“It was until a handful of months ago. Some malcontents from the Irish Guard set upon the major and a few other officers there one evening. A captain under Major Hampstead ended up seriously wounded and died in hospital several days later.” His eyes lit up. “It was Private Newcombe’s father. You’ve met Private Newcombe . . .”
“Indeed.” Colin feigned a brief smile. “Seems a decent fellow.” To my surprise Corporal Bramwood neither agreed nor disagreed. “Can you tell me what precipitated the fight?”
“Oh . . . ,” he muttered as I continued to study him, watching as his face categorically shut down, “. . . I’m sure I don’t know.”
Colin gave an arid chuckle. “Come now, you sit right outside the major’s office. I can see he doesn’t make a move without you. Surely you—”
“No, sir,” came the immediate reply.
“Really . . . ?” Colin was as keyed on the corporal’s face as I was. “I would have bet that a bright young man like yourself would have picked up some notion—”
“You would be wrong, sir.” He shifted in his chair. “Are we about finished? I’ve some duties to attend to—”
Colin’s glare tightened, signaling that the limit of his patience was fast approaching. “You were so willing to be helpful a moment ago and now you are asking to leave? Have I done something to offend?”
“No, sir. I’ve . . .” His eyes flicked about the room a moment, betraying his youth. “I don’t know anything and don’t want to waste your time.”
“Very thoughtful, but I should prefer to decide for myself what is a waste of my time. Now why is it that mention of that night at McPhee’s makes you so uncomfortable?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come now, Corporal, if you could see yourself in a mirror you would be appalled at your lack of cunning.”
I cringed as Corporal Bramwood clenched his jaw and stared back at Colin. “Will that be all?” he asked curtly.
Colin leaned forward, talking pointedly into the younger man’s face. “Had you heard rumors that Captain Bellingham was having an affair?”
The corporal’s face softened slightly as he continued to glare at Colin. “I’d heard a few things, but I didn’t believe it. The captain—”
“Spare me,” Colin spoke over him. “I’ve heard all about how wonderful the captain was, and yet there was someone who hated him enough to torture that good and kind man to death. So tell me, Corporal Bramwood, whom did you hear the captain was having it off with?”
He pursed his lips with distaste. “I don’t see what this—”
“Who?!”
“The Stuart woman. The one he was always visiting.”
“And is that what started the fight at McPhee’s?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever meet Captain Bellingham’s brother-in-law?”
“Who?”
“Sergeant Thomas Mulrooney of the Irish Guard. Do you know him?”
“No, sir.”
“Ever heard of him?”
“No.”
“You have a deplorable way of helping, Corporal.”
“Are we finished then?”
Colin leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “You expound great affection for Captain Bellingham and yet offer only the barest assistance. I find that mystifying.” Corporal Bramwood stood up and moved for the door without a word, but just as he stepped out into the hallway Colin asked, “Will you do me one meager service, Corporal? Will you ask Private O’Fallon to join us?” The corporal nodded wordlessly as he hurried from the room. “Bloody hell . . .” Colin pounded a fist on the table.
“You can’t let them get to you.”
He turned a deep scowl on me. “I’ve got twenty-two hours to solve this blasted case. Do you have a better suggestion?”
“How about a different approach? Your impatience is having little impact on these men.”
He immediately dropped to the floor and knocked out two dozen push-ups before springing back to his feet just as Private O’Fallon, the tall guardsman with the porcelain complexion and wave of strawberry hair, arrived. To my amusement, when he did so Colin turned to him with a most welcoming smile that was nothing less than what I knew he could conjure. He warmly beckoned the private to the chair Corporal Bramwood had so eagerly vacated, but Private O’Fallon stayed on his feet, maintaining the same grim expression he always seemed to wear, leaving me to wonder what he had to be so cheerless about.
“I appreciate your time once again, Private, as I find myself in need of just a bit more clarification with regards to what you have already told us.”
The young man gave a halfhearted shrug, keeping his eyes on the wall behind me as though preparing for a grilling by a military tribunal.
“Right. . . .” Colin shot me a perturbed glance. “Do you recollect our initial meeting at the Bellingham flat?”
“Of course.” The private glanced from Colin to me as though searching for some subterfuge in so innocuous a start.
Colin sucked in a breath as he laced his hands behind his back and began pacing around the room. “You mentioned something that day that I have not been able to forget. It concerns the Lady Stuart. . . .”
Private O’Fallon’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve already told you everything I know about her,” he insisted.
“So you made clear the last time we spoke.” Colin moved back around to me and sat down, trying to adopt a look of nonchalance. “But I find memories to be funny things. Sometimes the tiniest nudge can trigger a world of recollections. So let us see if perhaps we cannot stir your thoughts.”
The private turned a tepid sort of pink and I feared he was on the verge of refusing to cooperate before he finally said, “If you insist.”
“You mentioned you had the impression Captain Bellingham was enjoying some sort of dalliance with Lady Stuart, did you not?”
“It wasn’t my impression,” he answered with a thick note of condescension. “It was the truth. I was privy to his calendar. I set many of his appointments myself. Her name was repeatedly there and yet he refused even the most trivial reference to her. I found that suspect, especially for a man said to be the ideal husband and father.”
“Didn’t you find it odd then that he would keep a public calendar entry for a woman he was having it off with?”
“What?!” His voice increased its edge as he glared at Colin. “He was up to something with her, but I never said they were having it off.”
“You alluded—”
“Alluded?! Is that how you investigate your cases? By allusion and distortion? And do you also manipulate the words of the people you interview to fit your own determination of how a thing should play out?”
Colin’s lips stretched into a rigid line as his brow sank ominously. “Is that what I have done, Private O’Fallon? Have I misinterpreted your intent in telling us of the many visits your captain made to Lady Stuart?”
“My captain?” His face went as hard as the gaze still boring into Colin. “And what might that mean, Mr. Pendragon? What is your implication there?”
“Implication?!” Colin flicked his eyes to me and I could see a simmering outrage blazing within them. “I imply that you worked for him. That you answered to him. Is that offensive as well, Private?” He rose to his feet. “There seems to be a world of secrets about this case and I am beginning to find it all exceedingly tiresome. You provide nothing more than grudging cooperation, making it abundantly clear that you don’t give a fig about seeing these murders solved. I would say that doesn’t reflect very well on you, Private!” he snapped.
“I don’t care in the least if you mean to accuse me of something, Mr. Pendragon. Have at it.”
Colin lurched across the table, hovering just in front of the recalcitrant man. “Why so cavalier, Private . . . ? Perhaps you were consoling the poor captain’s wife?”
“You’re pathetic.”
“Is that a no?”
Private O’Fallon shoved himself out of his chair, s
tabbing his face close to Colin’s. “You can go to hell.”
“Is that a no?”
The private clenched his fists, making it obvious he wanted to send a clout to Colin’s chin, which was precisely what I knew Colin was angling for. “I’m waiting for an answer to a very simple question,” he baited.
Private O’Fallon pulled himself to his full height, tugging at the collar of his blazing red tunic, and stalked from the room with all the dignity accorded one of Her Majesty’s own.
“What a contemptible little shit!” Colin sputtered before the private had fully cleared the doorway.
“Do you really think he might have been involved with Captain Bellingham’s wife?”
“I didn’t until he started being so evasive. He professes allegiance to Captain Bellingham only to impugn the man’s reputation and then deny he is doing so.” Colin coaxed a crown out of his pocket and began fumbling with it. “It’s obvious I’ve ruffled him.” He sent the coin spinning between his fingers. “And where there is soreness there is inevitably a wound.” He gave me a cold grin. “I do believe we are edging closer.”
“Do you think?”
“I certainly hope so. Now do me a turn and see if you can fetch Corporal Blevins. That lad seems naïve enough to extort information from.”
I shook my head as I started for the door. “Well, I promise not to give you any more advice on how to handle this lot. These men don’t seem to have any intention of cooperating no matter how they’re treated.”
He gave me a malevolent grin. “I’m so pleased to hear you say that.”
CHAPTER 27
“Tell me something,” Colin said when I had returned with Captain Bellingham’s youthful adjunct Corporal Blevins. “Did you have an honest affection for your captain or are you just another of the brainwashed sycophants more interested in confounding this case than assisting in its solution?”
I cringed as the slight young man with the coarse bristle of black hair sat down across from us, his confusion easy to read. “Pardon, sir?”
“Allow me . . . ,” I piped up, hoping to get this round of questioning off to a more productive start, only to have Colin brusquely silence me with an upturned hand. It seemed the corporal was in for whatever routing Colin determined appropriate.
“You worked directly for Captain Bellingham, correct?”
“Yes, sir. I was in charge of his schedule and assisted with his correspondence and regimental duties.”
“Very good. And did you consider yourself close to the captain? Did he confide in you?”
Corporal Blevins blinked several times, and while I searched his face for any hint of subterfuge, I could find none. “Only about his schedule. Is that what you mean?”
Colin looked about to reach across the table and backhand the poor naïve young man, so I shot my foot out to kick him under the table. He startled and then, to my relief, leaned back and allowed a warm smile to overtake his face. “It is precisely what I meant. You must forgive me for being so inarticulate.”
“Not at all, sir.” The corporal offered his own sort of smile, but it looked decidedly uneasy on his face.
“How long have you been a member of the Life Guard?”
“Just short of a year, sir.”
“And how long did you work for Captain Bellingham?”
“The last five months. I was assigned to him right after training. I thought . . .” But he let his voice trail off, and for once Colin did not press him to continue.
“Did you like working for the captain? Did you find him to be fair?”
“I did, sir. Very much.”
“And did you have occasion to meet his wife and son?”
“Never his son, sir, no. But I did meet Mrs. Bellingham twice. Once when she came to visit him and the second time when he asked me to deliver a small package to their flat.”
“Came here, did she? Checking up on her husband?!” Colin gave a cavalier laugh, but I knew he meant to have an answer.
The young man remained stoic. “I believe she had been shopping in the area. The captain was taking her out to lunch.”
“Ah.” Colin nodded. “And are you familiar with Mrs. Bellingham’s brother . . . ? A Sergeant Thomas Mulrooney of the Irish Guard?”
The corporal’s face clouded. “I met him a few weeks ago. He came into the office to see the captain and they had a terrible row.”
“Did they?” Colin tried to maintain an air of ease, but it was easy to see the information had caught his interest. “What did it concern?”
“Oh!” The corporal glanced from Colin to me. “I wouldn’t know, sir. The captain had his door closed and he sent me to fetch some paperwork almost as soon as the sergeant arrived.”
“What paperwork?”
“Schedules for the guardsmen from Major Hampstead’s office.”
“And when you returned . . . ?”
He shrugged slightly and dropped his gaze to the floor. “They were still talking. It sounded rather heated, but I didn’t really hear anything. After a couple of minutes Sergeant Mulrooney came storming out. Didn’t say a word to me.”
“And the captain?”
He shook his head. “He was in his office the rest of the afternoon. I poked my head in before I left that night, but by then it was like nothing had happened.”
“And you say you couldn’t make out anything they were saying at all?”
“Well . . .” His eyes flicked about the room before he continued. “Captain Bellingham sounded quite upset about something Sergeant Mulrooney was accusing him of, but I don’t know what that was. Honestly, I was trying not to listen. . . .” His voice trailed off, accentuating his acute discomfort.
Colin flashed a brief smile as he eyed the young man. “How old are you, Corporal?”
“Twenty, sir. In a couple of weeks.”
“Still living at home?”
“In the barracks, sir, with the other new recruits.”
“Your parents must be very proud of you.”
He nodded with a hint of embarrassment. “They are. My mum makes a fuss. Comes round once a week with something she’s baked. The others look forward to her shortbreads and tarts, but I really wish she wouldn’t.”
“Save your wishes for better things. I take it you’re the only son?”
“Yes, sir. How did you know?”
“Such a doting mother could only have time for one boy.” He grinned. “How long have your parents been married?”
“Twenty-seven years,” he said with pride.
Again Colin smiled before continuing. “When Mrs. Bellingham came to her husband’s office, did you sense the same sort of marriage your parents have?”
“The Bellinghams . . . ?” His brow furrowed as he seemed to consider the question. “They weren’t married even half the time of my mum and dad. I’m sure that made a difference.”
“Of course. But what did you think when you saw them together?”
“She was very kind to me and the captain was always a gentleman. He set a fine example. It was a privilege to work for him.”
“Yes, yes, a regular candidate for canonization . . .”
“Pardon, sir?”
“The thing is”—Colin hopped up and began yet another slow arc around the periphery of the room—“somebody obviously didn’t feel that way. Are you certain you don’t remember any other details of his argument with Sergeant Mulrooney?”
Corporal Blevins shook his head.
“Did you mention it to anyone? A friend in the barracks perhaps?”
“No, sir.”
“What about Lady Dahlia Stuart? What do you make of your captain’s visits to her?”
He looked momentarily taken aback but managed to hold Colin’s gaze. “It was business, sir. He saw her a couple of times a month. There was always a log of it in his calendar.”
“What sort of business would a captain of the Queen’s Life Guard have with a known seer?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he mum
bled.
“You sat right outside the captain’s door for forty . . . fifty hours a week for five months, Corporal. Tell me what you do know.”
A pall came over the young man’s face as he struggled with Colin’s words. “I’ve told you—” he started to say, but then stopped, his brow knitting as though he suddenly recognized a falsehood.
“Corporal Blevins . . . ?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” He shook his head self-consciously. “About a month ago the captain gave me a letter that he had sealed with his insignia and asked that I personally deliver it were anything ever to happen to him.”
“Deliver it to whom?”
“I don’t remember. But I gave him my word that I would do it. I’ve forgotten all about it until just now.”
“Where did you put it?”
“In his safe.”
“Would it still be there?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Would you fetch it then? I should very much like to see it.”
The corporal shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “It’s sealed,” he repeated. “You can’t open it. I gave him my word I would deliver it. I should have done so already.”
“I understand, Corporal, and I think all the more of you for your loyalty. So let me give you my word: Allow me to see the addressee on the outside of that letter and if the person in question lives anywhere within the city’s limits I will hand deliver the missive myself, this very night, in precisely the same sealed state you present it to me. And if it belongs to someone outside of London, then you may return it to the safe without my ever touching it. Would that be fair?”
Corporal Blevins gazed at Colin and I could tell he was trying to determine whether such an agreement might violate the promise he had made to Captain Bellingham.
“I can vouch for Mr. Pendragon’s character,” I spoke up. “You must be aware that he is a man of impeccable integrity and reputation.”
“Of course.”
Colin smiled warmly. “I find it quite admirable that you seek to uphold your promise with such resolve.”
“Thank you, sir,” the corporal said gravely. “We’ll have it as you say then. Shall I get it now?”
“That would be ideal.”
The Bellingham Bloodbath Page 19
