The Butterfly Conspiracy

by Vivian Conroy

  And that was the woman Merula was about to meet.

  “Miss Merriweather.”

  Merula swung round to see Miss Knight standing behind her as if she had materialized out of nothing. A chill went down her spine as she imagined that that woman’s hand had attached the moth, the portent of death, to her dress at the exhibition. She had not seen her, let alone recognized her.

  “You wrote to me that you wanted to talk to me about an urgent matter,” Miss Knight said, smiling pleasantly. Her brown eyes were warm and intelligent, not like the eyes of a cold-blooded murderer. But then Merula had never confronted a murderer before and was only speculating about how she’d look. Maybe the talent of a murderer was the ability to be so clever and calm and confident, without for a moment acknowledging her own wickedness and the sacredness of life?

  “I’m sure,” Merula said in a slightly trembling voice, “you know I’m in a desperate position. My uncle is accused of murder and, as I helped him with his research into the butterflies, the police are looking for me too. I haven’t been home in days. I feel hunted, dirty, all alone.”

  “You’re hardly alone with Raven Royston helping you,” Miss Knight said in a vicious tone, as if it irked her that a handsome man had come to Merula’s aid.

  Merula tried to look forlorn. “He abandoned me as well. He is just a coward who believed that I would fall into his arms so he could take advantage of me. When I did nothing of the sort, he told me he couldn’t risk his reputation for me and left London.”

  “Aren’t all men the same?” Miss Knight said with a peculiar little smile around her lips. “They want one thing and when they can’t get it, they’re gone.”

  She observed Merula closely. “He is a handsome man. Were you not tempted to give him what he asked of you?”

  “I don’t bargain with my person,” Merula said curtly. “Money is another matter, of course. I’m sure that Royston would be willing to assist me again if I had some financial advantage to offer him. That is why I wrote to you.”

  Miss Knight hitched a fine brow. “You think I have money? And I would feel the need to assist you?”

  “Whether you have money or not is no concern of mine,” Merula said. The other woman’s callous tone encouraged her to also show a cold side. “You live in a rich household, and I’m sure you can lay your hands on something valuable. Doesn’t Foxwell sell off zoological items? Perhaps you could as well?”

  “I don’t have the contacts.” Miss Knight folded her hands on her back. “I’m afraid my time is rather short, Miss Merriweather.”

  “Almonds,” Merula said. And she saw a flicker in Miss Knight’s eyes. The briefest flash of a response.

  “Excuse me?” the companion said.

  “You know very well what I’m referring to. I’m willing, however, to forget all that I know when I get some money to survive the predicament I am in.”

  Miss Knight studied her with narrowed eyes. “Money won’t get your uncle out of prison.”

  “My aunt will take care of that. She has powerful friends. My uncle may have been arrested, but he can’t be convicted without solid proof that the butterfly killed Lady Sophia, and there is no such proof. They won’t find any poison in her body.”

  Miss Knight didn’t say anything. She just continued watching Merula with those brown eyes that seemed so kind and interested.

  Merula said, “I know you will want to leave London. And I won’t keep you here. I just want some money in exchange for my silence.”

  She was sure as she said all this that Miss Knight would never fall for it. She was relying on the connection between almonds and the death to stay hidden or, if discovered, prove to be so fragile it couldn’t lead to anything.

  Miss Knight said, “A park is not the best place to discuss this. I have a room where we can talk freely. I also have some money there. I’d like to know what your plans are so I may assist you. I can imagine your uncle is fairly protected, but you are not. I should have realized sooner that your inquiries into the case were not for his sake, but for your own.”

  Merula wanted to protest that she wasn’t selfish, but she gathered that Miss Knight could understand that sentiment and that it might be the only thing that prevented her from walking away now.

  “Show me where it is,” she said.

  The two women walked side by side, away from the park, through busy streets. There was nothing to say until they reached their destination. To Merula’s mind, it took forever, and with every step she got more worried regarding what she was about to do. She trusted Raven and Bowsprit to save her at the crucial moment, but she could not even be sure they were still following her and Miss Knight. What if they were seen by a police officer and arrested?

  What if she was on her own once she got to Miss Knight’s room?

  What if Miss Knight decided not to attack her at all but simply give her some money? Would it be enough proof of her guilt? She could simply argue she had wanted to help a person in need.

  So Merula actually had to hope Miss Knight would attack her, not knowing in what form the attack might come.

  They went up two stairs to Miss Knight’s room, a simple affair with little furniture and a fireplace where a low fire burned. Miss Knight took the teapot off the side table and poured two cups of tea. She handed one to Merula and sat down with the other.

  She took a long sip and sighed. “Nothing quite like tea to calm down.” She looked at Merula with a smile.

  Merula sat down as well, picking up the tea. It had a strong herbal scent, perhaps chamomile or something with lavender. She held the rim of the cup to her mouth and pretended to sip.

  Miss Knight said, “What is your plan? Can you go back to your uncle and aunt?”

  “Hardly,” Merula lied. “Men burned down the conservatory. My aunt blames me. She never liked having me around. I’m not her daughter.”

  Miss Knight nodded. “I suspected something like that.” She sipped from the tea again. “I could help you leave the country. That would be best for all involved.”

  “What could I do abroad? How would I live? I have never done manual labor.”

  Miss Knight’s expression flashed with contempt a moment. “It won’t kill you.”

  Merula leaned back against the chair. “It killed Mrs. Bridgewater.”

  “Lady Sophia killed Mrs. Bridgewater. She was a cold, evil woman. She drove a wedge between people.”

  “Between Foxwell and you?” Merula asked. “Julia believed he loved her, but I never thought he did. I have always thought he was pressured by Lady Sophia to make a match she approved of.”

  “But she didn’t approve of your dear cousin Julia,” Miss Knight spat hatefully. “She didn’t approve of anyone. Sometimes I thought she was herself in love with Simon’s handsome face and desperate to keep him to herself.”

  Merula kept her hands round the teacup. Miss Knight’s spiteful suggestion struck her as highly improbable, but who knew what a jealous mind could begin to believe? Had Miss Knight killed Lady Sophia to remove an alleged rival? “Lady Sophia wasn’t a fool.”

  “She was. She was afraid of everything. It was pathetic to see how she mashed her food, how even the slightest lump in something could drive her wild with fear.”

  “Because she believed an almond getting into her windpipe had almost killed her. But you knew better. You knew it had never been the obstruction of the nut. It had been the nut itself, its vital qualities. Yet you didn’t tell her. You didn’t try to alleviate her fears. Or, should I say, you consciously let her be afraid of things that wouldn’t harm her so the thing that could harm her could strike her when she least expected it?”

  Miss Knight smiled softly. “We were talking about you and your future, Miss Merriweather, not about me.”

  Merula said, “But you fascinate me, Miss Knight. You are so clever. You thought of everything. You put the fan into her hands the moment she was about to leave the house. She would die under someone else’s roof and while you were m
iles away. You’d never be implicated.”

  She held the woman’s gaze. “How could you know that some poor idiotic neighbor with an opium addiction would remember the dismissal of the cook over the almond and would mention it to me, just because he had heard about a reward for information?”

  She apologized to the neighbor inwardly for denigrating him so, but Miss Knight had to be played. As the woman felt superior to other people, she would recognize that feeling in others and agree with it. By sounding just as cold and selfish as Miss Knight, Merula might convince her to take her seriously.

  Miss Knight held her gaze. “Opium is very dangerous. Too much of it can kill you.”

  Merula stared at her. Her breath stuck in her throat under the woman’s suggestive tone.

  Miss Knight nodded slowly. “Oh, yes. I know of him. Or should I say, I knew of him? I’m sure his obituary will not mention his addiction and just say nice things about the old fool.”

  She clicked her tongue. “Ah, greed, Miss Merriweather. It can be deadly.”

  Merula’s mind raced. Had Miss Knight killed the neighbor? After he had talked to them? Was that poor old addicted fool dead because of this case?

  This woman was more dangerous than Merula had first thought.

  Merula pretended to take a deep draft of her tea. The cup almost slipped from her sweaty palms. She said in a squeaky voice, “You must understand, I have nothing against you. I only need some money. I can’t turn anywhere else. I’m an outcast.”

  Miss Knight watched her. “Why would I believe that if I gave you anything, you wouldn’t come back and bleed me dry?” She leaned on the table with both hands. “It would be very unwise to try and play games with me, Miss Merriweather. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  Merula put the cup down and touched her forehead. She suppressed a yawn. “I’ve had so little sleep.”

  Miss Knight smiled. “You could lie down on my bed for an hour. I don’t mind.”

  Merula said, “That’s not necessary.” Then she sagged to a side, almost toppling off the chair.

  Miss Knight did nothing to help her as she slipped to the floor. Looking down on her, she said, “I applaud you for working it out, Miss Merriweather. I thought the almond incident was forgotten and even if someone remembered, they would not connect it to her death now. But you did. That was smart. But you should have thought twice about coming here with me. I am a nurse, after all.”

  Merula groaned. She started to grope around her, tried to drag herself to the door.

  Miss Knight let her move a few inches and then leaned over her. “This is no good,” she whispered. “You won’t get far. You’d better stay here. Die here. This room is rented under a fake name. I guess you might be buried under it. I hope you like it. Else it would be a shame. But that is what happens to busybodies.”

  At the last word she kicked Merula viciously in the side.

  Merula felt pain splash through her. She didn’t have to fake the cry that seemed to ring through her head. Where were Bowsprit and Raven? Why weren’t they doing anything to save her?

  Miss Knight crouched beside her. “You little meddling bitch,” she spat. “You believed you could snare a lord to help you, that you could outwit the police. You believed you could even outwit me and get money out of it. But I don’t intend to pay you or anybody else. All I earned is mine.”

  She continued in a low, almost soothing tone, “I even warned you. The empty poison bottle, the moth left on your dress, exactly the intellectual clues I thought you and your little band would enjoy.”

  “How…” Merula spoke in a halting, croaking voice, “did you find out I was staying with Galileo so you could deliver the parcel there?”

  “I watched Lord Havilock’s house that night. I wanted to be sure that a doctor was called and that a dead body would be removed. I saw you and Royston leave in a rush, almost as if you were fleeing the scene of the death. I thought it couldn’t hurt to follow you and see what you wanted. Royston was already suspected of having endangered people’s lives in several instances, with his exploding engine and his bad hair tonic. I wondered if he was somehow afraid to be accused of Lady Sophia’s death and thought how I might best use that to my own advantage. I saw the men enter your uncle’s house and saw the fire break out and watched you two escape from the conservatory with a bundle. Obviously you were fugitives, and that was very interesting. Again, I only had to follow you to know where you had gone and why. Galileo’s address is infamous among household personnel, as nobody wants to work there or even go there for an errand. They are all so afraid of his poisonous creatures.”

  Merula whispered, “But why kill Lady Sophia at all? Did you hate her so much? For Foxwell’s sake? Now that he has her fortune, he can marry any woman he likes. It won’t be you.”

  Miss Knight hissed, “You have no idea what I wanted. Foxwell? Marriage?” She seemed to compose herself with an effort and laughed softly as if the insinuation hadn’t hurt her at all. She got to her feet and looked down on Merula. “Forgive me that I can’t talk more, but I have things to do.”

  She went to the table and reached for Merula’s cup of tea that was still standing there.

  At that moment, the door crashed open and a figure flung himself through the room. He grabbed Miss Knight’s shoulders and pulled her away from the table. She fought viciously, kicking at the table as if trying to topple it.

  “Bowsprit!” a voice called. “Secure that cup of tea. It will contain traces of poison.”

  “What are you talking about?” Miss Knight protested. “It is a simple herbal concoction. Very calming.”

  “Which is why Merula lies crumpled on the floor!” Raven cried. Still struggling with the woman, he glanced at her. “Merula! Merula!”

  Bowsprit picked up the teacup and sniffed at it.

  “That won’t prove anything,” Raven cried. “Some poisons are odorless.”

  Miss Knight cried, “Just herbal tea. I drank from it as well. I poured both our cups from the same teapot.” She pointed at it standing on the side table.

  “Yes,” Raven said, “but I wager that in Merula’s cup you had already put the poison. She couldn’t see that there was something inside already when you poured the tea.” He repeated to Bowsprit, “Hang on to that cup at all costs.”

  Miss Knight wrestled to escape from his grasp. “Are you all insane? Let go of me! Help! Someone help me! I’m being attacked. Help!”

  At the door, curious faces appeared, peeking in. Raven called to them, “Alert the police. This woman should be arrested for murder.”

  People shrank back upon hearing the word murder.

  Miss Knight said viciously, “They will not call the police for you. They don’t want anything to do with murder. Besides, if the police came, they’d arrest you. They are looking for you. Not me.”

  “That will change when they have analyzed that tea,” Raven said grimly. “It will contain whatever you used to sedate Merula.”

  He looked at her again, despair in his features.

  “Why is she not moving?” he spat to Bowsprit. “You hold this woman so I can go see what is wrong with Merula.”

  Bowsprit gestured at the teacup. “What to do with this? If it spills, our evidence is lost.”

  Raven groaned. “We should have brought Galileo as well. We are short a pair of hands.”

  As he spoke, a policeman appeared in the doorway. He stared from Merula’s form on the floor to Raven holding Miss Knight and Bowsprit with the teacup. “What is going on here?”

  “The tea is poisoned,” Raven declared. “This woman here is a murderess who feared exposure and tried to kill Miss Merriweather before she could tell. Please ensure the liquid in the cup is tested for poison.”

  “These men forced themselves into my room with the dead woman,” Miss Knight cried. “They believed I was out for the day and wanted to put her in my room so I would be blamed for murder. I do not know her at all.”

  “Dead?” Rav
en cried. “No! Merula cannot be dead.”

  He let go of Miss Knight and fell to his knees on the floor beside Merula, touching her face and neck. “Why can’t you find a pulse when you need one?” he muttered.

  Released, Miss Knight threw herself at a cupboard in the corner, extracted something from between the shelf and the cabinet wall, and ran to the fireplace to toss it into the flames.

  In a flash, Merula was up on her feet and stopped the woman, knocking the item she carried out of her hands. It fell to the floor.

  Miss Knight roared with anger and lashed out at Merula, hitting her full in the face.

  Merula staggered back, against Raven, who locked her in his arms.

  Merula pointed at the item on the floor. “Secure that! It is important.”

  The policeman came into the room and bent to pick it up. “It is a notebook,” he said in a surprised tone. “What can it mean?”

  Miss Knight was at the door already, intending to rush through it, but Bowsprit had put the precious teacup back on the table and placed himself in her path. She knocked into him hard and sank to her knees, gasping for breath.

  “If you’d be so good as to handcuff this woman,” Bowsprit said to the policeman, “we will explain to you what is in the notebook.” He threw a warning look at Raven and Merula as if to say, You’d better know what to do now.

  Merula moved away from Raven, wincing, as every movement hurt her side where Miss Knight had kicked her. Perhaps she had bruised a rib?

  She reached for the notebook in the officer’s hand and opened it. “Here are…” She let her eye run quickly down the notes, hoping she could make sense of them. The policeman would believe them and arrest Miss Knight only if they could prove she had been involved in something criminal.

  On the pages before Merula were four columns. In the first, names of people. In the second, items. In the third, figures. In the fourth, names again, with short comments.

  Merula had no idea what it all meant.

  But Miss Knight had wanted to destroy the notebook, so it had to be related to criminal actions somehow and perhaps even to Lady Sophia’s death.