I put it on, she instantly declared, ‘Now that’s what I call a hat, Drusilla. You should give the other one away.’

  When we all retired to the drawing room, my uncle and I presented Aunt Thirza and Lucie with the small gifts bought in Portsmouth. I stayed talking for an hour, then left them to themselves, saying I had some things to see to, and went into the workroom to write down everything the Gosport man had told us. I had just put the sheet back on the wall, when Jeffel came in to say Mr Arnold wished to see me. Laying down my pen, I told Jeffel to show him into the library, and pulled the shutters over the charts, not wanting anyone to see what I had just written.

  On entering the library I found Jeffel lighting some extra candles, and talking to Mr Arnold about the warmth of the evening. Mr Arnold declined my offer of refreshment, and when Jeffel had left the room, explained, ‘I have just come from dining with Captain Wilson, and if I drink one more glass of wine, my wife will have just cause to accuse me of becoming a tippler.’

  ‘That I do not believe,’ I said, laughing. ‘I trust Mrs Arnold is well?’

  ‘Very well, thank you, ma’am.’ There was no mistaking the pride in his voice, and that he considered himself fortunate in his choice of wife. ‘But I mustn’t trespass on your time. Indeed you must be wondering why I have called at such a hour.’ I assured him, quite truthfully, that I was pleased to see him at any time. ‘It concerns the murders of Thomas Saxborough and his son, and------’

  ‘You have some new evidence?’ I asked eagerly.

  ‘Would that I had, ma’am. But the subject came up over dinner and Mr Orde told us the official position.’ Thomas Orde, Governor of the Isle of Wight, was a particular friend of the Arnolds. ‘It will soon be common knowledge, so I am not breaking a confidence, but I’m afraid it is not what you will wish to hear. Officially it is thought the smugglers who carried out the murders did so in order to steal not only the Saxborough ring, but the yacht as well. Either to sell, or to use for smuggling purposes. As you know, it had quite a turn of speed. Personally I find it hard to believe smugglers would go to such lengths, but I may well be wrong. It would certainly explain why no wreckage has been found.’

  ‘Indeed,’ I agreed in a neutral tone, not wanting to mention what I had learned in Gosport until I’d had more time to consider it all.

  ‘I’m afraid the general opinion is that Thomas and his son were simply thrown overboard,’ he continued unhappily. ‘It is not a pleasant thought.’

  From what the Gosport man had said, I was quite certain they were drowned first, and left where they would easily be found. Imagining how this might have been achieved was one of the things that had kept me awake for the last two nights.

  ‘I was told,’ Mr Arnold went on, ‘that with these smugglers being French, nothing more can be done.’

  I sighed. ‘I had hoped the search for evidence would not be given up so soon.’ A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows and the candles flickered in the ensuing draught. ‘Do you know if Giles Saxborough has been informed?’

  ‘I understand the situation was explained to him this morning.’ After a slight hesitation he said, ‘There is one other thing, ma’am. It concerns Smith - his tongue ran away with him over the business of hiding contraband on his farm. He gave us the names of everyone involved. But he is still protesting he had nothing to do with that piece of cliff falling on you at Hokewell Bay. Vehement, he is.’

  I shrugged. ‘The man was always a liar.’

  ‘Very true. But in this instance he may be speaking the truth. He said he was at Dittistone market that morning with his son, Daniel. They bought some hens and came back about noon with the carrier who transported them. The carrier confirmed it, and the farmer who sold him the livestock remembered it because it happened to be his birthday.’

  CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

  ‘I see,’ I said, frowning. ‘Did you speak to Daniel?’

  ‘Yes. In view of my involvement in the smuggling charge, I went along with the constable. Daniel said his father was with him all morning, and they didn’t hear of your accident until they got back.’

  ‘I see,’ I said thoughtfully, certain Daniel would not cover up for his father. ‘Then it cannot have been Smith.’

  ‘No, ma’am. That is our opinion too.’

  When Mr Arnold took his leave, I went over what had happened on that terrifying day. I had tethered Orlando to Smith’s gate and been attacked within half an hour. Much too quickly for it to be his Guernsey friends. A week earlier I’d lost my temper with Smith, warning him no smuggler was going to tell me what I could, or couldn’t do, on my own land. Sensible reasons for believing it was Smith.

  I went back into the workroom to look at my charts, for if Smith hadn’t attacked me, then it must be the man behind the Saxborough murders. The night before that attack, someone had broken into my workroom and read my charts. But as they showed only the bare facts, which were known to everyone closely involved, plus some background details, I hadn’t connected the break-in with the attack. In fact, I was convinced the intruder, having seen how very little I knew, would realise I was not a danger to him. Therefore, I’d seen no reason for him to attack me.

  Besides which, his ‘accidents’ had been planned with meticulous care, and the attack had not, for I’d gone down to Hokewell Bay on impulse. Perhaps he’d been watching the house, seen me leave alone, followed me, and grasped the opportunity. But why had he taken such a chance? Why was
he so desperate to be rid of me?

  Was there something on my wall charts that gave away his identity? Eagerly I went through those facts again, searching for what he might have seen. And found nothing. Eventually I concluded he was simply worried that I was trying to solve the murders. Yet, every instinct within me said it wasn’t so. Unfortunately, this useful insight failed to indicate what I should look for on my charts.

  In the morning, still none the wiser, I rode over to Ledstone, where Parker informed me that only Giles and Marguerite were in the house. ‘Mr Reevers has gone to Norton House, and Mr Vincent and Mr Piers left half an hour ago to visit friends near Brading.’

  Brading being over on the east of the Island, I asked, ‘How long will they be away?’

  ‘Only until tomorrow, my lady.’ I nodded and asked to see Giles, if it was convenient.

  A few minutes later Parker ushered me into Giles’s study, having first explained, in a confidential manner, that Mr Saxborough was busy catching up on estate matters this morning, but that in his opinion, too much pouring over figures never did anyone any good. Giles, greeting me with affection and pleasure, seemed to be bursting with good health. Just as if he really had spent all his time away in London.

  I settled myself in the chair on the other side of his desk, saying how pleased I was to see him back at Ledstone. He scrutinised what I knew to be my somewhat haggard appearance and asked anxiously, ‘Drusilla, are you quite well?’

  ‘Of course. When am I ever anything else? I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.’ He didn’t comment, and I stripped off my riding gloves, putting them on the arm of the chair. ‘I hope you’re not too busy. I have a great deal to say to you.’

  He laughed out loud, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. ‘Straight to the point as usual, Drusilla.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘I’ve promised to drive Mama to Yarmouth in an hour. Will that be long enough do you think?’ he inquired tongue-in-cheek. Not being in a mood for joking I said it should suffice, and he leaned back in his chair waiting for me to speak.

  First I thanked him for getting my uncle out of prison, explaining I’d prised the information out of Leatherbarrow.

  ‘Yes, I know about that.’

  ‘I trust you’re not angry with him, Giles. I----’

  ‘Of course I’m not. He wasn’t in a position to do anything else.’

  ‘How is he, by the way?’

  ‘Almost recovered, and itching to get back to his duties, he tells me.’ Affection for his groom clear in his voice.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ I took a deep breath and begged him to tell me how he got my uncle out of prison.

  He looked at me from under his brows. ‘It wasn’t difficult.’

  ‘If it was that easy,’ I retorted caustically, ‘prisoners would be escaping all the time.’

  Grinning, he shook his head at me. ‘I suppose you won’t be happy until I have told you the whole.’ He brushed a wayward hair from his forehead. ‘I meant to hold up the coach on the road to Paris, but changed my mind. In fact, we stopped it in a wood on its way to the prison, tied the guards to trees, having first borrowed their uniforms.’

  I thought of what that would have involved. Pistols and probably masks. Just like a common highwayman, only rather more dangerous. ‘Who was with you?’

  ‘My French friend, the one who discovered where your uncle was.’ He grimaced. ‘But I didn’t mention the change of plan until the last minute. He’s a rogue, Drusilla. I’d paid him well, but I made one mistake. I told him this was the last time I would need his services.’

  My heart pounded in alarm. ‘You speak as if you’ve employed him many times before.’ ‘Oh, he’s had his uses,’ he replied offhandedly. ‘But after that his manner changed. He made such strenuous efforts to prevent me changing my plan, I guessed that now I was no longer a source of income to him, he meant to add to his fortunes by informing the French authorities of my intentions. So I warned him, that should I be arrested, I would still manage to shoot him first.’

  Horrified, I whispered, ‘How could you take such a risk?’

  Giles laughed in his carefree way. ‘There was no risk after that. He understood, believe me. When I doubled the sum I’d promised him, he was only too happy to do as I wished. He did the talking at the prison, although as he was well aware, my French is excellent, but no-one suspected we weren’t the real guards. Your uncle was handed over without a quibble, and we headed for the coast, where French smugglers brought him to the Island. It was as simple as that.’

  I raised an eyebrow at him. ‘So you never did have any friends in Normandy. It was this----’

  ‘The Frenchman, yes. Smugglers usually know what’s going on. I’d hoped your uncle was in hiding and thus easily got out of France. When I learned he was in prison, and was soon to be taken to Paris, I thought only of what Lucie would suffer if I did nothing. Her father’s life would end in a swift trial, a ride through the streets of Paris in a tumbril being jeered at by howling mobs, before climbing the steps to the guillotine. When I saw a way to save him, how could I not do so? I want no sadness on my wedding day, Drusilla.’

  If he’d failed, both he and my uncle would been guillotined, causing Lucie even greater suffering. But he had not failed, so I said nothing.

  He thanked me for what I had done for his groom, and I remarked casually, ‘Leatherbarrow said he was to meet you somewhere on the Normandy coast. After he was attacked, Mr Reevers went off in your yacht and--------’

  ‘Yes, Radleigh told me all about that in London.’

  ‘He must have got there before you did.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Didn’t he think that odd?’

  A smile flickered on his lips. ‘He did seem a trifle put out. But Radleigh rarely stays angry for-----’

  I cut in, ‘Giles, the attack on your groom was meant to----’

  ‘Stop him picking me up. Yes, I realise that. But—’

  ‘Who else knew where your groom was going?’

  He gazed at me for a moment, then stared down at his hands. ‘It so happens I couldn’t wait for Leatherbarrow anyway.’

  I gave a little gasp. ‘What do you mean? Why couldn’t you wait?’

  ‘Well, as you know, before the war, I used my own yacht to go to France, and paid my French friend to meet me in Normandy with a good horse.’ So that’s why he’d employed the Frenchman before. I was inordinately relieved.

  ‘When I was ready to come home, I arranged to meet the Frenchman at daybreak on the beach where I was being picked up. He was to collect my horse, and I’d pay what I owed him. But I’d still underestimated the man’s greed,’ he confessed, with a grimace. ‘Quite by chance, I was about an hour early. Eager to get back to Lucie you see,’ he owned. ‘There was very little wind that morning, and I could hear every sound. The noises I heard came from horses. A snort or two, the jingle of harnesses as they shook their heads. Too much for the single horse I’d expected, so I waited and watched for a while. When I saw soldiers moving across the beach, I knew the Frenchman had betrayed me.’

  I stared at him in horror. ‘How did you get away?’

  He gave a rather wry smile. ‘I was lucky. It was still dark, so I rode back along the coast to a fishing village and borrowed a boat.’

  ‘You stole a boat?’

  ‘It was either that or the guillotine. Don’t look at me like that, Drusilla. The boat has been returned. And I am safely home.’

  ‘Yes, thank heavens.’ I sat looking down at my fingernails, thinking of the terrible danger he had been in, yet no remembered strain showed in his face. It was almost as if he had enjoyed it. And I asked, ‘Why did you stay in France after you knew my uncle was safe?’

  He began tidying the papers on his desk. ‘Oh, you know me, Drusilla. Being so close to Paris, I wanted to see what was happening there. Not everyone has the opportunity to witness a revolution, and I saw no reason -----.’

  ‘No reason?’ I spluttered. ‘When you had j
ust removed my uncle from prison?’

  He grinned. ‘You forget, I was disguised as a French soldier.’ And he told me something of what he’d seen. ‘Those who criticize the revolution are considered enemies of liberty and must be eliminated,’ he said, irony in his voice. ‘I could virtually smell the fear on the streets.’ His lip curled in distaste. ‘And there were these dreadful old hags, who sat knitting at the foot of the guillotine.’

  I felt my jaw drop. ‘Good God, did you actually watch one of these executions?’

  He hesitated. ‘I didn’t mean to, believe me. But I got caught up in the crowd and it wasn’t wise to be seen leaving.’ He closed his eyes momentarily. ‘Frankly Drusilla, I was glad to get out of Paris. There is no respect for life in France any more. I think that’s why those French smugglers murdered Thomas and Tom----‘ A butterfly fluttered in through the open window; Giles carefully caught it and put it outside again. ‘Before this revolution, they would never have snuffed out two lives as if they were of no more importance than that butterfly.’

  ‘I don’t believe the revolution had anything to do with it.’

  A startled expression sprang into his eyes. ‘Whatever makes you say that?’

  I told him about my trip to Gosport and he stared at me in growing alarm. ‘You should never have done such a thing. Anything could have happened to you?’

  ‘I had my uncle and Mudd with me.’

  ‘A frail old man and a groom----’

  ‘Giles, stop preaching and listen to me. This man said his job was to sink the yacht so that it would never be found.’

  ‘How much did he want for this information?’ When I told him, he shook his head from side to side in despair. ‘And you believed him?’

  Taking Tom’s penknife from my pocket, I handed it to him. ‘He gave me this.’

  Giles turned it over and gasped. ‘But this is the penknife you gave Tom.’ He looked across at me. ‘Where did he get it from?’

  ‘He said it was in the cabin.’

  Giles put the penknife on his desk and sat gazing at it, a stricken look on his face. ‘Did he tell you who paid these French smugglers?’