Letter from a Dead Man Page 32

  He smiled. ‘I must say, I am glad to hear it, ma’am. You will be much safer in your own home.’

  I did indeed mean to stay in, knowing I must conserve my strength for what lay ahead that evening. Although I hated to admit it, I was still rather shaken by the second attempt on my life. I tried not to think of how close those bullets had come to ending my existence. For I had been lucky twice now, and could not expect to be so again. I shivered at the thought of what might happen tonight. Yet I had to go. There was, quite simply, no other choice.

  For some time after Mr Arnold had departed, I sat by the fire in the library, going over the plans for that evening. Seeing nothing I could improve on, I went to look out the window at the weather. The gale had blown itself out by daybreak, and there was hardly a breath of wind now. Thick cloud covered the Island, and I prayed it would clear, as I needed moonlight later. The opening of the door disturbed my thoughts, and I turned to see Jeffel coming in with a note. As I took it somewhat absently from the salver, he informed me, ‘It’s from Ledstone Place, my lady.’

  In spite of everything, I couldn’t help smiling. The previous evening I had sent a groom to Ledstone with a letter for Marguerite, telling her about the shooting incident, knowing that word of it would reach her, as such things did in small communities. Not wanting her to hear some garbled, exaggerated version of the truth, I explained I had disturbed a man in the orchard, who had foolishly fired two shots, but I was quite all right. She had written back immediately, distressed and worried, as I had known she would be.

  This morning, however, her mind was clearly back on the wedding, and also on Vincent’s imminent departure, for I had already received two notes from her. The first concerned the lock of Piers’s hair which she’d had incorporated into a quizzing glass, as I’d suggested. She’d presented it to Vincent after breakfast, and believed I would wish to know that he had been moved to tears. The second note begged me to seat the parson and his wife as far away from her as possible at the wedding breakfast.

  ‘Is the groom waiting for a reply?’ I asked Jeffel.

  ‘Yes, my lady.’ He went on to say that my uncle had sent a messenger on ahead to warn us that he and our wedding guests expected to arrive within half an hour.

  I nodded. ‘Good. Inform my aunt and cousin please, Jeffel.’ I sat down at my writing desk again, and began to unfold the note. ‘I’ll ring when I’ve answered Mrs Saxborough’s letter.’

  He bowed. ‘Very good, my lady.’

  As he shut the door, I spread open the single sheet, smiling to myself, wondering what she’d thought of this time. What I saw, however, was not my godmother’s large, open scrawl, but Giles’s clear, neat hand.

  ‘My dear Drusilla,

  We were all greatly shocked to hear what happened last night, but thankful that you escaped unscathed. Mama sends her love, and Radleigh meant to call, but has had to go over to Norton House on a pressing matter. Vincent and Piers too begged me to express their deep concern. They are busy with preparations for their departure on the day following the wedding. Drusilla, I am writing as I must speak to you on a matter of the utmost urgency. Come to Ledstone as soon as you possibly can after three. Do not fail me, and do not, under any circumstances, come without Mudd.’

  I shivered, wondering what it meant. Glancing at the library clock, I saw it wanted some twenty minutes to three, and I simply couldn’t leave now when my aunt’s closest London friends, three couples as yet unknown to me, were about to arrive. Good manners alone demanded I should be here to greet them. Thus, I took a sheet of writing paper from the drawer, wrote a brief note explaining the situation, and that I would be over as soon as I could. I read it through, rang for Jeffel, and gave him the note to hand to the groom.

  Then I checked my hair, ensuring it covered the graze on my head, before joining my aunt and cousin in time to greet our guests. My uncle had already explained my proposal for choosing their bedchambers by the turn of a card, and highly amused, they all entered into the spirit of the thing, the losing couple accepting their lot with good humour. Aunt Thirza and Lucie, at my suggestion, showed them to their bedchambers, enabling me to speak to my uncle.

  ‘I have to go to Ledstone,’ I said, explaining Giles wanted to see me on an urgent matter.

  His brows drew together in a frown. ‘Did he say what it was about?’ When I shook my head, his frown deepened. ‘Is this wise, Drusilla?’

  ‘I think it will be all right. Mudd will be with me, and we have our pistols. I’ll be safe enough at Ledstone with so many people about.’

  We were standing in the hall, and the sound of conversation and laughter drifting down the staircase seemed inappropriate somehow. My uncle said, ‘Does your aunt know about this?’

  ‘No, the note came just before you got home.’

  He chewed his lip. ‘I think I’d better come with you.’

  I shook my head. ‘You’re needed here, Uncle. I’ll leave around four, when everyone is changing for dinner. My godmother has already sent two notes about the wedding today, and my aunt will instantly assume this one is from her too. If you let her think that, she’ll go on about my godmother fussing over nothing as usual, but she’ll understand I still had to go, and will explain that to everyone else.’

  He gazed at me for a long moment, a wry smile on his lips. ‘You know Drusilla, I had no idea you could be so underhanded.’ I laughed, but in truth I had been even more devious than he thought, for he did not yet know of the second attempt on my life, and this certainly wasn’t the time to tell him.

  When Mudd and I rode into the stable yard at Ledstone, an hour or so later, Leatherbarrow was waiting for us. ‘Mr Giles has had to go over to Norton House, my lady. He asked me to say he is very sorry, but could you meet him there.’

  I wheeled Orlando round slowly. ‘Well, it’s not very convenient, but I suppose I’d better go, Leatherbarrow. Is something wrong at Norton House?’

  ‘I couldn’t say, my lady. All I know is, Mr Reevers returned a while ago, and Mr Giles went back with him.’

  It was some five miles to Norton House, and by the time we got there the light was beginning to fade. Having stabled the horses next to those belonging to Giles and Mr Reevers, Mudd accompanied me to the front door. After he’d knocked twice without anyone answering, I suggested, ‘Perhaps they’re in the garden.’

  We walked past the side of the house to the extensive rear gardens that ran right down to the beach. A hedge bordered the whole area, except at the bottom right hand corner where the boathouse stood. Thomas had kept his yacht here in the winter, and as we approached it, I saw the doors were open.

  ‘They must be inside,’ I said. The boathouse was of a strong construction, and as with anything that concerned sailing, Thomas had kept it in pristine condition.

  The big double doors faced the sea, and walking round to them, I noticed how calm the sea was now the wind had dropped. I went inside, followed by Mudd, and called out. ‘Giles, are you in here?’

  It was, necessarily, a large boathouse, and there were no windows. A lamp glowed in the far corner, but I couldn’t see anyone. As I peered into the gloom, the door was suddenly slammed shut, and the key turned in the lock.

  ‘Giles?’ I shouted. ‘Is that you?’

  Two planks of wood, stretched across the outside of the doors, reinforced the lock in severe weather, one about a third of the way down, and another two thirds down. Hearing these being slotted into place, I banged my fist furiously on the door.

  ‘Let me out, Giles. At once - do you hear?’

  ‘I’m sorry Drusilla, but you leave me no choice. I did warn you not to interfere. I’ll send a message to Westfleet that you are staying to dinner, so they won’t miss you.’

  Desperately I yelled out again, begging him to listen to me first, but there was no answer. I heard the sound of his riding boots scrunching on the stones as he crossed the small patch of beach between the boathouse and the garden. And then, silence. He had gone.

&n
bsp; ‘How the devil are we to get out, John?’ I fumed. ‘And it’s so dark with the door shut.’ I wasn’t frightened, only annoyed that I couldn’t see.

  ‘I’ll fetch the lamp, my lady.’ Having done so, he held it up, carefully studied the doors and gave a grimace. ‘It’s good, strong oak.’

  I looked at him in dismay. ‘Well, we have to find a way out.’ Taking the lamp from Mudd, I carefully examined every inch of the boathouse. In one corner there were some old sails and ropes, which Mudd lifted up, but there was nothing that could help us to get free. Marks in the ground suggested there had been other things in here recently which Giles, in his usual meticulous manner, must have taken out.

  ‘Well,’ I said, removing my hat for comfort, ‘I have pistols, but nothing else of use, unless you count these hatpins.’ I laid these on a small shelf nearby and Mudd, having put his own pistol beside mine, turned out his pockets, finding a hoof-pick, a few coins and a clasp knife. I looked at him helplessly, for I couldn’t see how such things would be of use, and I burst out more in desperation than belief, ‘There must be a way, John.’ Everything depended on it. I didn’t want to think of what would happen if we failed.

  ‘I could try shooting the lock out, if you stand well back, my lady.’

  I nodded, for Giles would be half way to Ledstone now and well out of earshot. The report was deafening, but thankfully he was successful first time. Then, using the barrel of the pistol, he knocked the lock right out, leaving a hole in the door. Looking through it I saw it was completely dark now. The door barely moved when Mudd pushed it, the two planks of wood remained firmly in place across the doorway, stopping us from getting out.

  There was little chance anyone had heard the pistol shot as Norton House was fairly isolated, indeed there was no sound now apart from the gentle lapping of waves on the stony beach. There were a few bits of metal around the hole where the lock had been, which Mudd prised out with the hoof-pick and clasp knife. It was just possible to make out, through the tiny space where the doors met, the position of the two outside pieces of wood, and I saw a slight chance.

  ‘John, if you could enlarge that hole with your clasp knife, enough to get an arm through it, we might be able to lift the wood out of its slots.’

  He studied the hole, and the thickness of the wood again. ‘I could try, my lady, but it will take some time. Those doors must be two inches thick.’

  ‘Can you think of any other way?’

  ‘No, my lady, I’m afraid I can’t.’

  I told him to take his jacket off to make it easier to work, and as he started whittling away at the wood with the knife, I held the lamp to enable him to see what he was doing. The wood was so solid he could only shave it off in tiny slivers, and the effort needed caused perspiration to form on his forehead, which soon began to run down his face. Every few minutes he stopped to wipe his brow, and after what seemed an absolute age, he’d cut enough wood away to get his fingers into the hole.

  On and on Mudd worked, the perspiration running down his face, for hour after hour, or so it seemed to me. Then, quite suddenly, he slumped against the door, utterly exhausted.

  ‘You hold the lamp John, and let me try.’ I expected him to protest, but he didn’t, and when he gave me the knife, I saw his right hand was red raw and bleeding where the skin had blistered. Appalled, I gasped, ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘It’s not as bad as it looks, my lady.’ And he urged, ‘I think you could get your hand through the hole now.’ I tried, and found I could, just. Eagerly I tried to enlarge the hole but could make no impression at all. Mudd said, ‘The blade is getting a bit blunt, my lady.’

  I refused to think of that, only of what would happen if we didn’t get out, and that made me attack the wood with renewed vigour. I managed to cut away a small sliver, and Mudd grinned, praising my efforts in much the same manner as he had when I’d achieved something as a child. I tried again and made a little progress, but I was much slower than Mudd. After some minutes he said he was ready to take over again.

  I protested, ‘But your hand—’

  ‘Begging your pardon, my lady, but this needs a man’s strength.’

  He was right, of course, and picking up my hat, I ripped out the soft inner lining and insisted on wrapping it round his hand. Thanking me, he began to slog on again. If only I knew what the time was, I thought, and prayed we would not be too late, that Giles would not have left Ledstone yet. And I had to stop myself urging Mudd on, for no-one could have worked harder.

  As he worked, I talked to him about the murders; what I thought about the Gosport man, what I’d heard Giles say to Jacob, and how I believed Cuthbert Saxborough had died. I told him everything I knew; who, how, and why. And that unless we got out of here soon, it would be too late to stop Giles adding to the family deaths.

  CHAPTER THIRTYFIVE

  The next time Mudd tried putting his arm through the hole, he got past his elbow. ‘I think I can reach the lower piece of wood,’ he said. Somehow, he managed to get the wood out of its slot, tipping it over onto the ground. With a broad grin, he stood up and mopped his face. After a moment or two, he tried to remove the higher piece of wood, and although he could reach it and push the plank upwards a trifle, he couldn’t get his muscular upper arm through the hole far enough to lever the plank over the top of the slots holding it in place.

  ‘My arms are thinner and longer than yours,’ I said. ‘Let me try.’ Being tall, I had to stoop a little to push my arm through, and ignoring the jagged edges catching on my sleeve, I found I could do so right up to my shoulder. I easily reached the plank of wood, and pushed it up with all my might, only for it to fall back into the slots again.

  ‘You have to push it up and then out over the top of the slot, my lady,’ Mudd advised. I nodded and tried again. On my third attempt the wood toppled over and hit the ground. The planks of wood had landed close to the doors, but Mudd managed to open the doors far enough to push them out of the way, and at last we were free.

  Thankfully our horses were still in the stables, and we set off for Ledstone. Mudd’s hack couldn’t keep up with Orlando, and I arrived first, riding straight into the stable yard where Leatherbarrow was saddling a horse.

  He looked up as I reined in, waiting only until I had dismounted and looped Orlando’s reins round a rail, before blurting out, ‘Thank goodness you’ve come, my lady. I don’t know where Mr Giles has gone and----’

  ‘Start at the beginning, Leatherbarrow,’ I ordered quietly, sounding much calmer than I felt.

  ‘I beg your pardon, my lady.’ He took a deep breath and explained, ‘Mr Piers went out at about half past seven, and I thought nothing of it, what with him being on his own. Then, an hour or so later, a message came down that Mr Giles and the other two gentlemen were going out too, and their horses were to be saddled at once. When Mr Vincent got here, he was in quite a state-----’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  He hesitated. ‘I hardly like to say----’

  ‘Just tell me, Leatherbarrow.’

  ‘Well, my lady, he was almost in tears.’

  Startled, I asked if he knew why, but was not surprised that he didn’t. ‘What happened then?’

  ‘Mr Giles said I was to stay here. But they’ve been gone well over an hour, my lady-----’

  ‘An hour?’ I echoed in dismay. ‘What time is it, Leatherbarrow?’

  ‘Why, it must be nearly ten,’ he said, giving me a look of surprise. ‘I didn’t want to worry Mrs Saxborough—’

  I cut in quickly. ‘On no account.’

  ‘And I didn’t expect to see you, my lady.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you did. So you decided to look for Mr Giles.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m that worried, my lady. The only trouble is, I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘Well, I think ----------’ and I stopped, for I could hear someone riding rather slowly towards the stables.

  Leatherbarrow listened for a moment. ‘That’s Mr
Vincent’s horse,’ he said, with the confidence of a man who knew the sound of every animal in the stables.

  Vincent rode into the yard, slipped off his horse and handed the reins to Leatherbarrow without a word. I don’t think he saw me in the darkness until I spoke his name. He turned and stared at me, before saying in a colourless voice, ‘Lady Drusilla. You here? I should have known.’ He turned to go indoors, his usual good manners deserting him, for he showed no interest in why I’d come to Ledstone at this late hour.

  Abruptly I demanded, ‘Mr Saxborough, where is Giles?’

  He stopped, looking round at me wearily. ‘He and Mr Reevers are out looking for my son. Piers wasn’t at Dittistone, so I tried Yarmouth, while they went along the coast to Hokewell. They’ll be back soon, I have no doubt. But I am disgraced, ma’am. Utterly disgraced.’ And with shoulders sagging, he walked on into the house.

  By this time Mudd had arrived, and I told him and Leatherbarrow I was going inside to find out what had happened. ‘I want you both to look for Mr Giles. Try Hokewell Bay first.’ I didn’t tell them I intended to follow as soon as I could, or Mudd would have refused to go.

  Hurrying indoors, I found Vincent in the drawing room pouring himself a large glass of brandy. His hands were shaking so much he spilt a good deal of it on the sideboard. Refusing his offer of refreshment, I insisted on being told what had happened. Vincent looked at me, and I saw his eyes were filled with a kind of shocked horror.

  ‘Why not?’ he shrugged. ‘I may as well tell you, the whole Island will know soon enough.’ Swallowing a large measure of the brandy, he slumped into a chair, and sat gazing into the glass, trembling so much he had difficulty in holding it steady. His speech was reasonably coherent, however. ‘Earlier this evening, realising Piers had forgotten to inscribe his name on the card accompanying our wedding gift, I went to his bedchamber, only to find the room empty. Guessing he had gone to Yarmouth and might be back late, I decided to leave a note. I was searching for some paper in a drawer when I found it.’ His voice broke up then, and he put his head in his hands.