She nodded and sighed.
“This has been the problem all along. He is cunning. And poor Xavier risked so much to get those to me. I ought to have never confided my fears to him. He should have stayed with his order, and he might still be alive, instead of dying alone, so wretchedly far from his home.”
“Mr Carswell was with him,” Giles pointed out.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “And that strikes me as the strangest thing of all. I had not expected my prayers to be answered in such a fashion, and I am still wondering what the lesson in that is for me.”
“There is another letter,” Felix said, reaching into his coat. “Don Xavier hid it behind a picture at Mr Bryce’s fencing rooms. Perhaps this is the one you need to settle the matter for once and for all.”
He took out the document and handed it to her. Her hand touched his as they did, and he wondered at her strength and calmness in the face of such impossible intrigues.
“Perhaps,” she said. “Excuse me, while I look at this.”
She went sat down on a rustic bench and began to read the letter.
“You will need some time, I shall go and stall Don Luiz,” Giles said. “You stay here, Carswell.”
Felix went and sat at the far end of the bench as she continued to read. She glanced at him for a moment and then went on with her reading. He stared ahead of him, wondering what might happen if Major Vernon failed to keep Don Luiz at bay.
At length she folded the letter and held it out to him.
“It is best you keep it with the others,” she said.
“What did it say? Is it of use?”
“It may be,” she said.
“So what will you do? Surely you should detach yourself from him, for your own sake, now? Lord Rothborough has heard Don Luiz is peddling a fake gold mine to get support for his coup. You can’t associate with him any longer, surely, if that’s true?”
“That mine is not fake,” she said, with a sigh. “That is one of my difficulties. My husband commissioned the survey from Herr Valk. It is an impeccable piece of work. We made sure that it was, and dear Lord, we were so happy when we saw it first, to know how much it would help the country! But it was our downfall. I think that was the reason Juan had to die. Luiz could not resist such a prize.” She pressed her face to her hands for a moment. “I wish I could walk away, but I can’t.”
“You can,” said Felix. “You must.”
She uncovered her face and reached for his hand, and squeezed it for a moment before letting it go. “Oh, how sweet it would be to stay here forever, to turn my back on it all, but it is quite impossible.” She gazed at him, long and hard. “I never dared dream that you would have grown so handsome. But you were such a beautiful child – but now – and even with this!” Her finger traced the scar on his cheek. “However did you come by that?”
“It’s a long story and not a pleasant one,” he said, as lightly as he could.
“Oh dear. I hope you do not have too many of those,” she said. “I hope life is kind to you.” He gave slight shrug, and looked away from her searching eyes.
“I have all I need,” he managed to say.
“That’s a troubling answer,” she said.
“Please don’t be troubled on my account,” he said.
“I can hardly prevent it,” she said. “Can I? I have never stopped loving you, Felix, not for a moment. Every day I have thought of you, and wondered, and longed and now, here you are, looking stoop-shouldered and wretched!”
He flushed a little at the warmth of this and found himself speculating what sort of life it would have been for him, for them both, had she not given him over to Lord Rothborough. To have grown up her son, in that shifting, ambiguous world, where plenty reigned at one moment and poverty another? Martinez would never have married her with a little bastard in tow, that was certain. His presence would have ruined all her chances of respectability, and his own life would have been equally blighted. That they should now be strangers was the great price she had had to pay to save themselves.
He straightened himself a little and said, “It’s nothing, really, please don’t worry about me. You have already done so much for me. More than anyone should have to do, in fact.”
She smiled briefly at that and got to her feet.
“We should go in,” she said. “They’ll be wondering where I am.”
“There is something else you should know,” Felix said. “It might help you. That bracelet that Dona Clara is wearing – the one with the rubies on it?” She nodded. “It was stolen from Holbroke and we think Don Luiz bought it from a fence, knowing it was stolen. Major Vernon could arrest Don Luiz for buying stolen goods and make the charge stick, I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, is that where it came from?” she said.
“Yes. Will that not help you?”
“It might,” she said.
“It would raise a great many questions about his general conduct. It will make a certain amount of noise, and with luck, lose him what support he has garnered. But he needs to be made to admit it.”
“That is the great difficulty,” she said. “He never admits to anything.”
“But something might be contrived,” said Felix. “In fact, I have an idea of what might be done to catch him out.”
“You must not do anything foolish,” she said. “Please.”
“It won’t be foolish,” he said. “And I must do something. Your life might be in danger.”
She seemed to reflect on what he had said for a long moment. Then she laid her hands on his shoulders briefly, and said, “If I am not allowed to trouble myself about you, then you must do the same for me.”
He did not know how to answer this and she gave him no chance. “Come,” she said, and they began to walk back towards the the hotel.
A moment later, Major Vernon appeared, coming down the path to find them.
“I’ve excused ourselves from lunch,” he said. “You are right, ma’am, he is interested in Mr Carswell and asking a great many questions. I have deflected him for now, I think, but I judged it better that he does not lay eyes on him just now.”
“That is for the best,” said Dona Blanca. “I will go straight up. Good day, gentlemen, and thank you,” with which she hurried away.
“What was in the letter?” Major Vernon asked.
“Nothing startling, it seems. But that gold mine is real.”
“It is?”
“She thinks that is why her husband was murdered. For the gold.”
“That makes perfect sense.”
“Don Luiz may murder her yet,” Felix said. “If he knows what she knows she does not stand a chance. We must do something. I’ve had an idea. About the bracelet.”
“Yes?”
“Obviously he will not admit to it being fenced. He is too wily for that. But the fact is he has done it once and might be persuaded to do it again. What if we suggest to him that there is another to match it and at a better price? Could we tempt him into a compromising situation?”
“That’s a good thought. Dona Clara was there just now, and she was still wearing it. She is clearly infatuated with it. Perhaps she is the one we should be tempting? If she were to hear that there is another? I wonder how we could contrive this. There must be a way, I am sure of it. But first, let’s go and get something to eat. I need to sit down.”
They went into the coffee room of the hotel and settled themselves in a quiet corner.
Felix was glad of the chance to gather his own thoughts. His conversation with Dona Blanca had unsettled him. He could not understand how he was supposed to feel towards her, or how he could feel anything but confusion. She was familiar and yet so strange to him.
They had just finished their lunch and Felix was wondering if the Major would allow him to light a cheroot, when a man came running into the coffee room and asked, in a very agitated manner,
“Is there a doctor here? There has –” He broke of, seeing Felix rise from his seat.
> “I am,” he said. “What is the trouble?”
“Thank God!” said the man.“Will you come at once, sir? There has been a terrible accident.”
Chapter Forty-two
Giles went with Carswell, presenting his own credentials to the man, who turned out to be the hotel manager.
“This way,” he said, leading them out onto the south side of the hotel and the broad terrace opening from it. At the far end were two men crouched by a prone body. They had both removed their hats.
Carswell ran the last distance towards them and threw himself on his knees and began to check for any signs of life.
“I believe the gentleman is...” began the manager as they drew nearer.
“Don Luiz Ramirez,” said Giles. His form was unmistakable, large and muscled, but now lying prone like a giant felled in a nursery tale.
Carswell rested back on his heels, frowning.
“Nothing?” Giles said.
“Nothing,” Carswell said. “He’s gone.” He slid his hand under the dead man’s neck. “Fracture of the third vertebra, I’d say, judging by the dislocation. No-one survives that. If he had fallen differently, there might have been some chance. But that flower trough is the culprit.”
“And that,” said Giles, pointing up at the intricate ironwork balcony which was now dangling by a single hinge from the side of the building. “It must have given way under his weight.”
Carswell looked up at it and grimaced.
“Damnable things. I attended the post-mortem of a woman was killed by one of those in Edinburgh. She fell onto the railings below. He’s had a mercifully quick death. She was alive for some hours.” He gave a slight shudder.
“I don’t understand it,” said the manager. “We are very careful about checking them for rust and decay.”
“Possibly not careful enough,” said Carswell getting up. He took off his coat and was about to lay it over the corpse.
“One moment,” said Giles, catching sight of something on the man’s forehead. He squatted down and peered at it. A red mark in the skin, as if something had been pressed hard against it.
He pointed it out to Carswell and said, “Any idea what might have caused that?”
“Not immediately.”
“Cover him up,” said Giles, turning over various possibilities in his mind. He got up and turned to the gardeners. “Did any of you see what happened?”
“No, sir, we just heard him hit the ground,” the elder of them said. “We were working just down there, clipping that hedge, with our backs to the hotel.”
“He gave this great cry,” said the other. “Chilled me blood, it did. And by the time we got here, he was wheezing away and then he was gone. Just like that, in no more than a snap of your fingers.” He shook his head. “God rest his soul.”
“You are acquainted with the gentleman, sir?” said the Manager to Giles. “And his family?”
Giles could not help sighing slightly, thinking of the dark-eyed boys at the fencing rooms that morning and how this news would hurt them.
“Yes. And I will go and speak to them. They do not seem to be aware that anything has happened. Will you send for a constable? The coroner will need to be informed. Mr Carswell, are you happy to leave him? I think you may be needed upstairs.”
“Natural justice?” said Carswell as they climbed the grand staircase.
“Perhaps,” said Giles.
They went straight into the suite, into the reception room where he had so recently made his excuses to Don Luiz, where the candles to the late president still burned before his portrait and the curtains were drawn. There was no-one there.
“Now which room was it?” he said going to the right-hand door. It opened onto a passageway, with rooms opening on both sides. Mercifully, There was no sign of the women and children.
“That one, I should say,” said Felix, and opened the door.
He was right. The sash was pushed right up and the muslin curtains drawn to one side to allow easy access to the balcony. A chair had been placed by the window, and on a small table nearby was a box of cigars.
“So was he in the habit of sitting there with his cigar?” said Giles. “This looks like his dressing room.” There was a writing desk with many papers on it.
“And then wandering out onto the balcony with it?” said Carswell, who was at the window looking down.
“You know more about the habits of smokers than I do,” said Giles. “But perhaps the ladies objected to him smoking inside.”
“How long have they been staying here?” Carswell said. “If he went out more than once or twice a day, a man of his size – it could have seriously damaged the balcony, particularly if it was already in a parlous state. Perhaps it just gave way today. He leant back too far and goes toppling back? Dear God.”
“Luiz, Luiz?” A woman’s voice at the door – it was Dona Clara.
Giles went to the door and opened it, his heart leaden. To have to break such news –
She was with the children and their nursemaid. They had clearly all been out in the gardens at the front of the hotel for a brief post luncheon stroll, and had therefore seen and heard nothing.
It proved impossible to keep Dona Clara from the window and seeing the fallen giant on the terrace below. She rapidly became hysterical from the shock and her screams brought the other servants running in, and increased the horror of the revelation. The handsome boys who had been at the fencing lesson stared at him and then at their howling mother.
“Dona Blanca,” Giles said to Carswell, who was attempting to calm Dona Clara. “Where is she?”
“We need her,” said Carswell. “Dona Blanca?” he said to one of the servants. “Where is she?”
One of the boys went running out of the room and Giles followed him, guessing he had gone to fetch her. They crossed the darkened shrine to the President and into the passageway beyond. The boy was about to knock on the door but Giles put his finger to his lips. His mind was filling with uncomfortable thoughts about why she had not at once appeared when Dona Clara began screaming.
“Go back to your mother,” he said to the boy.
He knocked but there was no answer. He gently tried the door. It was not locked. He opened it a chink and saw she was there, and sitting in a shadowy corner on a low chair.
“May I come in?” he asked, opening the door a little wider. Now he noticed she was holding something but had concealed it in the folds of her black skirts.
She did not answer. Another glance revealed a box lying open on the dressing table. It looked like a pistol case. Was that a weapon she was holding?
He came in a little further without waiting for her permission, and carefully closed the door behind him. He saw the powder flask now and the capper beside it. There was a loaded gun somewhere in this room. Was it a pistol that had made that mark on Don Luiz’s forehead?
He came closer to her. She seemed to stiffen as he approached – she was wary, watching him as carefully as he watched her, her breast rising and falling conspicuously. He thought he saw her hand stir. Was she tightening her grip on the pistol?
“Ma’am?” he said.
“Yes?” she said at last.
“Don Luiz is – “
“Dead. Yes,” she said. “I know.”
“An accident,” he said.
“No.”
“It looks very like one.”
“It was not,” she said and buried her other hand into the folds of her skirt.
“He fell. That balcony was not sound.”
“But he would not have gone out there had I not –”
Now she moved her hands, the folds of stuff fell aside and revealed the gun. Her right hand was firmly on the pistol butt, while the fingers of the left were curled about the barrel, cradling it, as if it were something very precious to her.
“It’s loaded, I think?” he said, stepping a little closer. “You should give that to me, ma’am.”
She shook her head and lifted it in
both hands towards her breast, and so it lay there, rather in the manner of a saint clutching a crucifix in a religious painting.
“Juan gave me this. He taught me to use it too. He was always more worried for my safety than his own. In fact, he sent all the way to Texas for it. It is the latest thing. It has a revolving chamber. One can shoot five bullets in succession. Quite an instrument for an execution, wouldn’t you say?”
“Ma’am, give that to me, I beg you.”
“No, I am not done with it yet,” and with shaking hands she aimed the gun towards her temple.
“Please,” he said softly, edging towards her.”For the love of God, please give me that. That is a worse crime than anything you think you may have done. Please do not. You are afraid, yes, but there is nothing to fear. Let God judge you. Do not judge yourself. Do not.”
Steeling himself he reached towards her hand and laying his own over it, pulled it away. She struggled against him but he had the better of her. She yielded, and the pistol tumbled from her hand. It crashed to the floor.
She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears.
“Oh, dear God –” she said.
He bent down and picked up the gun. His own hands were trembling and clumsy as he made it safe again – the mechanism was unfamiliar, and the darkened room did not help him.
“I am going to clean this and put it away,” he said. “No-one saw you with it. This need go no further.”
“You would do that?” Her voice was strangled with tears. “A man in your position –”
“The weapon was not discharged. The death was an accident.”
She rose to her feet and crossed herself.
“You are an angel, truly,” she said.
“No, far from it. It is just –” He found it a little hard to speak. “I find some satisfaction in helping you. Justice is sometimes elusive.”
“Yes,” she said. “Oh dear Lord it is. And I lost my patience. That is what happened today. I grew tired of telling myself that I will go back to Santa Magdalena and plunge myself into the dirty politics and the factions, and fight and fight to get justice for my dead husband!”
The Shadowcutter Page 35
