Death of a Fop (Bow Street Consultant series Book 1)

by Sarah Waldock

  Caleb gave a shy smile.

  “I do not say that the same does not happen,” he said, “but there are those as talk and those as are good at keeping close mouthed whether it is for their own good or no; and I fancy you are used to concealing all within, even from yourself, and a shock has brought it out before one who you do not have to consider as important in your world. For you cannot talk to a servant as there is no better way of letting out a secret. The most loyal servant may be induced to talk if they may be made to boast of their gentleman or lady.”

  Jane was startled.

  “That I had not considered” she said. “So how much have you learned about Frank and me from my household?”

  “That he kept you short; but demanded perfection. That he demanded near slavery from you; that he hated the baby and was jealous of her especially as she is a girl not a boy; that he beat you when you rebelled and would not submit to tyranny by becoming monosyllabic towards him – not that your servants know such a word – and he accused you of having a lover which the servants knew well that you had not, but declared that his mistress had expensive tastes in perfume and was blonde. From the scents and hair on his laundry you understand” he added.

  “There are apparently no secrets in any family!” cried Jane, shocked.

  “No Ma’am” agreed Caleb. “The only ones who can keep secrets do not keep servants; and they are generally of the estate that live so close to others that the neighbours know instead.”

  “I find I am quite cast down” said Jane “And not a little humiliated.”

  “Mrs Churchill” said Caleb earnestly “Not one thing have I learned from the servants that in any wise might diminish any one’s opinion of you who are a patient and kindly lady, never taking out your feelings on the servants and speaking douce words even when your husband has beaten you – and I do want to shake the fambles of whoever turned him off” he added “And it is only he what shows deficient in all that I have heard.”

  Jane flushed.

  “It gives you more reason to think that I may have had a hand in his death” she said.

  “If you had had a hand in his death, Mrs Churchill you would have been more readily able to deal with such matters as turning off his servants, and disposing of the horse because such details a meticulous lady like yourself would have considered ahead of time” said Caleb. “You may not be saddened by that blasted rascal’s death if you pardon my French, but you are plainly quite shocked. Even though I am most impressed by how quickly you can think out details and implications. And I am certain that you have the truth of the matter that he was forging provenance for reset jewellery to hide its origins. Maybe even with several pieces having their stones mixed and matched. The price would not be top sovereign but it would as you surmise be higher by far than without any provenance at all, and if done systematically then two thousand guineas is a small price to pay off a forger and a salary into the bargain. It is my belief” he added excitedly “That we may be onto the greatest jewellery robbing ring that London has ever known!”

  “Why did they kill him?” asked Jane “If he was of such use to them?”

  “Because he cheated them!” cried Caleb enthusiastically. “He took the Avon necklace – and before it was reset too, so that if anyone had seen it, he could, unless his tongue was silenced, lead the law enforcement officers right back to the thieves! They tortured him to find out what he had done with it – and they went to retrieve it from Dolly who showed a remarkably venal and stubborn streak in not giving it up. Had we not arrived when we did I make no bones about it that I believe they would have killed her too.”

  Jane shuddered.

  “I think it is less venality on her part than sentimentality” she said “The girl is inclined to an excess of sensibility; though she has her reasons. I had thought that I should hate a woman of such a kind but actually I feel nothing but compassion for her. And she is scarce more than a child; though she is so,” she blushed, “well grown; I cannot think her more than fifteen years, little older than our nursery maid.”

  “More than likely” said Caleb. “And as you have not fainted for the thought of her being turned off by these rogues I fancy you are like the excellent Elinor in the novel by ‘A Lady’ called ‘Sense and Sensibility’.”

  “I should prefer never to be like that silly widgeon Marianne” said Jane. “So might this help to catch the jewel thieves? That will surely enhance your career?”

  “It had crossed my mind” said Caleb “And the fact that there is a substantial reward for information leading to their capture would benefit you too if I make it clear that your help was essential.”

  “But would not the reward be yours?” asked Jane.

  He shook his head.

  “We are not permitted to partake of rewards, bribes or other remuneration outside our salaries bar the reward for a conviction” he said “And I don’t say bribery don’t go on because it do. Does I mean. But it ain’t supposed to.”

  “It does seem unfair that you should not benefit” said Jane. “However” she brightened “If all goes well and I may help you to catch these precious villains and avenge my foolish and weak husband and if there is a reward, there is nothing to stop you partaking in it so far as dining with me regularly.”

  “Now Mrs Churchill that's generous right enough but not wise” said Caleb.

  “I have tried to be wise so long” said Jane “It has cost me the love of a husband, his life, and possibly financial security. Perhaps the time has come to be a little foolish. Disregard my distempers, I pray you; let us go into the dining room, it is time for dinner for I hear Fowler making discreet noises with the cutlery.”

  Chapter 9

  Dolly was subdued eating, and surreptitiously watched Jane to see how she managed her cutlery. Jane smiled at her.

  “You are doing very well” she murmured.

  “Ta” said Dolly looking pleased. “What you gwine ter do if I am pregnant?”

  Fowler almost dropped the plate of potatoes he was carrying.

  Jane flushed.

  “Here, Dolly, me gal, not at the meal” said Caleb. “When you ladies withdraw, that’s the time to talk lady stuff; we men is too delicate to cope.”

  Dolly subsided with a muttered apology. Jane mouthed a thanks to Caleb who – she could hardly believe her eyes – winked at her. Nobody had ever winked at her before.

  It was most reprehensible that it made her want to giggle. She looked down quickly at her plate.

  Caleb was dismayed; he had somehow broken etiquette. Her chin was wobbling; surely he had not made her cry? No – that little single dimple of hers was popping in and out, such a tiny, half hidden dimple, hardly a dimple at all in a face that should have more colour, be less thin and drawn….. she was laughing. He heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Gawd Mr Armitage you do have your uses” murmured Fowler as he served Caleb “That ruddy girl will be the death of me straight up she will.”

  So Mr Fowler had the tones of London beneath his carefully cultivated nob voice, thought Caleb. Well if he can do it, so can I.

  “Comes of being in the army… I was a sergeant” he breathed back.

  “Mr Armitage! If you’d only let me know earlier you were respectable I shouldn’t have taken snuff at you” said Fowler and straightened up to move on to get the next dish.

  Caleb gave a silent whistle. That top-lofty footman had unbent seemingly! Well as an ally he was easier to take than as an undeclared enemy. And he was loyal enough to Mrs Churchill; and Molly the tweenie had told him that it was because Mr Fowler had been sent by the Mistress to pawn her own necklace – not the family one – to pay the wages of all the servants before the master got plumper in the pockets because Molly had overheard it with her own ears while she was cleaning under the table. Fowler knew where he was well off.

  Caleb resolved to tell him that the Master was involved in something that might bring the mistress a reward; without going into unnecessary detail he co
uld get the immobile-faced servant as an even closer ally for Mrs Churchill’s sake.

  “So what does happen if I’m in the family way?” persisted Dolly when she and Jane withdrew, leaving Caleb looking dubiously at the bottle of port.

  “Well I should think that it would be best for you and the child if I adopt him or her to grow up with Frances” said Jane “Of course if it is a boy he would not inherit; illegitimates are barred from inheritance, though I should think if I have any rights over my husband’s estates I could make a fair provision. And you shall then be an aunt; will that suit you?”

  Dolly looked wistful.

  “It wouldn’t be no life for a nipper wiv no da wivout a swell ma like you” she said. “Couldn’t we make like you ‘as a posthumous child?”

  Jane looked startled.

  “I – I do not know if I could carry off the imposture” she said. “Besides, I cannot be certain that I do not have a posthumous child; Frank continued to enjoy marital relations with me.”

  Dolly shuddered.

  “That don’t sound too friendly” she said.

  “Frank disliked me having a child” Jane decided not to go into detail “And it meant that we were not…..friendly.”

  The jeering remarks about the changes childbearing had wrought upon her body – his child conceived in, at the time, love for him. His comments about udders because she wanted to feed Frances for herself……. His jealousy because she would leave him in the night to feed the baby. His insistence on marital rights before her body had recovered enough to make it anything but painful; and continued exertion of those rights on her regularly; her revenge to lie passive and unresponsive. Oh her revenge had been petty; but then Frank made her feel petty. She had always been the one who had to give; somehow to make him take was a bittersweet revenge.

  “I ain’t a gentleman to be drinking Mrs Churchill’s port” said Caleb to Fowler “But sit down a moment; I want to tell you somethink”.

  “It will only spoil if it isn’t drunk” said Fowler pouring Caleb a glass full. “Maybe just this once I’ll join you; it’s a shame to waste a fine port.”

  He poured himself a modest measure and recapped the decanter. Caleb nodded in approval. This was no man tippling when the master’s back was turned but a genuine appreciation of the wine and a desire not to see it go to waste. The liquor smelled rich and expensive; and Caleb told himself to be careful with a drink that was likely to be somewhat stronger than the heavy wets he was used to. The similarity in name between the malted porter he was used to and this fortified wine was a coincidence and the effects of the two should never be confused – or the unwary drinker of port would be the one to become confused!

  “It’s like this” said Caleb “Mr Churchill was into something havy-cavy as I expect you have surmised.”

  “Well if you ask me, and since it’s the mistress who pays my wages now, he was a dashed loose screw” said Fowler “And I don’t need military language to explain it! Bless the lady, she has no need to take on his Cyprian!”

  “The girl was attacked by the ruffians who killed him thinking that she knew what they couldn’t get out of him” said Caleb “Which is how I come to be staying here, account of worrying that they might turn up to torture Mrs Churchill, or the babby to make her talk.”

  “You don’t say!” Fowler was deeply shocked and actually showed it in a spasm of emotion across his wooden face. “Well then Mr Armitage, I’ll fettle Mr Churchill’s pistol then and sleep with that aside me just in case!” said he grimly. “Pretty deep stuff he was in then?”

  “I think deeper than he realised; which was how come he did something to annoy them; and I don’t know nothin’ so I shan’t be whiddling the scrap to you right now” said Caleb. “But if it leads to catching some other precious villains, there’s a reward in it for missus; which means she’ll be able to feel that she can keep on the house and her servants and you my lad as secure as her.”

  “Well I hope you manage that, Mr Armitage…. Lawks but you do manage that hussy well!”

  “Oh I think she’ll be amenable to you dropping her a hint too, Mr Fowler; especially if I put it to her that she’s to listen to you. Give her a burst of the old tongue if you know what I mean.”

  Fowler flushed.

  “It took me long enough to lose it” he said.

  “Oh but a wise man knows ‘ow to be bilingual” said Caleb “I learned some swell-cove words in the army and how to pick up me aitches most of the time; but I’d be no end grateful if you’d give me a few tips” he added artfully. A few tips would be useful; and so would consolidating his position as an ally to Fowler by letting the man feel that he could show Caleb a thing or two.

  “It’s all in the accent” said Fowler “See when I started learning – teaching – myself I started of talking with a round pebble in my mouth to make me mince my words out. Getting the grammar right – that’s just book learning that you can do in a library. But the voice now; that’s the hard bit. Different vowels.”

  “You don’t say!” said Caleb “Well I call that downright ingenious I do. Here, put that decanter out of the way, lad, before it looks too tempting-like back at us both.”

  “You’re right” said Fowler, moving the decanter firmly onto the tray and standing up. “Well, Mr Armitage, time for me to ask Maggie Ketch to put on water to boil for you and the….Mistress and her guest. Thank you kindly for letting me know what’s what. And an army man is always respectable; my brother was in the army.”

  With which pronouncement he swept out as silent footed and majestic as usual.

  Caleb went through to join the women and found Frances had been brought down. She crawled over to him and took a hold of his boot. Caleb stooped and picked her up without thinking, and threw her up.

  For a moment her lower lip wobbled ominously; then she decided that she had liked the experience and gave a gurgle of delight. Caleb threw her up again so that she was giggling and gave her firmly back to young Annie who was watching him in some trepidation.

  “Have you children of your own, Mr Armitage?” asked Jane, a wistful look on her face.

  “No ma’am; a few nieces and nephews. Never married” said Caleb.

  “You look as though you are quite natural with babies” said Jane “I cannot imagine Frank doing that.”

  She did not mention – she did not have to, for Caleb could guess – that Frank had never even held his daughter. It had been irresponsible of him to pick the baby up; why with no contact with her father any man might have terrified her! But small Frances seemed to have her mother’s courage not her father’s cowardice.

  Caleb smiled shyly at Jane.

  “She is a bonny baby,” he said, “and you must be so happy that she is so healthy!”

  “I am” said Jane “I do not know how I would bear it if anything happened to her!”

  “I am sure she will be glad of such a devoted mother” said Caleb.

  Whatever it took, whatever it cost, he swore to himself he would never let these faceless villains take Fanny and even threaten to hurt her. Had it occurred to Mrs Churchill that they might do so? He hoped not; that extra sick fear she could well do without. But on the other hand.....on the other hand, Mrs Churchill was a very level headed woman and if she were prepared for any such act she would be perhaps ready to take precautions.

  “Mrs Churchill,” said Caleb, “it might be wise not to let Fanny go to the park for a while.”

  The grey eyes dilated in terror. Then Jane nodded.

  “Certainly Mr Armitage” she said. “An ounce of precaution is worth a ton of cure.”

  Caleb gave a silent whistle. She was worth a score of such as her late fool of a husband!

  Chapter 10

  When Jane arose in the morning it was to have a note handed to her by Fowler.

  “Mr Armitage had to go out” said Fowler. “He said the note explained.”

  “Why thank you Fowler” said Jane. “Then I shall spend the morning writing
the characters for the servants we shall not be keeping; they may work out their month but I shall not keep them if they find another situation before the time is up if they may start immediately. Tell me, is there anything positive I may say of Juliet?”

  Fowler considered.

  “She is honest,” he said, “and clean in her own person if not too scrupulous about those portions of the house that do not show; Mrs Ketch has had occasion to speak to her about dusting the tops of doors and cornices.”

  “Ah well, honesty is a virtue” said Jane. “Thank you Fowler.”

  She took herself into the book room to peruse Caleb’s letter and to write.

  The letter ran, “Dear Mrs Churchill, I have gone to find out what I may of Dutchmen in London. It is my belief that if we may find the identity of Mr Churchill’s accommodating friend we may be much closer to the puzzle. I have not forgotten the disposal of your horse but I feel this is more important as you have already fodder in the mews. I do not know how long I shall be gone; Mrs Ketch has kindly agreed to keep me a bowl of stew and some bread so I beg you do not await nuncheon for my presence.

  Your obedient servant, Caleb Armitage.”

  “He is such a thoughtful man” murmured Jane.

  Jane had finished writing the characters for Juliet, Emerson and Palmer and took them down to the servants’ quarters to hand them over personally.

  She had learned from Mrs Campbell that having the mistress arrive suddenly in the servants’ hall was a good way to keep servants on their toes; and a little judicious and unladylike eavesdropping before walking in often highlighted any problems in the household. As Mrs Campbell had said, a military wife learned the tricks her husband had learned as a junior officer to help maintain discipline in the ranks, and nothing destroyed discipline like discontentment.

  Jane tripped lightly down the stairs to the basement and listened accordingly; the door to the servants’ hall being pushed to but not shut.