The Mysterious Merriana

by Carolynn Carey

  On the twelfth day, Justin found the frustration intolerable and decided to pay a visit to the Drake and Cock, partly because he hoped that Tom and Luke had heard from Charles and partly because he needed the relaxation of visiting with his old friends again. He arrived late one afternoon and was relieved to find both Tom and Luke at home.

  “No, Justin,” Luke said with a shake of his head, “I’m afraid we haven’t heard a word from Charles. I wish I had better news for you. It’s unbelievable that he’s hidden Merriana so well even you can’t find her.”

  “Not really so unbelievable when you stop and think about it,” Justin replied with a weary sigh as he gingerly lowered himself into a rickety chair in the taproom of the Drake and Cock. “After all, I’m dealing with De la Nuit, one of the best agents that England has ever had in this damnable war. No doubt he has primed all of Jacques’ friends to keep their tongues between their teeth, and they are doing so, particularly when an Englishman comes inquiring about one of their own.”

  “What will you do now?” Tom wanted to know.

  “I’ll continue what I’ve been doing, but more thoroughly. I’ve got to visit every house in that district again and again until I find someone willing to talk to me or until someone gets word to Charles that I’m making inquiries. Hopefully Charles will then look me up.”

  “I can’t understand why Charles—” Tom began but quickly stopped as a coded knock sounded at the front door.

  “Two knocks, a pause, one knock, a pause, and one more knock,” noted Tom. “Who would that be, Luke?”

  “Hell’s bells, Tom, I don’t know. You were the one that wanted to devise all of these coded knocks. You should keep up with them yourself.”

  “Well, I may have devised them, but I told you to keep a list of them. Where did you put that list?”

  “Last time I recall seeing it, it was behind that clock sitting on the mantel, but you moved the clock to the hall table, so I don’t know what you did with the list.”

  “I distinctly remember that there was no list behind that clock when I moved it, Luke. Now think what you did with it.”

  The coded knock sounded again, this time with more force.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen,” Justin interrupted with a bit of steel in his voice. “I believe I can solve this little squabble. Why doesn’t one of you simply answer the door and see who’s knocking?”

  Tom flashed a sheepish smile in Justin’s direction before rising to go to the door.

  “Tare an ’ounds, Tom,” a querulous voice sounded from the hall. “A man has to knock the skin off his knuckles to get in around ’ere. What’s to do?”

  “Sorry, Jonathan. We were a bit distracted. You here on business or pleasure?”

  “A little of both, I reckon. I got some news, but I could tell it best if I had some ale to wet my whistle.”

  “Good enough. Come into the taproom. There’s an old friend of yours here. You remember Justin?”

  The old farmer did indeed remember Justin and had a few tales to tell about the time he had caught the “young rogue” stealing apples out of his orchard and another time when Justin and his new puppy had scared the farmer’s laying hens so badly that they hadn’t laid eggs for a month. In retrospect, these escapades seemed so funny, the old man chortled for five minutes, until Tom gently reminded him that his visit had also involved some business

  “Ah yes,” the old man replied as he drained the last of his ale. “Ye asked me to be on the lookout for a stranger who might be snoopin’ around Hilltops.”

  Three pairs of ears strained for his next words.

  “Well, ain’t been nobody like that as I know of,” the farmer noted.

  “Then why—?” Tom began angrily.

  “But…” the old man interrupted him with a sly glance, “they has been somebody askin’ if them at Hilltops has found that French maid what made off with Miss Antonia.”

  “Who and when?” Justin snapped.

  “It was earlier today, but I don’t know his name. Didn’t ask cause I didn’t talk to ’em. My missus did. He seen her out in her flower patch and hollered at her. I heard him holler and slipped up to the corner of the barn to see what he wanted. ’Twas a feller with a fake black beard and black wig. Dressed real plain, he was, but his clothes was all new, like he bought ’em just to play a part, if you know what I mean. Anyhow, my missus says as how she didn’t reckon the French gal had got caught yet, and he kinda smiled and thanked her and went on his way.”

  “Did you see which way he went?” Justin asked.

  “Guess I did, cause I followed him. Tom, this talkin’ is thirsty business. You got any more ale?”

  Tom scowled but went to fetch the old man another mug.

  “As I was sayin’,” he continued after Tom had handed him his ale, “I watched this stranger drive off toward the village in an old hired carriage pulled by two broke-down bays, and then I saddled Old Mabel and cut through the woods. Got there just as he was goin’ into The Hungry Dragon. I waited a spell, until I seen them pulling back the curtains in the private parlor—they got a private parlor there, you know, boys?” He asked his question with a sly grin and waited for an answer.

  Luke and Tom agreed with gritted teeth that indeed they were aware that The Hungry Dragon, unlike the Drake and Cock, boasted a private parlor.

  “Well,” their guest continued, “I waited a bit more and then went into the taproom. Figured that fellow was in the private parlor by then, and I was right. Then I ordered me an ale—good ale it was, too—and asked Jim if he didn’t have a guest for the night. Jim said he did. Said he didn’t care too much for the fellow, but his money was good. I asked how long a stay he meant to make, and Jim said just fer the night. Said he was leaving about an hour after sunrise. I didn’t ask his name or Jim might of got suspicious, and besides, if the feller weren’t up to no good, he wouldn’t have give his real name anyhow. Any questions, boys?”

  “Just one,” Justin replied. “If I were to want to follow this man in the morning and he has gotten rid of his black beard and wig, how would I know him?”

  “Well,” the old man began and then paused for several seconds, as though in deep thought. “Well,” he continued finally, “I would say, since they ain’t got no other guest at The Hungry Dragon tonight, you would be safe in following the first hired carriage pulled by two bays that leaves there in the morning.” He chortled merrily at his little joke, and Justin laughed along with him. Neither Tom nor Luke appeared amused.

  “I’d forgotten what a rascal you are, Jonathan,” Justin informed him, a comment which appeared to give the old man immense pleasure. He chuckled a minute before continuing.

  “I reckon you’re right, Justin. Now I’d best be on my way. The missus says she can’t rest none if I’m out at night. I tell her she babies me more than my own blessed mother did, may she rest in peace. Good night, boys.”

  Justin was still smiling as Tom escorted the old man to the door. “What a character,” he said.

  “Don’t encourage him, Justin,” Luke pleaded. “You don’t have to live in the same neighborhood with the old codger.”

  “We’ve got other things to think of,” Tom reminded them as he returned from seeing their guest out. “Do you think that stranger is Merriana’s uncle, Justin?”

  “I can’t imagine who else he could be. Obviously he’s learned that his plan to see Merriana executed for Antonia’s murder hasn’t worked. He must be desperate to find her now.”

  “Why don’t you just get the magistrate and have the man locked up, Justin?” Tom inquired. “Kidnapping and attempted murder would be cause for seeing him hang.”

  “I’m not sure I can identify the man, Tom,” Justin explained. “I saw little but the back of his head as he and Merriana rode away from the cottage that morning. Besides which, I hesitate to drag this whole unpleasant episode into the public view unless absolutely necessary. I would much prefer to handle it privately.”

  “I see your point
,” Luke said. “But obviously he hasn’t located Merriana either. What purpose will be solved in following him?”

  “Possibly none, but what else do you suggest I do? I’ll be as well off following him as I would be trying to locate Merriana. Charles hid her well.”

  For the second time that afternoon, a knock sounded at the door—four evenly spaced raps. The two brothers looked at each other in confusion. A smile tugged at the corners of Justin’s lips. “A plain old everyday knock,” he noted. “What on earth do you do now?”

  Tom favored him with a scowl. “I’ll see who’s at the door,” he replied in a voice that conveyed more than a bit of frustration.

  Justin and Tom sat in silence as Tom opened the creaking front door.

  “I say, my good man,” an interestingly cultured voice sounded. “I wish to see Justin Foster, the Earl of Cardleigh—immediately if you please.”

  “Ain’t never heard of the man,” Tom replied.

  “But I say, this is the Drake and Cock, is it not?”

  “It is, but I tell you again, sir, there’s no earl here.”

  “I’ll be damned,” the stranger muttered to himself. “Finally find the right inn, and Cardleigh ain’t here.” He paused before beginning to address Tom again.

  “I say, my good fellow, do you know how difficult this inn is to locate? I’ve ridden over half the countryside looking for it. Why is it so far from the main road? And why are all these blasted trees growing so close around it? Downright spooky if you ask me.”

  “Ain’t nobody asked you, my good fellow,” Tom responded. “And if you don’t get your shoulder out of my doorway, you’re going to be seeing a doctor to get it put back in its socket.”

  The man at the door replied in a tone that sounded both contrite and hurt. “Sorry, my good—eh, that is to say, eh—innkeeper—that’s what I’ll call you. Is that all right with you?”

  “Just wonderful!” Tom’s sarcasm seemed not to wound his unwanted guest at all.

  “Good, good,” the stranger replied. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to insult your fine inn here. If you don’t mind the trees, I don’t see why I should. But if you see Justin, will you tell him Duffy Finch has a message for him? He’ll find me at my rooms in London.”

  “Duffy!” Justin’s consternation was evident in the haste with which he jumped from his chair and ran toward the front door. He’d failed to recognize the voice of one of his oldest acquaintances, but then, he had never expected poor Duffy, who couldn’t string two thoughts together in any semblance of sense, to be looking for him at the Drake and Cock.

  Tom’s unwanted guest stared in silent astonishment as Justin approached the door.

  “Duffy,” Justin called. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you doing here?”

  “Justin! Might ask the same of you, old fellow. This, er, gentleman—I mean innkeeper—swore up, down, and sideways that he had never heard of you. Don’t he know who you are?”

  “Yes, he knows me. But usually when strangers inquire for me at the Drake and Cock, they use a code name. In the past I was involved in some secret work for our government.”

  “I remember that, now that you mention it, Justin. And come to think of it, Michael did tell me to ask for some peculiar name instead of asking for you, but I forgot the name and even if I hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter, because I forgot that I was supposed to use it. I ain’t much for all this secrecy business, you know.”

  Justin latched onto the one word in Duffy’s rambling sentence that had caught his attention with a vengeance. “Michael?” he said, hoping to prod Duffy into concentrating on his purpose.

  “Michael Hudson. Don’t you remember Michael Hudson, Justin? Thought you two used to work together.”

  “Of course I remember him. Come on in, Duffy. You must be thirsty. Tom, fetch Duffy some ale. Sit down, Duffy. Allow me to introduce you to my friend Luke. He and his brother Tom own the Drake and Cock. Tom’s the one who greeted you at the front door.”

  “Well,” noted Duffy conscientiously as he seated himself, “I wouldn’t say he greeted me exactly. He opened the door, yes. But he didn’t greet me.”

  “No,” Justin agreed quickly, “and I’m sorry I didn’t realize who you were sooner, Duffy. But you said Michael had sent me a message?”

  “Yes,” Duffy agreed as he took the mug of ale Tom had brought him and tipped it up for a long drink. “Good ale!”

  “Thanks,” Tom replied, then glanced at Justin, who was rubbing his forehead as though to ward off a headache. He sighed before addressing their guest. “Duffy, do you remember the message that Michael asked you to bring to me?”

  “Of course. He wrote it down for me. Said he would have come himself but had another assignment. Not sure what he meant, but that’s what he said.”

  Justin waited. Duffy smiled contentedly and regarded his ale. Justin sighed again.

  “Duffy, what did you do with the message after Michael wrote it down and gave it to you?”

  “I, hmmm, let me think. I… yes, that’s it. I put it in my pocket.” He grinned with simple pride that he had recalled that bit of information so readily.

  “Could I have it, please?” Justin was controlling his impatience, but not without an effort.

  “Certainly, my dear fellow. Now, let’s see. Which pocket did I put it in?”

  Justin clenched his fists at his sides while Duffy diligently searched each pocket of his clothing. The look on Duffy’s face grew more and more bewildered with each empty pocket. When he had finally looked into his last pocket for the second time, a wide grin split his face.

  “Now I remember. Wanted it to be safe, so put it in my inside pocket. Forgot I had it—the pocket, not the message. You had any coats made with inside pockets yet, Justin? All the rage now, you know?”

  Justin didn’t respond as he reached for the folded paper that Duffy had at last pulled from his inside pocket. He unfolded it and skimmed the written words quickly, then turned to Tom and Luke. “I know where she is. Michael Hudson, a former associate of mine, has managed to locate her. She’s on a farm about fifteen miles from London. I’ve got to get to her before Uncle Ernest finds her. I’ll leave at daybreak.”

  “But what about Uncle Ernest?” Luke wanted to know.

  “Didn’t know you had an Uncle Ernest, Justin,” Duffy interjected. “Your father didn’t have any brothers,” he continued, his brow knit in thoughtful concentration. “And on your mother’s side— now let’s see, there was Thomas and—”

  “Ernest is not my uncle, Duffy,” Justin interrupted quickly. “I just call him that.”

  “Why?” Duffy regarded his friend with an expectant expression.

  “Why?” Justin repeated blankly. He was beginning to feel as bemused as his friend behaved. “Well, I suppose it’s because someone I know calls him uncle.”

  Duffy shook his head. “Won’t do, Justin,” he declared with great certainty. “If you go around calling other people’s uncles, Uncle, and other people’s aunts, Aunt, and other people’s fathers, Father, well, just look how confusing it would be. Confused me!”

  Justin took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. “I’m sorry, Duffy. I didn’t mean to confuse you. Ah, just what are your plans, now that you’ve found me and delivered the message? Did you plan to spend the night here?”

  Duffy looked around him with a pronounced expression of dismay on his face. “Well—” he began, but Justin quickly intervened.

  “I almost forgot. I’m sorry to tell you, Duffy, but this inn is full for the night. Fortunately, there’s an excellent inn called The Hungry Dragon just down the road, and I’m sure that Tom and Luke would allow their stable boy to show you the way.”

  Duffy looked at Luke hopefully, and Luke quickly agreed to the plan. “But you had better leave right away,” he said. “It’ll be getting dark soon.”

  Duffy accepted Justin’s thanks for delivering the message and left the Drake and Cock with alacrity, mounted on his thoroughbred and t
railing behind Billy, who was riding the nag from the inn’s stable. The three men inside the Drake and Cock breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  “I’ve never seen nobody like him,” Tom noted as they watched Justin’s friend ride out of sight.

  “Nor are you likely to again,” Justin responded. “Duffy means well, but after a few minutes in his company, I begin to feel as though I should be locked up in Bedlam. I’ve no idea at all what we were talking about before Duffy arrived.

  “I was asking you about Merriana’s uncle,” Luke recalled. “Shouldn’t someone trail him? I know I’d feel a lot better if I knew where the old devil is.”

  “As would I,” Justin agreed. “Would you be willing to follow him, Luke?”

  “What about me?” Tom exclaimed quickly.

  “Luke would be better,” Justin replied. “We need someone unobtrusive and with the best intentions in the world, Tom, you can’t become unobtrusive.”

  Tom looked mutinous. “I want to go too,” he said with a stubborn jut of his chin.

  “And just who’s going to watch the inn, brother?” Luke asked.

  “We’ll close it,” Tom exclaimed. “We don’t ever have any business this time of year anyhow.”

  A coded knock on the door forestalled Luke’s answer.

  “The Drake and Cock has certainly been busy today,” Justin noted.

  “That’ll be Billy,” Tom exclaimed. “Hope that friend of yours hasn’t got him so turned around he don’t know which inn is The Hungry Dragon.”

  Billy walked into the tap room, a wide grin on his face. “Yer friend found another message in his other inside pocket, yer lordship,” he explained, holding out a folded piece of paper to Justin. “He says it’s for you.”

  Justin unfolded the missive, skimmed it, and then swore quite fluently for a few seconds. “It’s from the foreign office,” he explained to his curious friends. “I’m to report back to London immediately.”