He asked the others to move to the armchairs. Thomas dusted off his hands into the fireplace and wiped them on a handkerchief while Silas used the couch, sipping cold coffee in what he thought was a genteel manner.
‘A gentleman holds the cup by the handle,’ Thomas corrected him, tutting as he sat.
‘How did you get on, James?’
‘All done, My Lord.’ The footman wiped his forehead. ‘Apologies. I ran straight up, haven’t had time to dry off.’
‘Then go and do it,’ Thomas barked.
‘Easy, Tom. It’s doesn’t matter, James. I want us to take a pause,’ Archer said, closing the doors as James’ hands were full. He took the box from the footman. ‘It’s my brother’s birthday on the twenty-fifth,’ he said. ‘But in all the recent bother, I forgot that it is Silas’ today.’
‘And you bought me flowers?’ Silas was confused.
‘No, actually,’ Archer said equally confounded by the roses.
‘From Mr Andrej,’ James explained, and blushing somewhat, offered them. ‘He said, Mr Hawkins, that he would also take you for a drink with the change if that was acceptable to His Lordship.’
‘Of course.’
‘He was keen that I also pass on a private message.’ James bent to Silas and whispered in his ear.
Silas burst out laughing. ‘Yeah, well, when you see him, you can tell him I don’t need him for that anymore.’ He flashed a mischievous smirk at Archer. ‘Nice offer though, coming from him.’
‘Was there anything else, James?’ Archer held back a smile. He knew exactly what Fecker had offered and knew how much Silas would enjoy it, but he was equally as secure in the knowledge that the offer would not be accepted.
‘I also picked up the map you wanted.’ James handed it to him along with the box before delving in his pockets. ‘And your change, Sir. Six pounds, four shillings and sixpence ha’penny.’
‘You keep that.’
‘You what? I mean, I’m sorry, but… I’m not allowed.’
Archer laughed. James would do perfectly at Clearwater. Thomas had chosen well, and he would reward the butler later. The delighted outrage on James’ face showed the footman had been rewarded enough. The money represented three months’ wages.
‘You are permitted to keep tips,’ Archer said. ‘You’re not a telegram boy now, you are a gentleman’s footman. Put the change in your pocket, James, and thank you for running the errand. Gentlemen…’ He placed the box on the desk and addressed the others. ‘I need to apologise. The purpose of the errand was two-fold,’ he said. ‘Firstly, because I hadn’t remembered to collect Silas’ birthday gift. Sorry about that Silas, we’ll get to it later. Secondly, because I wanted to see if I could trust you, James. I sent him to Hennell’s,’ he explained to Thomas who knew of the jeweller. ‘As you can see, the man is completely trustworthy. Anyone else would have run off with the money. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘I wouldn’t have done,’ Thomas said, with a slight edge of annoyance.
‘Don’t be upset, Tom’, Archer said. ‘I know you wouldn’t, but I don’t need to test you. None of us know James, but I think he has proved he can be trusted, and, now that he can, I think we should offer him an explanation. What say you?’
‘You’re the boss,’ said Silas.
‘The East End matter?’ Thomas was dubious.
Archer watched James for his reaction. He stood staring at the wall as he had been taught to do. He could be of great service to them, and had suggested he understood the cryptic postcard.
‘The other matter.’ Archer considered. Maybe his knowledge of the Ripper murders was too much information just now. He curbed his enthusiasm. ‘James?’
‘Yes, Sir?’ James paid attention.
‘Would you like to sit down? And there’s no need to look at Thomas. My study is the only place in this world I can truly be myself, and etiquette beyond the door doesn’t apply in here. Sit. Would you like coffee?’
‘No thank you, Sir. Shall I pour you some?’
‘Just sit, James,’ Thomas sighed. ‘Are you sure, Archer?’
‘Yes, Tom.’
When James had perched himself uncertainly on the edge of a chair, Archer took up his favourite position at the fireplace.
‘James,’ he said. ‘We have recently been involved in some dangerous business. You don’t need the details at this moment. For now, all you need to know is that the old friend of mine I asked you to help find is unwell, as I said. His illness, however, is of the mind. He is a treacherous man and needs to be caught. That is what we are trying to do here.’
He allowed James a moment to look freely at the wall map, the chalkboard and other research before he continued.
‘The card was sent to my brother, and I will leave it to Tom to explain about Crispin, who is, or at least was incarcerated in a mental institution in the Netherlands.’
James tried hard to keep a blank expression, but his brow furrowed. ‘The Rotterdam Institute, Dordrecht?’ he asked.
‘Bravo. The man we seek is, or rather was an old friend of us both. We served together in the navy before circumstances forced me to retire.’
‘His mental brother tried to kill him,’ Silas said, cutting to the denouement. ‘Sorry, Archie, but if you’re going to tell a story, you might as well make it quick.’
‘Thank you, Silas. Yes, James, Crispin tried to kill me, because of an affair I had with another man. He was also the object of Quill’s desire, although I didn’t know that at the time. My brother’s mental condition has worsened over the years, but has never been satisfactorily explained, although my father spent a great deal of…
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph,’ Silas mumbled. ‘Shall I do it, Archie?’
Silas had that look. That one where he mixed damn cheek with sympathy, as if Archer couldn’t help being a verbose idiot, his lips curled at the edges, and, of course, it came with a wink. The impertinence didn’t annoy him. A spirited jest was Silas’ way of showing he was comfortable with Archer and those around him.
‘Go on then.’
‘Thing is, Jimmy,’ he said. ‘Archer… His Lordship fancied another man on his ship. His brother went mental and tortured the boyfriend ’till he topped himself. Or the brother had him killed. Either way, Archer had it out with his brother, who then tried to cut him in half. Now then, Quill also fancied the boyfriend — before he died, of course — got jealous of Archer, set a trap, nearly caught him, but Archer got away. Now we think he’s having another go. So, we’ve got a doctor who should be in the bedlam and a brother who already is. The brother wants his title back, but can’t get it until the doctor gets him out of the madhouse which he can’t do while Archer’s still alive. They’re both nutters, and both want my boyfriend dead.’ He grinned. ‘Welcome to Clearwater, mate.’
‘That was hardly succinct,’ Thomas muttered.
‘Do you want me to repeat any of that, Jimmy?’
James swallowed, took a breath, but was unable to speak.
‘If you are uncomfortable, James,’ Archer said. ‘Then say so and go about your duties. You hardly know any of us, and we’ve already displayed rather eccentric behaviour, but…’ He approached, and James made to stand. ‘No, stay there.’ Archer crouched to him. ‘I know you’re one of us, James. Thomas saw it straight away, I see it now, and of course, Lady Marshall sniffs us out at a hundred paces. The point is, if you want nothing to do with this, then say so. I trust you not to discuss anything with anyone, and you are under no obligation to help. Either way, you remain in my employ, and the status quo is maintained.’
James raised a smile, but it was replaced a second later by confusion. He held Archer’s gaze and squared his shoulders, reaching a decision.
‘Sir,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Say wha
t’s on your mind.’
‘Very well.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I am happy to help if I can, and no, I won’t discuss anything. I know I’ve only been here a day, but last night after I got back, I stood at the door and thought, this is where I live. I couldn’t believe it. Then I thought, no. It’s not just where I’m going to live; it feels like home — even more so now you’ve taken me into your confidence.’
‘That’s splendid,’ Archer said and stood, his legs aching. ‘I can assure you, James, there are no other houses where this kind of discussion would take place, let alone permit the outrage at dinner last night.’
‘I enjoyed that, Sir,’ James admitted. ‘As in, I enjoyed the freedom to speak and said things I’d never been able to before. That was once I remembered house rule number one.’
‘Ah ha!’ Archer grinned. ‘Quite right. You should understand, James, in case you were wondering, that although Thomas is my butler he is also my best friend and has been since we were children.’
‘I know he is very fond of you, Sir.’
‘And me of him.’
‘Ah, everyone loves Thomas,’ Silas quipped.
‘And I don’t need to explain what my secretary is to me,’ Archer said, throwing Silas a smirk. ‘So, that said. What say you? Will you help us?’
James hesitated.
‘It’s up to you, James,’ Thomas said. ‘There’s no wrong answer.’
‘It’s not that, Mr Payne. But… Well, the thing is…’
Archer watched, fascinated as James’ eyes pinked. He screwed them up and swallowed. Fascination turned to horror when he started to cry.
‘Good God, man.’ Archer stood back. ‘What on earth is it? Are you not used to kindness?’
‘It’s not that, Sir,’ James snivelled, searching his pockets. Concerned, Thomas passed him his handkerchief. ‘I have a confession to make concerning Mr Tripp.’
Archer’s blood chilled. ‘Tripp?’ he exclaimed. ‘What’s he got to do with you?’
James wiped his nose and composed himself. When he had cleared his throat, apologised and sniffed back the last of his sudden tears, he embarked on a story so outrageous it was all Archer could do not to take his ceremonial sword from the wall, leave the house and search out his old butler.
‘He paid you to spy on me?’ he fumed, when James had finished. ‘Is that why you applied for the job?’
James shook his head, tears welling again.
‘Have you spoken to him since you have been here?’
Again, James protested the negative.
Archer believed him. It would have been easy for James to have made off with the fifty pounds, found Tripp, told him of the dinner conversation and vanished. He owed no loyalty to Archer, and yet he had been faithful despite the temptation. If there were sides to be taken, and there clearly were, he had sided with Archer. Not only that, he had spoken honestly at the risk of losing his job.
Thomas watched him closely, and even Silas fell serious, waiting to see what Archer would do next.
‘You poor chap,’ he said, returning to the footman. Kneeling, he took his hands. ‘I am sorry Tripp did this to you, it’s bloody unfair. But please assure me you will have nothing more to do with him, and you have not found your place in my household because you intend to continue his despicable work.’
‘Honestly, Sir,’ James said, wide-eyed and sincere. ‘I didn’t apply for this job because of that, although Tripp did prep me for the interview.’
‘You genuinely wanted to come into service even though you could possibly make more money as a messenger?’ Archer queried. ‘What with commissions and so on?’
James nodded. ‘I did, Sir. I was with them long after I should have been a postman, but even that’s not the reason for coming here.’ He looked at Thomas. ‘Sorry, Tom,’ he said. ‘Tripp told me to seduce you so you’d want me here.’
‘That’s disgusting,’ Archer seethed.
‘But, Tom, honest, that’s not why… I mean, I fancied you the first time I saw you. I mean that. I went for the job because I…’ He looked at Archer, frustrated with himself and pleading.
‘Just say it,’ Archer whispered.
‘’Cos I fell for you, Tom,’ James said. ‘You know, love and that.’
‘Well, you are here now,’ Archer said, to draw attention away from Thomas’ blanched face. ‘I am sure Tom believes you. I do. Thank you for your honesty.’
‘The first rule, eh?’ James sniffed.
‘Quite. If you ask me, Thomas is a lucky man.’
It was hard to tell if James’ crimson cheeks were caused by embarrassment or crying.
The footman pulled himself together. ‘My apologies, My Lord,’ he said. ‘If you still wish to employ me, you have my assistance in any form.’
The man was admirable. Archer rose and gripped his shoulder.
‘I have no intention of sending you away, Jimmy,’ he said kindly. ‘Remember the second rule of Clearwater. In private, we are friends. In public, we have our stations. Rule one is to be honest, and rule two is, if you like, to be dishonest, but only to those who seek to harm us. I will ponder the Tripp situation, but for now, with only a few days until my brother’s birthday, we have another matter far more interesting than a butler’s duplicity. As Silas would put it, what the feck is Quill up to?’
‘He’ll be up to his neck in shit when I get hold of him,’ Silas grumbled. ‘Any more coffee?’
He served himself while Archer returned to the writing table.
‘James? Will you join us and lend your expertise, or is this too ridiculous to contemplate?’
‘You believe me, Mr Payne? I’ve not lied to you.’ James was still fixated with Thomas’ concern.
Thomas refused to return his gaze. He stood at the window and looked out saying, ‘His Lordship is waiting for your reply.’
James’ shoulders slumped, and Archer sympathised. ‘In my Navy career,’ he said, ‘I faced many difficult times, but none as grim as when admitting my mistakes to my superior officer. You and Thomas must talk privately, but for now, Tom is correct. Time is of the essence, James, and I believe we could do with your help.’
‘If Mr Payne has no objections,’ James said.
‘Do what you want.’
Archer was not prepared to chastise Tom for his truculence, it would only alienate him. He held James’ arm to reassure him. ‘Up to you,’ he said.
‘I will do whatever you ask,’ James said, and in an attempt to brighten his mood, added, ‘I’m fond of a puzzle.’
‘Good man.’ Archer released him. ‘Gentlemen, now we have James on board, we should hold a council of war.’
‘You haven’t told me what’s in the box yet,’ Silas said, ogling it.
‘That’s for later.’ Archer winked. ‘If you can wait?’
‘I had to wait twenty years to find you, didn’t I? I can hold on.’
Archer pulled a fourth chair to the table. ‘James,’ he said. ‘Please explain what you saw on that postcard that made you speak of trouble.’
James sat, and the others took up their places, one man on each side, the map and chalkboard opposite Archer. James twisted in his chair to read it. When he turned back, he picked up the postcard and, between quick, sad glances at Thomas, reread the words.
‘Well, Sir,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen many telegrams in my day, and I’m used to truncation. There are parts of that message that suggest a shortening of meaning as some people do to save money. That was the first thing odd.’
‘That would make sense on a telegram,’ Archer said. ‘But Quill is not short of money, and this is a postcard within an envelope.’
‘Right. So why not send a letter? And another thing, I’d have thought a doctor would know how to spell. Apart from those things,
it’s the manner of the message.’
‘The manner?’
‘It’s not exactly an invitation to a dance, is it, Sir?’
‘No, you’re right. And there’s no need to keep inserting Sir, it gets on my nerves.’
‘My Apologies, My Lord.’
Archer huffed a laugh and let it go. ‘What do you mean about spelling?’
James pointed to words on the card. ‘He’s spelt “I read” as I reded. And “public” with an A on the end. Publica.’
‘The Latin word for State,’ Archer said.
‘Oh, I see. And does that make sense?’
‘None of it makes sense.’
‘Except we know who it is from,’ Thomas said. ‘And, as you say, it’s not meant to be pleasant. Maybe if you read it aloud, Archer?’
James was surprised at Thomas’ use of the viscount’s first name, and Archer imagined he was having trouble taking in their familiarity.
‘Very well,’ he said, taking the card. ‘What we have here is a picture of a ruin. I first thought it might be related to Quill’s telegram in some way. It looks like a ruined abbey or a monastery, and the word “Restoration” appeared to link the two messages. But then I realised that Quill didn’t intend us to find the telegram, so the card and the message are not meant to be taken together. Whatever Quill is planning, we have the advantage because he doesn’t know we have intercepted his communication. Meanwhile, we should take this postcard as intended for us. The witness drew our attention to his boarding the train, and Thomas was correct; he wants us to know he is alive. He also wants us to know where he is and what he is doing, else why bother sending this?’
‘Silas sighed. ‘He could have just told us.’
‘It’s not how he works,’ Thomas reasoned.
‘Quite. So, we address the coded postcard.’ Archer held it up. ‘And here is what he has sent.
He made sure all eyes were on him and read it aloud.
‘”Once more unto the breach. (IV. III) The way you twisted words to a scabby tale B ireded today or your truth embed publica.”’ He put the postcard on the table. ‘See? No sense whatsoever apart from the quote.’
Twisted Tracks (The Clearwater Mysteries Book 2) Page 20
