*
Pierce sat in his study with the remnants of his dinner before him, having returned from the village too late to join the rest of the diners in the dining room. Melrose entered with the black bottle of whiskey and poured him a drink and began to remove the dishes.
“Leave those for a minute,” Pierce instructed him, then waved him to take the seat across from him. “I had a very interesting meeting in the village today. I’d like to get your opinion of it.”
“Of course sir.”
“I went to the village to see Jane. She’s intriguing; although I heard her conspire against me, I don’t feel threatened by her.” Pierce held up a hand before Melrose could debate this irrational feeling. “I know, the trusting innocent young man gets duped by the beautiful woman and never sees it coming. I understand the concept of a femme fatal and will not be taken in. That she’s hiding something is beyond debate, but we can’t be sure as to her ultimate motive.”
“Very well sir,” replied Melrose without confidence.
“As I was saying, I had hoped to meet Jane to try and get more information out her. Even faulty stories could provide clues to follow. Plus I figured to provide some misleading facts of my own; that I continue to plan an escape, that I met my new pack and distrust them, etc.”
“And did your trip prove fruitful sir?”
“I’m not sure. Before we could sit down together she told me of an elderly gentleman staying at the pub who had not been out of his rooms for some time. She asked me to look in on him, provide some company. It was odd.”
“In what way sir?” asked Melrose. “It seems very straight forward to me.”
“By itself yes, but there is more going on at that pub than what’s on the surface.” Seeing the questioning look on Melrose’s face, Pierce continued. “For starters what’s an old infirm man doing on the top floor when we passed a handful of empty rooms on the way to see him? Surely it would be more convenient for him to be closer to the main level.
“Second, though the man was indeed old, he didn’t seem infirm or sick. His limbs were not frail and he exhibited no signs of pain when he moved his joints. I could be mistaken, but I doubt it. So why the deception? I would have easily accepted a case of misanthropy as an excuse to stay away from the crowd of the pub.”
“Are you suggesting he’s a prisoner there?”
“It appeared that way. At the bottom of the stairs there was a chair and table with a half eaten meal on it. Like someone was watching the stairs and was quickly ushered away before we went up. But I’m not convinced. Why go to the trouble of hiding someone, only to have them visited?”
Melrose thought intently, but could offer no thesis before Pierce began again.
“Then there was our conversation. Most of these things I’ve pointed out did not immediately strike me when I was there, but later when I walked back. Something felt odd and not quit right when I was there, but I didn’t feel in danger. It felt thrown together, as if they weren’t expecting me.”
“In what way sir?”
“Well, if it had been set up like some sort of elaborate and subtle interrogation, it did not really succeed. Jane and I spoke for a short time and I believe we both walked away empty handed. I tried to find out more about the Manor and the surrounding island and she responded as if she hadn’t lived here her whole life. I answered her questions as I told you I had planned; deception, falsehood, and outright lies. But our exchange would have been the same with or without the presence of the old man. I kept waiting for him to start some sneaky interrogation, but it never happened. In fact the old man didn’t so much ask me questions about myself, but told me. It’s as if he had studied my biography before meeting me. Isn’t that strange?”
Upon hearing this Melrose immediately faced Pierce head on and stared right into his eyes, momentarily losing his professional detachment.
“What did he tell you? What did he say?”
“Well nothing ground breaking, but it was extraordinary. He was able to tell where I came from, that I worked in an office at a desk job, that I studied fencing, and a myriad of other little tidbits. He explained how he had reached his conclusions, and to be honest his deductions seemed very straightforward. I suppose in a way he did interrogate me, only he provided me with the answers instead of asking questions. Why do you ask?”
“I was asking around the Manor today as you instructed. Something out of the ordinary did happen last night. Apparently one of the servants was taken sick and the Doctor’s Pack, the Black Pack, rushed him to the village.”
“Why is that so strange?”
“Sir, Doctor Cleaver is a medical doctor and more proficient than anyone in the village. Plus his Pack would not escort a servant to the village, they’d have a groomsman or stable boy do it. And finally, I heard of no servants missing from the Manor… This old man, was he tall and thin? With a pointed face, long nose and piercing grey eyes?”
“That’s him exactly!” exclaimed Pierce, slightly confused. “Do you know him?”
“He’s no servant, I served him for many years as I serve you now. He iss the most observant and logical man I’ve ever met. How he ended up in that room in the pub is mysterious indeed. One we will need to discover quickly in order to get him out.”
“Why, who is he?” Inquired Pierce.
“His name is Victor Lodge, Master of Ravenwood Manor.”
A sharp knock sounded on the outer door before Melrose could continue. He looked to his master who nodded for him to answer it while he tried to process this sudden revelation. Melrose returned to the room, transformed back into servant from conspirator.
“That was a footman sir; the members have retired to the salon and billiard room. Lord Schell has invited you to join him if you are available.”
“I suppose it would seem unnatural to decline the invitation,” replied Pierce before trying out his new lord of the manor voice. “Have the footman send my regards to Lord Schell and inform him I’ll be down momentarily.”
Holding back a laugh, Melrose nodded and left the room, returning seconds later.
“I will prepare your change of clothes sir.”
“Change?” inquired Pierce, looking over his current garments. “This suit seems perfectly fine to me. I didn’t drop one piece of my dinner on it.”
“As astonishing as that is sir, since the rest of the members will be dressed in their dining clothes, you will have to reciprocate to fit in,” countered Melrose. He turned sharply towards the door, hiding a quick smirk, and made his way to the dressing room.
“I think I liked him better when he didn’t speak,” muttered Pierce sarcastically. “Me and my liberal sense of equality.”
Melrose already had the new suit out and was collecting the highly polished shoes. After setting them out he left to provide his master with a small amount of privacy to change. After waiting a few minutes he returned to the dressing room and was greeted by quiet curses as Pierce struggled with a set of cufflinks.
“Allow me sir,” instructed Melrose and he easily fitted them on. With this task finished, he removed the black dinner jacket with its long tails from the hangar and moved behind Pierce to help him into it.
“A perfect fit sir,” offered Melrose, stepping back as both of them inspected Pierce in the long cheval mirror.
“I look like an overgrown penguin,” countered Pierce.
“That means it fits sir. Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Now that we know his true whereabouts, we have to get Lord Lodge back,” Melrose gently pleaded.
“I was just thinking about that. Although we know his location, we don’t know the circumstances of why he’s there. Until we know that, any action would be premature.”
“Very well sir. But I don’t like it.”
Chapter 8
A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1) Page 29
