The house was in the middle of a neat row of dwellings close to Sermon Lane that had replaced the tenements destroyed in the Great Fire. Jonathan remembered calling there earlier and being sent on his way by a plump maidservant. When Christopher knocked, the same woman came to the door. Short, round and flat-faced, she had the look of someone who would obey her employer's wishes to the letter.
'Good afternoon,' said Christopher, touching the brim of his hat. 'I wonder if I might see Mrs Lucy Cheever.'
'There's nobody of that name here,' said the woman. 'I told the constable that.'
'Then I think you must be mistaken.'
'No, sir. I know who my mistress is.'
'Is she at home at the moment?'
'Not to unexpected visitors, sir.'
'But I come as a friend,' explained Christopher. 'I must speak to her as a matter of urgency. I have news about her husband, Gabriel Cheever.'
'You must have confused this address with another one, sir.'
Christopher looked her in the eye. 'Are you not interested in what happened to your master?' he challenged. 'You must surely have missed him by now.'
The woman's lids flickered but she held her ground. Jonathan intervened.
'We need to report an accident,' he said.
'What sort of accident, sir?' she asked.
'A serious one.'
The maidservant was in a quandary. Ordered to keep everyone at bay, she wanted to know more details. She hesitated for a full minute. Eventually, she opted to obey her instructions. Deciding to send them on their way, she was on the point of closing the door with a token apology when someone came down the staircase behind her. It was a young woman in a pretty green dress that rustled as she moved.
'Did I hear mention of an accident?' she asked.
'Yes, Mrs Cheever,' said Christopher.
She blushed slightly. 'My name is Henley, sir.'
'Lucy Henley was your maiden name, I suspect. I am looking at Lucy Cheever now. Why deny it?' he went on before she could protest. 'There is no shame. We are here with important news of your husband. It was your sister-in-law, Susan, who gave me this address. You can surely trust her. I think that you should let us in, Mrs Cheever.'
Christopher's soft voice and considerate manner persuaded her. Nodding to the servant to let them in, Lucy Cheever led the way into the parlour. It was a small but cosy room with evidence of money and taste in the choice of furnishings. Christopher noted the small crucifix on the wall. The maidservant lingered protectively in the doorway but her mistress dismissed her with a glance. When Christopher had performed introductions, all three of them sat down. Lucy Cheever was a short, slender woman with a face of porcelain beauty. She looked so small, young and innocent that it was difficult to believe that she was actually married. There was a fragility about her that disturbed both men. Neither of them relished the notion of passing on the news about her husband, fearing that she would be unable to cope with it.
'We thought that you might have come forward,' said Jonathan quietly.
'Why?' she asked.
'To report that your husband was missing.'
'But I was not aware that Gabriel was missing, Mr Bale. I've been away for almost a week. I only returned to the house today.'
'Should your husband have been here?'
'Yes,' she said, 'but I assumed he had gone out somewhere.'
'Where was your servant?'
'Anna travelled with me.'
'So you did not realise that your husband had gone astray?'
'No, Mr Bale. I fully expect him to come back some time today.'
Jonathan exchanged a glance with Christopher then let him take over.
'I have some sad news, I fear,' said the latter. 'Your husband will not be returning to his home. Gabriel Cheever was found dead some nights ago.'
'Dead?' Lucy's face contorted with pain and her fists tightened. 'Gabriel is dead?'
'Mr Bale was there when the body was found.'
'Where?'
'The full details may distress you.'
'You spoke earlier of an accident.'
'It was no accident, Mrs Cheever,' he said gently.
Lucy recoiled as if from a blow to the face and Christopher feared that she might topple over, but she made a supreme effort to control herself. Holding back tears, she turned to Jonathan and spoke in a clear voice.
'Tell me what happened, Mr Bale.'
'It will not make pleasant listening,' he warned.
'I want to know,' she insisted.
'Mrs Cheever-'
'I'm his wife,' she said interrupting him. 'If Gabriel has been killed, I want to know how. Tell me, Mr Bale. I'm not as frail as I may look, I promise you.'
Jonathan swallowed hard then launched into his tale. Christopher was impressed with how tactful he was, giving a clear account of the discovery of Cheever's body without dwelling overmuch on how he was murdered. The constable obviously had long experience of breaking dreadful news to bereaved families. There was a sensitivity about him that Christopher had never noticed before. Lucy Cheever heard it all without a flicker, though her face was drawn and her hands remained bunched in her lap. When the account was over, she looked across at the crucifix before closing her eyes in a prayer. Christopher was struck by her composure. For a woman who looked so delicate, Lucy Cheever had the most remarkable strength of will. When she opened her eyes again, they could see the grief swirling in them.
'Would you like us to leave?' asked Christopher softly.
'No, Mr Redmayne.'
'Shall I call your servant?'
'I can do that for myself when I feel the need.'
'You're very brave, Mrs Cheever.'
'I want to know all that you can tell me,' she murmured.
'There is not much more to tell,' said Jonathan. 'A search is under way for the man responsible but we have so far unearthed no suspects.'
'Where is my husband's body?'
'Being held at the morgue until it can be reclaimed by his family.'
'I am Gabriel's family,' she said with sudden anger. 'Everyone else turned their back on him. Gabriel was a complete outcast.'
'Not to his younger sister,' Christopher reminded her.
She calmed instantly. 'No, that's true. Susan stood by him.'
'She took grave risks for his sake.'
'I know, Mr Redmayne, and I'm deeply grateful to her. I only hope that I will one day have the opportunity of thanking her in person.' She lifted her head and thrust out her chin. 'I should be consulted about the burial of my husband.'
'You have a legal and a moral right,' agreed Christopher. 'But, apart from Susan Cheever, the family are not even aware of your existence.'
'I know.'
'Your marriage was kept secret from them.'
'And from my own family,' she confessed, biting her lip. 'That is why I retained my maiden name. We have only been in Knightrider Street a short while. The few neighbours we have met think of us as Mr and Mrs Henley.'
'That explains why nobody in the street had heard of you,' observed Jonathan.
'Why the need for such deception?' asked Christopher.
She lowered her gaze. 'That's a private matter.'
'Your husband's family will have to be told the truth.'
'I accept that.'
'You are bound to meet them at the funeral.'
'Yes,' she sighed, looking up. 'But nothing would keep me away.'
The effort of holding in her grief was telling on Lucy Cheever. Her body was tense, her cheeks hollow, her eyes whirlpools of anguish. Wanting to ask her so many questions, Christopher felt that it was not the moment to do so.
'Perhaps we should leave now, Mrs Cheever,' he volunteered.
'Not yet,' she said.
'We have no wish to intrude.'
'I am still bearing up,' she said brushing a first tear from her cheek. 'And while I still can, I would like to help if it is at all possible.'
'It is,' he said. 'You knew your husb
and better than anyone.'
'I did Mr Redmayne. I knew about his vices as well as his virtues. But I loved him nonetheless. Gabriel was everything to me. No woman could have had a kinder or more tender husband.'
'Did he ever talk about his past?'
'Nothing was hidden from me, Mr Redmayne. He was very honest.'
'Did he mention the names of any enemies?'
'Not that I can recall.'
'So you know of nobody who might have wanted to kill him?'
'Gabriel talked of wild threats made against him by people who lost heavily at cards but they were words spoken in the heat of the moment. He took no notice of them.'
'And he forsook that life completely?'
'Yes,' she said firmly. 'That was a condition of our marriage.'
Lucy Cheever had none of the sophisticated charms of Celia Hemmings, still less anything of her social poise and worldliness. Yet she had qualities that the other could never possess. Lucy had an integrity that shone out of her and a loveliness that was all the more fetching because she was so unaware of it. She could no more be Gabriel Cheever's mistress than Celia Hemmings could be his wife. The two women represented different sides of his character. Christopher understood the choice he had finally made.
'You told us that you had been away,' he said.
'I was visiting my mother, Mr Redmayne.'
'Was your husband left here alone?'
'Yes,' she confirmed. 'Anna came with me. Gabriel encouraged that. He wanted to work on a play he was writing and felt that he could do it best when he had no distractions.'
'I understand that he wrote poetry as well?'
A smile touched her lips. 'Oh, yes. He wrote wonderful poems.'
'So,' continued Christopher, 'while you were away, your husband would have spent most of his time here?'
'All of it, probably. Unless he went out to dine.'
'No friends were likely to call?'
Her voice sharpened. 'He left that world behind him, Mr Redmayne.'
'Of course. I'm sorry.'
'When you returned here,' said Jonathan, sitting forward, 'did you see any signs of a struggle having taken place in the house?'
'None, Mr Bale,' she said.
'Everything was in its place?'
'Yes.'
'No hint of forced entry?'
'None at all.' She paused. 'Although…'
'Yes?' he prompted.
'It was odd' she recalled. 'Very odd. When we got back today, I felt that something had been stolen from the house. Anna sensed it as well. But we must have been mistaken,' she said with a shrug. 'We could not find that anything was missing.'
Jonathan looked at Christopher before turning back to her again.
'How hard did you search?' he asked.
The wrangling went on throughout much of the day. Sir Julius Cheever felt that he was being torn apart. Stuck with a son-in-law he despised in a house that he loathed he was forced to acknowledge a son who had betrayed everything for which he stood. Part of him wanted to turn away from the whole depressing business but another part of him urged a degree of reconciliation. When all was said and done, Gabriel was his own flesh and blood. As he struggled to make up his mind, he was not aided by the comments of his elder daughter.
'There is no need for you to go, Father,' Brilliana told him.
'Somebody must,' he said.
'Let me send Lancelot. He can identify the body.'
'Me?' said her husband uneasily. 'Well, yes, my dear. If you wish.'
'I do wish.'
'Sir Julius?'
'No,' said the old man contemptuously. 'The last person who should do this is you, Lancelot. You hardly knew Gabriel. It's a ludicrous suggestion.'
Brilliana bridled. 'I was only trying to spare you, Father.'
'Perhaps I should go with you, Sir Julius,' offered Serle.
'Out of the question,' said Sir Julius hastily. 'Whatever else happens, you will not be involved. This is a family matter.' •
'Lancelot is part of the family now,' argued Brilliana.
'He's not a Cheever,' said Susan reasonably. 'It's unfair to force this upon him.'
'I'm not forcing anything on anybody.'
'You are, Brilliana.'
'Well, someone has to make a decision,' retorted her sister, taking a more aggressive stance. 'Nobody else seems capable of doing so.'
'I think that we should leave it to Sir Julius, my dear,' said her husband.
'We'll be here until Doomsday if we do that.'
'Brilliana!' Susan rebuked her.
'And I won't hear any criticism from you, Susan,' warned Brilliana. 'All that you've done is sit there and mope.'
'For heaven's sake - our brother is dead!'
'I'm well aware of that.'
'Then try to show some pity,' urged Susan.
'I need no lessons in behaviour from you,' snapped her sister.
Serle touched her arm. 'There's no reason to get upset about it, Brilliana.'
'Leave me alone.'
'We must discuss this calmly, my dear.'
She rounded on him. 'Oh, be quiet, Lancelot!'
'Yes,' said Sir Julius vehemently. 'That's the one thing Brilliana has said that I fully endorse. You've no useful comment to make in this debate, Lancelot, so I beg of you to make none at all.'
Serle was wounded. 'If you say so, Sir Julius.'
'I do. This bickering is driving me mad. I need peace and quiet.'
They were still seated round the table in the dining room. The meal had long since been over but they stayed in the room, locked in argument and unwilling to move. Susan Cheever tried to say as little as possible but some of her sister's comments could not go unchallenged. Anxious to help, Serle only managed to add further confusion. Sir Julius shuttled between a brooding silence and bursts of anger. The situation had exposed the deep divisions within the family and that made him squirm. He was uncomfortably reminded of his wife's more tolerant attitude towards their son. She had died after Gabriel left home for good but she usually took his side in his disputes with his father. Sir Julius knew what she would advise in the circumstances, and her counsel weighed heavily with him.
Susan took the initiative. 'Father should go,' she said, 'and I'll go with him.'
Brilliana was scornful. 'You, Susan?'
'Gabriel was my brother.'
'He was my brother as well, but that does not mean to say I wish to see him laid out on a slab.' She gave a shiver. 'The very notion is revolting.'
'Nobody will subject you to that, my dear,' promised Serle.
'I should hope not.'
'Father will need company on the journey,' said Susan.
'Lancelot can provide it.'
'He might prefer me alongside him.'
'I'd prefer anyone but Lancelot,' said Sir Julius with asperity. 'But not you, Susan. You stay here. This is not woman's work. I appreciate your offer but this is something that falls to me and I'll not shirk it. Besides,' he added hauling himself to his feet, 'it's not merely a question of identifying Gabriel. I want to know who killed him and why. Since I have to go into the city, I'll call on Redmayne.'
'What business is this of his?' asked Brilliana.
'He put himself out to bring us the news.'
'That may be so, Father, but we do not want him poking his nose into our affairs.'
'Mr Redmayne has gone to great lengths to help us,' said Susan with a fervour that took her sister by surprise. 'You heard what he said. He is taking part in the search for Gabriel's killer. In other words, he is putting himself in danger on our behalf. If you cannot be grateful to him, at least do not be so critical.'
Brilliana was effectively silenced for once. Her father savoured the moment.
'I've changed my mind, Susan,' he said at length. 'Perhaps you should come with me, after all.'
Henry Redmayne was so stunned by the news that he flopped back down into a chair. 'Gabriel Cheever had a wife?' he said incredulously.
'An e
xtremely attractive one, Henry.'
'This must be some kind of jest.'
'It is not,' said Christopher. 'I can assure you.'
'Gabriel married? Never,' insisted Henry. 'I'd sooner believe that the King had taken a vow of chastity or that our own father shares his bed with two naked women and a long-tailed monkey. It's completely against his nature.'
'Perhaps that is why he kept it so secret.'
'But what could have led to such folly?'
'It was no folly. He somehow met the young lady who is now his widow. Lucy Cheever is the kind of person who would inspire any man to change for the better.'
'Why bother with a wife when he could have had almost any woman he wanted?'
Christopher smiled. 'One day you may learn the answer to that question yourself.'
'Pah!'
They were in the hall at the house in Bedford Street. Christopher had arrived as his brother was about to venture out. He was pleased that Henry had plucked up enough courage to resume his social life. It signalled a welcome return of his confidence. Henry was still apprehensive, but the fact that Sir Marcus Kemp was also a victim of blackmail had somehow rallied him. His was now a shared pain and that made it easier to bear.
'Say nothing of this to your friends,' suggested Christopher.
'They would not believe me if I did.'
'I agreed to protect Lucy Cheever's secret. She has reasons of her own why the truth should not spread far and wide. We must respect her wishes.'
'Gabriel was a deeper man than I suspected.'
'Did you know he had literary aspirations?'
'No, Christopher.'
'Miss Hemmings confided as much to me. His wife says that he was a talented poet with ambitions to write plays as well. She said that he was a dedicated author.'
Henry shook his head in wonder. 'Getting married? Scribbling away in secret? Forsaking his old friends and haunts? No,' he said, getting up, 'this is not the Gabriel Cheever that the rest of us knew.'
'I fancy there may be more surprises yet before we finish.'
'I hope not, Christopher. I've had rather too many surprises already.'
'Where are you going now?'
The Repentant Rake cr-3 Page 11
