by Amanda Quick
“That is not necessary.”
Tobias ignored that comment. He was already on his feet. She knew from the look in his eyes that he was not going to allow her to banish him to the breakfast room while she greeted Howard.
“Correct me if I am mistaken,” she said as she led the way out the door, “but I have the impression that you are not overfond of Dr. Hudson.”
“The man is a mesmerist. I do not trust the members of his profession.”
“I am a mesmerist, sir.”
“A former mesmerist,” he said as he followed her down the hall. “You have embarked upon a new career, if you will recall.”
“Yes, indeed, and I also seem to recall that you are not particularly approving of my new profession either.”
“That is another matter entirely.”
She arrived at the entrance of the parlor at that moment and was thus saved from having to respond to his remark.
Howard paced in front of the window, his shoulders tight and hunched with tension. His clothes were rumpled. He had not bothered with a stylish knot in his neckcloth. His boots were unpolished.
Although he had his face averted so that she could not see his expression, she knew at once that something terrible had occurred.
“Howard?” She went forward quickly, conscious of Tobias behind her. “What is it? What has happened?”
Howard spun around and fixed her with his fathomless gaze. For an instant it seemed to her that she had been transported to an odd metaphysical plane. The atmosphere around her was suddenly too still. The rattle of a carriage in the street was abruptly muted, as though the sound came from a vast distance.
With a small, determined effort, she mentally shook off the strange sensation. Normal noises returned and the disturbing feeling passed. Howard’s gaze appeared normal once more.
She glanced at Tobias and saw that he was studying Howard closely, but otherwise he appeared completely unaware of the brief, very curious alteration in the atmosphere. Perhaps it had all been a product of her imagination, she thought.
“Celeste is dead,” Howard said heavily. “Murdered the night before last by a footpad. Or so they tell me.” He put his fingers to his temples. “I still cannot bring myself to believe it. If I had not seen her body myself yesterday morning when the authorities came to inform me, I vow I would . . .”
“Dear God.” Lavinia went forward swiftly. “You must sit, Howard. I’ll have Mrs. Chilton bring in some tea.”
“No.” He sank down onto the edge of the sofa, looking bemused. “Please, do not go to the trouble. I could not possibly drink it.”
Lavinia sat beside him. “I have some sherry. It is excellent for overcoming the effects of shock.”
“No, thank you,” he whispered. “You must help me, Lavinia. I am really quite desperate, you see.”
Tobias went to stand in front of the window and turned so that the morning sun was at his back. Lavinia was familiar with this habit of his. She knew he chose the position because it put his own face in shadow and served to give him a better view of Howard.
“Tell us what happened,” Tobias said without inflection. “Start at the beginning.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Howard massaged his temples with his fingertips, as if attempting to bring order to his troubled thoughts. Dread and despair darkened his gaze. “It is all still somewhat muddled, you see. One shock after another. I fear that I am still reeling from the blows. First the news of her death and now this other information.”
Lavinia touched his sleeve. “Calm yourself, Howard. Do as Tobias suggested. Start at the very beginning of the thing.”
“The beginning.” Howard slowly lowered his hand and stared blankly at the carpet. “That would be a fortnight ago when I first realized that Celeste was having an affair.”
“Oh, Howard,” Lavinia said softly.
She glanced at Tobias. He was watching Howard with that detached studiousness that she had learned meant that he was assessing the situation and weighing the information with icy calculation. His ability to step into that remote realm both intrigued and irritated her. When he was in this mood he was oblivious to emotion and the dictates of the sensibilities that would seem natural to the situation.
“She is—was—so young and so beautiful,” Howard said after a moment. “I could scarcely believe my good fortune when she consented to marry me in Bath. I think that a part of me always knew that there was a grave risk that someday I would lose her. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. But I was in love. What choice did I have?”
“You’re certain that she was involved in an affair?” Tobias asked neutrally.
Howard nodded bleakly. “I cannot be certain how long it had been going on, but once I tumbled to the truth, there was no way I could deny it. Believe me, I made every effort.”
“Did you confront her?” Tobias asked.
Lavinia winced at the relentless manner in which Tobias was pressing Howard. She tried to signal him silently to soften his attitude, but he apparently did not notice.
Howard shook his head. “I could not bear to do so. I told myself that she was young, that the liaison was nothing more than a brief adventure. I hoped that she would eventually grow bored with the other man.”
Tobias watched him. “Do you know the identity of her lover?”
“No.”
“You must have been curious, to say the least,” Tobias said.
The very flatness of his words made Lavinia tense. His tone might have been perfectly even and uninflected, but the bone-deep chill in his eyes made her catch her breath. She suddenly understood. If Tobias ever found himself in Howard’s position, he would move heaven and earth to learn the identity of the lover. She did not want to think about what he would do after that.
“I suspect that she went to meet him the night before last,” Howard whispered. “I had learned her small habits and ways well. I sensed her excitement and anticipation on those occasions when she planned to slip away to be with him. We were to attend a demonstration of animal magnetism performed by a gentleman named Cosgrove, who claims to be able to effect amazing cures with his mesmeric skills. But at the last moment she feigned an indisposition and declared that she would stay home. She insisted that I go. She was well aware that I had very much looked forward to witnessing Cosgrove at work.”
“So you did attend the demonstration?” Lavinia asked. She kept her voice soothing and gentle in an attempt to compensate for Tobias’s interrogation.
“Yes. The man proved to be a complete charlatan and I was vastly disappointed. When I returned home, I discovered that Celeste was gone. I knew then that she was with him, whoever he is. I lay awake all night waiting for her to return. She never came home. The next morning the authorities informed me that her body had been found inside a warehouse near the river. I have spent the past day and a half in a haze, dealing with the funeral arrangements.”
“Was she stabbed?” Tobias asked almost casually. “Or shot?”
“Strangled, they said.” Howard gazed bleakly at the wall. “I’m told the cravat the bastard used was still around her throat when she was found.”
“My God.” Unconsciously, Lavinia raised a hand to her own throat and swallowed.
“Any witnesses?” Tobias asked.
“None that I know of,” Howard whispered. “No one has come forward and I have no hope that any will. As I said, the authorities believe that she was the victim of a footpad.”
“Very few footpads use cravats as murder weapons,” Tobias said evenly. “Generally speaking, they don’t even wear them. Footpads are not much interested in fashion, in my experience.”
“I was told they suspect that the cravat was stolen earlier in the evening from some gentleman the killer robbed,” Howard explained.
“A bit of a stretch,” Tobias muttered.
He sounded exceedingly callous, Lavinia thought. “That is quite enough, sir.”
There was a short pause.
Howard an
d Tobias met each other’s eyes for that moment. Lavinia recognized the look as one of those silent, extremely irritating, man-to-man exchanges that completely excluded women.
“Who found the body?” Tobias asked.
Howard shook his head. “Does it matter?”
“It might,” Tobias said.
Howard rubbed his temples again, concentrating. “I believe the man who came to inform me of Celeste’s death mentioned that one of the street lads who sleep in the abandoned buildings near the river led the authorities to her. But there is more to this. Something else has happened that I must tell you about, Lavinia. Something very odd.”
She touched his shoulder. “What is it?”
“I received a caller late last night.” Howard gave her a stark look through a fan of spread fingers. “Indeed, it was nearly dawn when he arrived. I had sent the housekeeper away because I could not bear to have anyone else around while I came to terms with my grief. The stranger pounded until I awoke and went downstairs to open the door.”
“Who was he?” Lavinia asked.
“A most unpleasant little man who wouldn’t step into the light, so I never got a good look at him.” Howard slowly lowered his hands to his thighs. “He called himself Mr. Nightingale. Said he was in the business of arranging certain types of transactions.”
“What sort of transactions?” Tobias asked.
“He told me that he acts as a go-between for those who wish to buy and sell antiquities in what he called an extremely discreet manner. Apparently he guarantees anonymity for both buyer and seller.”
“In other words the transactions are not always of a legal nature,” Tobias said.
“I got that impression, yes.” Howard sighed heavily. “This man, Mr. Nightingale, told me that he had heard rumors to the effect that a very valuable antiquity had recently been stolen and that Celeste had been involved in the theft.”
Lavinia was dumbfounded. “Celeste stole a relic?”
“I do not believe that for a moment.” Howard waved the possibility aside with an impatient movement of one long-fingered hand. “My Celeste was no thief. Nevertheless, Nightingale claimed that word had gone out in the underworld to the effect that she was murdered for the damned thing.”
“What was the nature of this antiquity?” Tobias asked, showing the first signs of genuine interest in the proceedings.
Howard’s brows bunched together in a line above his patrician nose. “Nightingale described it as an ancient gold bracelet of Roman design. It was originally discovered here in England, a remnant of the days when this country was a province of the Roman Empire. It is set with a strange blue cameo carved with the image of Medusa.”
“What did Mr. Nightingale want from you?” Lavinia asked.
“Apparently the bloody thing is most unusual and is considered quite valuable to a certain sort of collector.”
“And Nightingale makes his living off unusual collectors who favor odd antiquities?” Tobias concluded.
“So he claimed.” Howard did not look at him. He focused his attention entirely on Lavinia. “Nightingale assumes that I know something concerning the whereabouts of the missing cameo. He made it clear that he can arrange to sell it for a fortune. He offered to pay me a fee if I will turn it over to him.”
“What did you tell him?” Tobias asked.
“What could I say?” Howard spread his hands. “I explained that I knew nothing about the Medusa. I don’t think that he believed me, but he warned me that I am in grave danger, regardless of whether or not I told him the truth.”
“Why are you in danger?” Lavinia asked.
“Nightingale said now that word has gone out that the cameo is floating around somewhere in the underworld, any number of collectors will be searching for it. Some, he says, are extremely dangerous men who will stop at nothing to obtain what they desire. He . . . he likened them to sharks in the water circling a sinking ship. He said that I was in the position of the sole survivor clinging to the wreckage.”
“He tried to frighten you,” Lavinia said.
“And succeeded rather well, I must tell you.” Howard seemed to fall into himself. “Nightingale claimed that the only safe course of action was to deliver the relic to him immediately. He promised to make it worth my while. But I cannot possibly do that because I do not have it.”
There was a short silence while they all contemplated that news.
Tobias shifted position a little, propping one shoulder against the windowsill and folding his arms. “What else do you know about this antiq-uity?”
Howard did not look at him. He continued to focus his gaze on Lavinia. She did her best to appear encouraging and sympathetic.
“I’ve never seen the damned thing,” Howard said. “I can only tell you what Nightingale told me. He referred to it as the Blue Medusa. The name is no doubt due to the peculiar color of the stone.”
“Medusa,” Tobias repeated thoughtfully. “A once beautiful woman with glorious hair who managed to offend Athena and got herself turned into a hideous monster for her efforts. She became one of the three Gorgons.”
“The one whose gaze turned men to stone,” Lavinia said.
“No man could slay her because to look at her was to die. She was eventually killed by Perseus, who—rather cleverly, I always thought—backed toward her while she slept, using his shield as a mirror to reflect her image. That way he did not have to look directly at her while he hacked off her head.”
“Not what one would consider a particularly charming image for an item of fashionable jewelry,” Howard muttered.
“Actually, Medusa was a very common theme for ancient jewelers,” Lavinia said. “I saw any number of old rings and pendants set with Medusa-head cameos while I was in Italy. Her image was believed to be able to ward off evil.”
“Turn your enemy or the source of a threat to stone, hmm?” Tobias shrugged. “There is a certain logic to that thinking.”
Howard cleared his throat. “Mr. Nightingale told me that the cameo in this particular bracelet is a unique version of Medusa. It is believed to be the emblem of some ancient, obscure cult that flourished in secret for a time here in England. In addition to the familiar figure of a woman’s head with staring eyes and snakes twisting in her hair, there is a small rod or wand carved into the stone beneath the severed throat.”
“Did Mr. Nightingale tell you anything else about the relic?” Lavinia asked.
Howard furrowed his brow. “I believe he said that the bracelet itself is fashioned of gold of a very pure and excellent quality that has been pierced in any number of places to create a distinctive pattern of intertwined snakes.”
“Pierced work,” Lavinia said softly.
Tobias glanced at her. “You have seen such antiquities?”
“Yes. I saw a pair of gold bracelets in Italy that had been worked in such a fashion. Several gemstones of various colors were set into them. They had been discovered in a tomb, together with some coins from the fourth century. Quite incredibly beautiful, I must say. The piercing created a pattern of twisting leaves that was so fine and delicate it looked like so much gold lace.”
Howard continued to watch her as though she was his only source of hope. “I can tell you nothing more about the Blue Medusa. Nightingale claims Celeste was killed because of it. But I do not believe that. At least, not entirely.”
“What do you think happened?” Tobias asked.
“I have spent hours pondering the circumstances of her death,” Howard admitted sadly. “I have come to the reluctant conclusion that, although my Celeste was, by nature, no thief, she was young and impulsive. She may have been led astray by her lover.”
Lavinia stilled. “Are you saying that you think her lover persuaded her to steal the bracelet for him and then murdered her?”
“It is the only explanation that makes any sense to me.” Howard clenched one hand into a fist and rested it on his thigh. “I believe that the bastard arranged to meet Celeste the night before
last. He no doubt instructed her to bring the bracelet to the rendezvous. My sweet, innocent Celeste went to meet him in the middle of the night, and the monster strangled her with his cravat and stole the bracelet.”
Lavinia glanced at Tobias to see how he was reacting to the theory. He appeared lost in thought. Or perhaps that was boredom she saw on his hard face. With him, one could not always be certain of the distinction, she reflected.
She turned back to Howard. “I am so terribly sorry for your loss.”
“Lavinia, you must help me.” Howard reached out abruptly and took her hands in his. “I do not know where else to turn. You say that you are in the business of making private inquiries. I wish to employ you to find the man who killed my Celeste.”
“Howard—”
“Please, my dear friend. Nightingale warned me that I myself am in danger, but I care nothing for my own safety in this matter. I seek justice for my dear wife. You cannot deny me. I beg you to help me find her murderer.”
“Yes, of course, we will help you, my friend,” Lavinia said.
Tobias’s expression sharpened without warning. He dropped his arms and straightened away from the windowsill. “Lavinia, we must discuss this matter before we accept the commission.”
“Rubbish,” she said. “I have already decided to accept it. You may join me as my partner in the affair or you may decline. That is your choice, naturally.”
“Bloody hell,” Tobias said.
“Thank you, my dear.” Howard raised Lavinia’s hands and kissed them. “Words cannot express my gratitude.”
Tobias watched him in the manner of a hawk watching a mouse. “Speaking of expressing your gratitude, Hudson, there is the small matter of our fee.”
“Money is no obstacle,” Howard assured him.
“Always nice to hear that,” Tobias said.
Nine
“I DON’T LIKE THIS CASE, LAVINIA.”
“Yes, I can see that you do not approve, sir. Indeed, you have already made your feelings on the subject abundantly clear. You were nothing short of rude to Howard.”
She swept into the small study, went directly behind her desk, and sat down. For some odd reason that she had yet to fathom, it was always easier to discuss unpleasant topics with Tobias when she put the large block of mahogany between them.
