Rose Campion and the Curse of the Doomstone

by Lyn Gardner

  “Tell me about coming back to England,” said Rose.

  “News reached us that the Duchess had been banged up in Holloway for life. Papa decided that we should return home. The plan was to perform in England for a short while and then come here to Southend and live quietly. He negotiated a share in the Gandini ice cream shop in preparation for that time – the Gandinis are getting elderly and need help. He wanted me to stay in Southend as soon as we returned. He was very cautious, concerned that if any of the Duchess’s old cronies were looking for us, they would be looking for a father and daughter together. But I didn’t like being here on my own. It’s too isolated. And then one night he was performing at a suburban hall, when who should turn up like a bad penny?”

  “Lydia,” breathed Rose.

  Amy nodded. “Yes, on the arm of Stratford-Mark. She returned alone the next day. My father was thrilled. He was a clever man, but always a fool when it came to Lydia. He thought that this was his second chance with her, and she gave him every indication that was the case. She’s a sly one, Lydia. She knows how to flatter a man.”

  Rose suddenly thought about Tobias Fraggles floating sightless in the Thames with a slit throat. Lydia must have charmed him into lying in court and then dispatched him when he had served his purpose.

  “When Lydia proposed I work for her as a dresser, Papa jumped at the idea. It kept both Lydia and me close to him, but in my case not close enough that it might attract attention. What he didn’t know was that it was all part of Lydia’s plan to steal the Doomstone from around her own neck. She was in league with Stratford-Mark – he has terrible debts and would stoop to anything to save his theatre. They made an agreement. Stratford-Mark had the connections to provide the opportunity for Lydia to wear the diamond, and the means for its disposal if Lydia would do the deed. Lydia was skilled at conjuring, and she knew that a magic act, during which the audience’s attention is diverted, would be the perfect opportunity for her to steal the Star of the Sea. Better still, who would ever imagine that Lydia had stolen the diamond from around her own neck? It could have been taken at the Alhambra or somewhere else, but it was at Campion’s. It was Lydia who encouraged my father to approach Campion’s. She said that she had heard that it was small and friendly and that it might suit my father, particularly because of his issues with stage fright, and he thought that it wasn’t high profile enough to attract attention from the police or any of the Duchess’s former cronies.

  “Of course, on the night the Doomstone went missing, my father and I realised that Lydia’s suggestion of Campion’s had all been a set-up. She and Stratford-Mark knew of Edward’s strong connection with the place and used it to their advantage, to make it seem as if the visit there was utterly unplanned and spontaneous.”

  Rose frowned. “So you and your father had nothing to do with the disappearance of the Doomstone?”

  “Of course not,” said Amy indignantly. “Papa had turned his back forever on a life of crime. He wouldn’t have gone back to it, not even for Lydia. He was furious when he realised what she had done, incandescent with rage. He felt that he had been a dupe and that she had endangered him and me too. He had me change lodgings immediately, just in case.”

  “So why didn’t he tell the police?”

  Amy shrugged. “Two reasons. He still loved Lydia too much to put her behind bars for life, and he was worried about his own situation. Here in England he not only feared the possible threat of the Duchess, but also the much more substantial threat of the police. He had done some things in his past of which he was very ashamed. Unlike the Duchess, he never killed anybody but he had robbed and conned. He would still be wanted for those crimes. The second the Doomstone went missing he knew that Lydia was the only person who could possibly be responsible, but when it turned out that Inspector Cliff was present at Campion’s on that night he became worried. He thought it less likely that the inspector knew in advance about Lydia and Stratford-Mark’s plot to steal the Doomstone, and far more probable that the inspector was on his trail, having made a connection between Paul Bray and Gandini. He was furious with Lydia for putting his position in such jeopardy. But he decided that staying put was the safest option. If he fled it would look like guilt, and he’d be on the run for the rest of his life, and if arrested he’d get done for stealing the Doomstone on top of everything else. And if he told the inspector that he knew that Lydia had stolen the Doomstone from around her own neck, he’d be betraying the woman he still loved.

  “It was an impossible position and of course Lydia played on it, insisting that her relationship with Edward was simply faked for the purpose of stealing the Doomstone, and hinting that my father was the great love of her life. As soon as all the fuss died down, she claimed that she would be returning to his arms. Of course, I could see from spending time with Lydia and Edward every day that Papa was a fool to believe a word, but he was blindsided by love. He didn’t like it when I told him he was being a dupe again.

  “So when the heat was on and it looked as if the inspector might be about to make an arrest, he came up with the plan for me to fake my own death. He thought that if everyone believed that I was the culprit, and the Doomstone was at the bottom of the river, the inspector would close the investigation – perhaps even lose interest in my father. Of course, Lydia was thrilled by the plan – so thrilled that she told my father she regretted her terrible mistake in stealing the Doomstone, and promised him that as soon as the fuss faded away she would return to live with him in Southend.

  “I knew that would never happen. Can you imagine Lydia living here? In any case, she’s not just in love with Edward – it’s more like an obsession. I don’t know what happened next, but I assume my father must have finally realised, or been told by somebody, that Lydia was lying to him, and confronted her in some fashion, and so she killed him and framed Effie.

  “As soon as I heard that he’d been killed, I knew that Lydia would come looking for me next. That’s why I went to the court, in the hope that I’d be able to find Thomas or Edward and confess all. I saw you outside and hoped you’d help. I was anxious how you’d react because you thought I was dead. But there was no choice. Then, as I approached you, I saw Lydia with Edward in the distance looming from the other crowd. It was too risky. So I scribbled the note and stuffed it in your pocket.”

  Rose nodded. It was all falling into place. Effie had casually told Gandini just before the show about Lydia and Edward’s forthcoming nuptials, and Rose hadn’t misheard when she had thought that she had heard Gandini say softly to Lydia, “I know. I’ll stop it,” during the bullet trick. Those words had sealed his fate. Lydia would know that the only way she could ensure his silence was to kill him.

  “So,” said Rose excitedly. “Lydia killed Gandini, setting it up to make it look as if Effie was responsible with the pearl bullet and the faked note. Then, just to make sure that Effie took the blame, she got Tobias to testify against Effie and killed him to ensure his silence. You’ve good reason to be worried that Lydia will come for you next.”

  “Yes,” said a voice behind them. “She does. And sadly so do you.”

  They spun round. Lydia was standing behind them, pointing a pistol. She looked very pale and unusually dishevelled. She must have entered the house through the back door in the scullery, and the noise of the storm meant that they hadn’t heard her. “It’s such a pity that I can’t risk you telling anyone else.”

  30

  “That should do the job,” said Lydia calmly, as she secured the final knot that bound both girls together around the waist. She stood back and once again rubbed her hands together in a nervous gesture, as if trying to clean them of a stain. They were upstairs in the tiny back bedroom of the cottage. Rose and Amy had their hands and feet tied together. Lydia had produced twine from her bag and ordered Amy at gunpoint to bind Rose’s hands and feet, and when Amy had deliberately made a hash of it, Lydia had held the pistol to Amy’s head with such a wild look in her eye that Rose had said
quietly, “Do it properly, Amy.”

  Amy obliged, tying the knots tightly. Once Rose was immobilised on the floor, Lydia had picked up a vase and smashed it over Amy’s head, stunning the girl so that she could quickly secure her hands and feet. Now the two girls were lying side by side on the bed, each tied to one of the bedposts at the top. Lydia had closed the small window in the bedroom and the shutters too. Even so, the noise from the thunderstorm outside was still deafening. The rain was hitting the roof tiles like bullets, every clap of thunder sounding like an explosion. The storm was clearly right overhead.

  “Lydia,” said Rose urgently. “You don’t have to do this. Just let us go. We won’t tell anyone. You could just disappear.”

  “Disappear?” said Lydia, sounding surprised. “I have no intention of disappearing on my wedding day. I will be at the church to marry Edward in a few hours, as arranged. I’m doing all this for him. We love each other, and nothing must ever get in the way of that. My life changed the moment I set eyes on Edward. That night will be forever engraved upon my heart.

  “Gandini had told me he would be performing at Campion’s that week, and I immediately realised that it was the perfect cover for me to steal the Doomstone. All Stratford-Mark had to do was introduce me to Edward after the first night of Hamlet. It was perfect. I was supposed to feign an interest in Edward. In front of a whole roomful of witnesses, the spur-of-the-moment decision to go to Campion’s would be made. Once there, I would steal the diamond under cover of Gandini’s performance, and keep it until I could pass it on to Stratford-Mark, who would hide it at the theatre until it was safe to dispose of it. I was to get half of the proceeds. Stratford-Mark could clear his debts and be set up for life. But what I hadn’t calculated was that I would fall in love with Edward. As soon as I saw him I was lost. Quite lost. Even if he had been a pauper I would have followed him to the ends of the earth. My heart was no longer my own. It was his.”

  She looked at Amy sorrowfully.

  “Just as your poor father couldn’t escape his past, I couldn’t stop what I had put in motion. The ridiculous thing is that the moment I met Edward there was no longer any need for me to commit the theft. Love, wealth and position were all within my grasp. As soon as I had stolen the Doomstone I regretted it deeply – particularly when it so quickly became apparent to me that Edward felt as passionately about me as I felt about him. I’d have done anything to turn back the clock. The only thing that now mattered was our happiness together, and of course the investigation into the Doomstone’s disappearance kept threatening that. I wish I had never touched the silly stone. Meeting Edward was my redemption. Alas it came too late.”

  Once again she was rubbing her hands together in an agitated fashion.

  “I knew that I could count on your father’s love to keep silent about my involvement, as long as he thought that I might return to him. So I wanted to keep my forthcoming marriage to Edward a secret as long as possible. I doubted that even his love would extend to my marrying another man, or that he would countenance bigamy, so although I really didn’t wish him any harm, I knew that I would have to deal with him sooner rather than later. It became apparent on the evening of the bullet trick that the moment had come, and that the circumstances favoured me: by implicating Effie, I could escape all suspicion. Gandini helped with his final fateful words. To make quite sure of Effie’s conviction I got Tobias Fraggles to testify, and then of course I had to deal with him. And as soon as I spotted you outside the court, Amy, I knew I would have to deal with you too. And now with you too, Rose. I’ve no choice. I’m really very sorry.”

  She looked genuinely sad.

  “Over the last few days I’ve begun to feel as if the Doomstone has cursed me in a very particular way.” She looked distant for a moment and whispered, “The blood. There has been so much blood.” She rubbed her hands together. “These hands will never be clean.” She smiled sorrowfully and said, “Forgive me, girls. I really am very sorry.”

  Then she removed the key from the door and left the room, shutting the door behind her. They heard the key turn in the lock and Lydia’s footsteps on the stairs. A few moments later, in a lull in the storm, the front door banged. The girls looked at each other, puzzled. They had both thought that Lydia was going to shoot them before she left.

  “Come on,” said Rose. “Let’s get these knots undone. Try using your teeth.” For a few minutes they struggled in silence, making very little headway.

  Then Rose stopped and sniffed. The smell was unmistakeable. Fire! Lydia had set the cottage on fire. Smoke began to creep under the door of the bedroom, a silent, deadly puddle. Rose’s mind was racing. Their deaths would most likely look like an accident, the cottage struck by lightning and burned to the ground with them in it. There was a roll of thunder from outside. The smoke was getting thicker. There was a crackle from the flames licking at the door. Lydia had set the fire burning on the staircase, so even if they had succeeded in breaking their bonds they would be trapped. Rose twisted on the bed. The floorboards of the bedroom seemed to be creaking as if in pain. It was getting unbearably hot. Flames were dancing across the floor, moving closer to the bed. A fallen bolster caught a flame with a popping sound. Amy’s eyes were glazed with fear. There was a roar of flame as the door caved in and the girls were hit by a wave of heat, and could see the inferno moving towards them like a wall. Amy screamed. There was a clap of thunder and under it, Rose heard the smashing of glass and the sound of an axe on wood. There was a splintering, cracking noise and suddenly the shutters burst open. Billy Proctor appeared, illuminated by lightning so it seemed as if the outline of his body was lit up and in shock. He knocked the rest of the glass out of the window and then clambered through into the room. He quickly cut the girls loose from the bedpost with the axe, untied Rose’s hands and feet, and together they untied Amy. A river of flame was running around the edge of the room, tonguing the chest of drawers, whose white paint was melting. As soon as the last knot was untied, Billy pushed them to the window, all three coughing and spluttering. Rose’s throat felt as if it were on fire; her eyes watered and stung. One by one they began to climb down the rickety ladder. Billy followed last, and had just reached the bottom when there was a terrible sound, as if the entire cottage was groaning to itself.

  “Run!” he shouted, the first word that anyone had uttered since his miraculous appearance at the window. They dashed to the end of the garden and turned back towards the cottage as a fork of lightning illuminated the roof. There was a thunderclap so mighty that it made their ears hurt, and then the entire building seemed to shriek in agony, as it lurched and started to fall in upon itself.

  “Lucky escape,” said Billy drily, surveying the inferno. He gave Amy a long look. “Looks like you’ve got a knack of cheating death. Like a cat with nine lives.”

  “Thanks for the rescue,” said Rose, wiping dirt and smoke out of her eyes. “But we’re in a bit of a hurry. We need to get to the station. We’ve got a wedding to stop.”

  “Yes, we need to hurry. I saw Lydia heading across the heath for the station,” said Billy. “I was going to go after her, when I saw the smoke and thought I’d better investigate. I’m glad I did. I don’t know how it all fits together, but would I be right in assuming that Amy here is Amelia, daughter of Paul Bray, otherwise known as the magician Gandini, and that it was Lydia who tried to murder you?”

  Rose and Amy nodded. “There’s no time to waste explaining now. We’ll tell all when we’re on the London train,” said Rose, setting off at a run. Billy nodded his agreement. “Just one question,” added Rose as she sprinted. “What are you doing in Southend, and who are you? If there’s one thing I’m quite certain of it’s that you are definitely not a barman by trade.”

  Billy grinned. “I kept waiting for you to call me out, Rose. It was obvious you had your suspicions about me from the start. And you were right. Until I got the job at Campion’s I’d never been behind a bar in my life. I’m a policeman. I’m Inspector
Cliff’s assistant. I was sent to Campion’s to keep an eye on the magician Gandini, who we had our suspicions was really Paul Bray, the Gentleman Dipper. But then the Doomstone went missing and that completely changed the nature of the investigation.”

  Rose recalled the times she had seen Billy outside Holloway Prison. Julia Devonish had been telling the truth when she said that Billy had been seeing the Duchess. She must have known he was a policeman planted at Campion’s.

  They hurried on, lashed by rain and at the mercy of the wind, but they arrived at the station just in time to see the train steaming out. There wasn’t another one for half an hour.

  “I’ll telegraph to the Yard and get Inspector Cliff and his officers to meet the train and arrest Lydia for your attempted murder,” said Billy.

  But when he spoke to the stationmaster he was told that the storm had brought down the lines and that wouldn’t be possible. There was nothing to do but wait for the eight o’clock train.

  “If the train makes it here,” said Billy darkly.

  “It’s got to come,” said Rose desperately, “or Edward will end up married to a murderess.”

  “You’d better tell me everything you know while we wait,” said Billy.

  “How did you know to come to Southend?”

  “You have Aurora to thank for that. She turned up at Scotland Yard, asking for the inspector. He had been at the Pall Mall. Stratford-Mark had been found dead there. Looked like a suicide. There was even a note.” He shook his head. “But the inspector had his doubts.”

  “Lydia’s doing,” said Amy bitterly. “Another one of her victims.”

  Billy nodded. “Just as you two would have been if Aurora hadn’t decided to return to the Yard to check that you had spoken to the inspector as promised. She got there just as he arrived back. The man at the desk told us that somebody fitting your description had been asking for the inspector, and had left when told he was out. Aurora guessed you had gone to Southend in search of Amy, and told us all about the postcard and what had happened outside the court. The inspector had never quite believed that Amy was dead, so he dispatched me. I looked for you on the train.”