A Death at Crystal Palace

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Where is Merry? Is she with the twins? They cannot be in the nursery if Amy is sleeping.’

  Richenda stopped short. She rounded on Glanville to scold her, but seeing the horrified expression on her face, she spun back to me. ‘Euphemia?’ she said.

  ‘Merry and the twins have been taken,’ I said.

  ‘By whom?’ said Richenda, frowning. ‘Did Hans come? You surely did not fight him, McLeod. I know you have a dislike of one another, but…’

  ‘Richenda,’ I said loudly, ‘Listen. Amy hid when two men broke into the room. As you guessed, Rory fought them, but had been overcome. While he was unconscious the men took Merry and the twins.’

  ‘Took them? Took them where?’

  ‘Do you not think if we knew that we would be there instead of here?’ said Bertram snappily.

  ‘Glanville, do you think you can find the smelling salts?’

  Rory reached down by the settle and handed them to her. ‘Utterly disgusting,’ he murmured. ‘I cannae think why any woman would carry these around with her.’

  But Richenda swayed in her chair. Her eyelids fluttered and before Glanville could step across the room, she slumped forward. Being inclined to the larger size in certain aspects of the feminine form, she tumbled out of her chair and landed face first on the floor. I noted that neither of the gentlemen had made any effort to catch her. Rory had already taken a beating and so perhaps could have been excused, but Bertram did not stir a hair. I gave him a sour look. He shrugged.

  ‘You may love me for many things,’ he said, ‘but you must admit my upper body strength is not among my greatest features.’

  While he attempted to excuse himself, Glanville fussed over her mistress. She managed to get her upright and leaning against the chair. ‘Must have been a washerwoman,’ murmured Bertram. ‘I hear they have beefy forearms.’

  Showing more refinement that my betrothed, Glanville ignored him and placed the smelling salts under Richenda’s nose. She came to with a start.7 She twitched and glanced quickly around the room.

  ‘How? What? Why?’ she said in a broken voice and then she burst into tears. Both gentlemen stiffened, and their eyes bulged with apprehension. There is little that disturbs a man more than a woman crying. Especially if he knows her.

  ‘I will telephone to the police, ma’am,’ said Glanville. ‘How long have the children been missing?’

  ‘Not that long,’ said Bertram. ‘I ran after them while Euphemia tended to McLeod. I believe we must only have missed them by minutes.’

  ‘Can you be sure?’ said Glanville. ‘The police will need facts.’

  ‘McLeod was unconscious when we arrived. If he had been out for much longer than that he would be mentally unbalanced. Euphemia?’ said Bertram.

  ‘I do not claim any medical knowledge,’ I said. ‘But my impression was indeed that Rory had only recently passed out. His nose was still bleeding. If it had been longer I imagine it would have clotted. Although when Joe broke his nose falling out of the apple tree it did bleed for ages.’

  Glanville glanced at Rory. ‘Perhaps if we showed them the bloodied shirt they could make an estimation? Or ask a police doctor to do so?’

  ‘Excellent thought,’ said Bertram. ‘Where did you put it, McLeod?’

  I noticed that Richenda’s colour had changed from white to greenish. I stepped slightly away. ‘Enough, the three of us need to go.’

  ‘What,’ said Richenda.

  ‘We think we can find help - special help, but we need to fetch it,’ I said.

  ‘Whatever do you mean?’ said Glanville.

  ‘Careful,’ growled Rory.

  ‘I am afraid I have already said too much. Please trust that we go unwillingly, but we hope to return with help,’ I said. Bertram rolled his eyes at me.

  Richenda glanced between us. ‘What is going on? Is this all your fault?’ she said, accusing the three of us.

  I reminded myself mentally that these were her twins and the fact she had stupidly brought them to London to visit her completely untrustworthy brother were facts that could be visited later. However, Bertram did not share my opinion and let her have his own unbridled version of his thoughts on her actions. Richenda cried harder. Glanville sat back on her heels.

  ‘I am phoning the police and they will wish to speak to everyone. You cannot leave,’ she said in a voice of authority.

  Rory pulled on his jacket over his fresh shirt. That he had remained in a state of such undress before ladies and his master spoke volumes of the turbulence within his mind. ‘There are some details to which you may not be privy, Glanville,’ he said with all the haughtiness a butler might command. ‘We must go.’

  Glanville shot to her feet and stood between us and the door. ‘I do not know what is happening here,’ she said, ‘But I know my mistress’s babies have gone missing and her family wish to quit the scene. That sounds mighty strange to me. You will have to move me bodily out of the way if you wish to pass. Ma’am, you will need to call the police. Can you manage? I will prevent the others from leaving.’ Although a mature woman, of not particularly significant stature, she stood legs apart and arms akimbo, in a stance both aggressive and determined. In that moment I realised I rather liked Richenda’s lady’s maid and I should have paid her more attention.

  ‘Are you sure you want to call the police,’ I said as Richenda attempted to pull herself to her feet using the chair. ‘They took Merry. I suspect you will shortly hear about a ransom demand. Involving the police at this stage might endanger Merry and the twins. It might make the kidnappers panic.’

  ‘Maybe you should call that husband of yours,’ said Rory. ‘He is a gentleman of influence. Besides, if you need to raise money, a banker is surely the man to have by your side.’

  Richenda and Glanville exchanged glances. ‘I will call Hans first,’ Richenda said.

  ‘An excellent idea,’ I responded. ‘He is an intelligent gentleman with a calm and level head.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Richenda. ‘We all know how much you and Hans think of each other.’ With this extraordinary statement she went into her chamber were there was a telephone apparatus. The moment the door closed behind her I nodded to Rory. He strode forward and picked Glanville clean off the ground. Bertram and I shot past. We heard Glanville’s exclamations of indignation behind us, but we did not look back. Rory joined us moments later in the lift.

  ‘I rather like that wee woman,’ he said as the cage descended. ‘She has spunk.’

  Bertram nodded. ‘She is certainly made of the right stuff.’

  ‘I fear Richenda will contact the police,’ I said. ‘She will be too frightened to telephone through to Hans.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Bertram. ‘He would never lift a finger towards her.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But he is a gentleman of - I do not know what the right word is, but I fear he will consider divorce now. Their relationship has never been good. It was passable in the early days, but I think Richenda taking the children to London angered him greatly. That they have been placed in peril because of her actions may be the last straw.’

  ‘A man of set opinions,’ said Rory. ‘I agree. He is not one to cross and I fear you are right, Richenda has gone too far this time.’

  ‘But the scandal!’ said Bertram. ‘Divorce!’

  ‘It is not our concern. At least not for the present,’ I said as the lift came to a stop. ‘I suggest we walk quickly to the cab stand, but do not run. We do not want to attract even more attention to our actions.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Bertram. Then he swallowed. ‘I say, McLeod…’

  ‘I have the money for the fare, sir,’ said Rory in a distinctly annoyed tone.

  ‘I will pay you it all back,’ said Bertram, looking affronted.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ I said. I linked my arm through Bertram’s and strode out as much as my skirts allowed for the cab rank.

  This time, in the company of obvious gentlemen, and no longer spotted with blood, there w
as no difficulty in securing a cab. Our cab seemed to travel at an achingly low speed, but now we were working for Fitzroy again we were determined not to draw attention to ourselves. His instructions on that matter had always been firm and clear. Needless to say, we have often flouted them. But now we were to help him protect the King we were all most aware of our duty - or at least I was. I assumed from the sober expressions on the face of the others that they were feeling the same. I was all for telling Fitzroy to go hang himself, but to be asked to help ensure the safety of the sovereign was not something to be taken lightly. I also knew that however strong our determination to find the twins in London, without the help of Fitzroy and his shadowy cohorts, it would prove difficult if not impossible. If, as we thought, it was all a plan of Richard’s, then the chances were that Fitzroy had people watching him and his acquaintances. Given reason and opportunity, I hoped Fitzroy would surrender to his darkest nature when finally confronting Richard.

  It was with these less than charitable thoughts I occupied myself during the ride. The openness of the cab prevented us from discussing our plans and we sat in silence for the length of the journey. Our peace was only disturbed by the ringing bells of several police cars that passed us. They were not going in the direction of the hotel. But then, I reasoned, the metropolis is unlike the villages I grew up in, and a place of frequent infamy and crime. However, when we got close to Crystal Palace, the traffic slowed to an unendurable pace. Bertram leant his head out the window to demand an explanation, but he brought it back in without saying a word to the driver. ‘Traffic is almost at a standstill,’ he said. ‘Something must be up.’

  ‘Well, if you-know-who has been sighted,’ I said. Rory and Bertram both shushed me. ‘What?’ I exclaimed, ‘I could be talking about my mother-in-law.’

  ‘You do not have one yet,’ said Rory.

  ‘I am not going to have one,’ I said, looking at Bertram, but he appeared lost in thought rather than distraught over his mother.

  ‘I thought the whole point of this excursion,’ Bertram soon said, ‘was that it was to be kept secret.’

  ‘So did I,’ I said. ‘But plans do change. The whole thing appeared to have caught him on the hop.’

  For a moment Bertram looked scandalised until he worked out that the ‘him’ to whom I was referring was the spy and not the sovereign.

  ‘I think we should get out and walk,’ said Rory. ‘Even with Euphemia in skirts it will be quicker than the cab the way things stand.’

  I glanced out of the window. ‘We are very close,’ I said. ‘I do not object.’

  We signalled the cabbie to halt and Rory paid him. While he did so, Bertram whispered in my ear, ‘When has McLeod seen you without skirts?’

  I started. ‘I do not believe he ever has,’ I said in some bemusement.

  ‘It was a jolly funny thing for him to say,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Indeed,’ I said caustically, ‘I am still laughing. Honestly, when I think of the things we have on our plate at the moment -’

  ‘I am trying not to think about them,’ cut in Bertram. Rory joined us, and we walked quickly towards the common. We had clearly made the right choice as we passed multiple vehicles. The pavements were not crowded as most people stayed in their vehicles. We made good progress. Only as we neared the Palace did we see that all the police vehicles that had sped past us were lined up around the entrance. A cordon of policemen separated the public from the Palace. We could see more than one person on the other side debating with dark-clothed officials.

  ‘They are not letting anyone out,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Nor in,’ said Rory.

  ‘This could be a problem,’ I said. ‘What do you think Fitzroy would want us to do? We can hardly announce we are working for him.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Bertram, visibly brightening, ‘the meeting - the BIG meeting - is already underway, and we are not needed.’

  ‘But we still need him to help us find the twins,’ I said. ‘We have to get inside. You would think the police and diplomats would prefer as small a crowd as possible to deal with while they were on protection duty. It does not make sense for them to prevent people from leaving.’

  ‘Knowing our luck,’ said Rory, ‘probably something terrible has happened.’

  ‘Do not,’ I warned sternly, ‘say it. Do not even think of more terrible situations for us to contend with.’

  ‘Not like you to be superstitious, Euphemia,’ said Rory.

  It was at this point I saw Madame Arcana command the line of policemen to part as she sailed through. She came directly towards us. There was anguish on her face. We walked quickly, half ran, forward. When we met on the grass of the common, she spoke quietly and with great sorrow. ‘He is gone.’

  7They really do have the vilest smell.

  Chapter Ten

  The Vanishing Man

  ‘Who?’ said Bertram. ‘The King? Have we missed him?’

  ‘What do you mean by gone?’ said Rory at the same time.

  ‘Kidnapped, but I fear he is dead,’ said Madame Arcana.

  The world swayed around me. ‘Not again,’ I said and sunk down with a thud into an unladylike heap on the ground. Bertram hauled me to my feet with difficulty. I did not help. I was a dead weight and near to fainting.

  ‘Tell me we are not talking about the King,’ said Rory.

  ‘Good gracious no,’ said Madame Arcana. ‘The King is not due to attend the exhibition. Wait! Did Eric say he was coming?’

  Rory nodded. ‘To Euphemia. That is why he sent for us. Not to help with that aspect of it, but to watch over some German aristocracy. A Klaus Von something-or-another.’

  ‘Klaus Von Ritter,’ said Madame Arcana. ‘It was after his collapse and subsequent death that we noticed Eric’s absence. Clearly his murder was a diversion. Eric - Fitzroy - holds some of the key secrets of the kingdom, he will die rather than reveal them.’

  ‘The German is dead? Already?’ said Rory in disbelief.

  ‘A hand here, McLeod,’ said Bertram, who still struggling with me. I could hear them talking, but it seemed as if their voices came from a long way away. My thoughts, as I took in the situation, were likewise detached from emotion, as if they belonged to someone else. I had liked Klaus well enough, and I had been asked to protect him. It appeared I had failed, and I felt genuine regret - but for Fitzroy too to be dead was unthinkable. He was the only man I could think of who had a chance of defeating Richard and regaining the children.

  I heard Bertram say, ‘Euphemia is unwell.’

  Rory and Madame Arcana appeared to notice my predicament for the first time. Hands helped me to a park bench and I sat down. Someone propped me against an arm. For a moment I feared I had gone blind. When Madame Arcana spoke of Fitzroy’s death, my mind had gone back to the grisly search of those bodies recovered by the Carpathia I had been forced to endure, searching for his corpse the last time the spy was declared dead. That adventure had ended with him locked in a pigsty awaiting torture and then execution.

  I heard Madame Arcana say, ‘Oh yes, the poor dear went through a bit of hell last time he died, did she not?’

  ‘Forget Fitzroy,’ said Rory. ‘Richenda’s twin babies have been kidnapped and we need help from your resources to find them. We think Richard Stapleford is involved and the kidnappers are German. We were hoping Fitzroy had kept a watch on him and his associates.’

  ‘Almost certainly,’ said Madame Arcana.

  ‘At last some good fortune,’ said Bertram. ‘So, can we speak with them? Their information may be vital in saving the infants’ lives.’

  ‘Only Fitzroy would have known how to contact them,’ said Madame Arcana.

  ‘But is there not a back-up plan?’ said Bertram. ‘I mean, last time he died Euphemia got a letter.’

  I roused myself to speak. ‘Firstly, we do not know he is dead. I have heard nothing more than that he is missing.’ I clutched at this hope like a drowning man at a straw. ‘Secondly, you mentioned a mur
der as a distraction. If we can discover who committed this murder, we will be on our way to finding Fitzroy. I agree he is doubtless under interrogation, but it will not be the first time he has borne up under that. Time is of the essence. We should go back inside. Madame, can you arrange that?’ As I finished I got to my feet. I had to hold onto the bench to steady myself, but I did not collapse.

  Madame Arcana looked me up and down. ‘If you are sure. I suggest you take a brisk walk around the common first. No policeman would let a woman who appears to on the verge of fainting in to see a corpse.’

  Rory picked up on the implied suggestions. ‘Do you mean they do not think he was murdered?’

  ‘The ordinary police? I do not believe so. There will be other investigators on the site, and I imagine Edward has been sent for, but there is no one there I know. Fitzroy was very good at keeping us all compartmentalised.’ She saw Rory frown. ‘You can only give away the names of the people you actually know about,’ she explained.

  ‘Except for Fitzroy,’ said Bertram finally catching up. ‘He would know everyone. What a prize.’

  ‘Do we think this is the Germans?’ I asked.

  Madame Arcana spoke, ‘We cannot assume anything. The situation diplomatically between England and Germany is at an all-time low, but that is not to say everyone on the German side wishes for war. Nor, for that matter, that everyone on the English side wishes to prevent war. The exhibition may seem like a last dance at the ball for some, but nothing is decided. Until certain matters are set in motion there is always a way back.’

  ‘But if someone wanted war, killing a member of the delegation would be a step towards approaching it,’ I said. ‘Especially if it was an anti-war campaigner that was killed.’

  ‘Either could be made to work,’ said Madame Arcana in such a matter-of-fact voice that I began to see her in a new and harsher light. I had always suspected she worked with Fitzroy gathering and passing information under the guise of her séances. However, I had assumed he had recruited her as an asset, like us, but she spoke with the authority of someone far more invested in what Fitzroy often - obscenely, to my mind - called ‘The Great Game’.