by Joan Smith
“You’ll have to advance me some blunt, dear boy. I’m as poor as a church mouse.”
“What of Chamfreys?” While he spoke, his mind was busy with deductions. So she was having trouble getting monies from her escorts!
“He pays in things,” she explained. “A lovely diamond bracelet this trip. I have half a dozen of them. I was hoping for a necklace, but it seems my price is a bracelet. I shouldn’t have told you so, should I?”
“Very unwise.”
“Are we to hear an interesting announcement this evening, Belami? An odd time you chose for a liaison in Paris, when your betrothal is about to be made in public. Can’t say I blame you,” she added with a look across the room to Deirdre, who had returned to respectable behavior when she noticed that Belami wasn’t looking at her.
Belami’s hands clenched into fists, involuntarily. He hardly knew why, but he knew he was angry at the slur on Deirdre’s attractiveness. He took a hasty glance across the room and was struck at how well she looked this evening. Her cheeks wore the soft pink flush of a sea shell. Her eyes glowed with the gleam of youth, and on top of it, she looked elegantly respectable. In comparison, Lennie looked like a well-worn and slightly gaudy silk rose. “There will be no announcement,” he said with bored indifference.
“I see! I’m catching you on the rebound, am I? Did she turn you off, or was it la duchesse?”
“We agreed to disagree.”
“Pity. It would have been an interesting match, to see whether you debauched the child or she reformed you. I think you would have won. See, she’s already learned how to flirt. A vast improvement, if I may say so.”
Looking toward the corner, Belami watched as Deirdre resumed her flirtation. She hit Bidwell’s hand with her fan, in a good imitation of Lenore. Anger surged through him again, causing him to ignore Lenore’s question. She spoke on again.
“How does the case go on?”
“Superbly. I shall be announcing the solution shortly.”
“Then we’ll see her casting her wiles in earnest, I think,” she said with a speculative look at Bidwell.
“You know about her and Bidwell, then?” he ventured, and listened sharply for her answer.
“I surmised. Truth to tell, I didn’t suspect it before this visit. Does the duchess approve?”
“She won’t, after I have solved the case,” he said, to gauge how she reacted to hints of knavery on Bidwell’s part.
“Oho, so that’s the culprit! I can’t say I’m surprised. Who else could it be, when all’s said and done? I’ll tell you this, Dick: he was silent as a mouse all the time Chamfreys and I were—were in the next room,” she said with a nervous look around her. “And when he called us, I noticed a few droplets of water on his hair. Melted snow, it must have been. I didn’t mention it to him.
“Nor to me either, Lennie. Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Was anyone with him in the next room?”
“I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”
“Because two glasses were broken.”
“No, there was only one smashing sound,” she said, surprised. “You must be mistaken.”
“You were preoccupied. You might have missed one.”
“Chamfreys is not all that distracting. The noise alerted me that it was time to scramble into my gown and return downstairs. And by the by, it was discreet of you to have found Chamfrey’s watch fob in the ballroom, and not in my bed, where he lost it. I noticed he wore it when we went upstairs. When did you retrieve it?”
“That same night, while you were at dinner.”
“I’m glad you did. I feared Bidwell had pocketed it. He was in my room when we came out. He’d been down and heard about the robbery, and came darting up to tell us. It occurred to me Chamfreys might have dropped it in my dressing room. It means a great deal to him. We’d been on our hands and knees searching the floor for it.”
Deirdre’s flirtation across the room was not observed. Belami had gotten new nuggets of information and was busy gnawing at them. If only one glass was smashed, what was the other bit of glass ground into the grate? Lennie was awake on all suits; he didn’t think she was mistaken about that. Or about Bidwell’s wet hair either. And why had Bidwell returned to her room to tell them of the robbery? Wouldn’t it be more natural to remain below, where excitement and gossip must have been rampant? So why had he really returned? Had he smashed the other glass then? Lennie denied this at once. No, no, they had all run down together at once.
His musings were interrupted by Snippe’s appearance at the doorway to announce, in injured accents, that dinner was served. Belami’s chore, as host, was to lend the duchess his arm. On his way to her side he said softly to Pronto, “I’m going to make an announcement after dinner. When I do, I want you to regard Deirdre and Bidwell. Note their expressions closely.”
“Eh? What announcement?”
“You’ll soon know. Just do as I ask. I’ve seated you beside Deirdre and across from Bidwell.”
Lady Belami usually followed her son’s advice for the simple reason that it saved her thinking for herself. He had ordered her to throw a lavish dinner and dress up grandly, and she had done it. Her cook had been instructed to prepare an elaborate dinner of two courses and two removes, with champagne served throughout the meal. The turbot in lobster sauce was perhaps not so tasty as her Philippe usually made it, but the champagne did much to cover Philippe’s lapse. Le jambon à la broche was a fine success. The troublesome duchess didn’t even try it, but ate a deal of the ragout, which was kinder to her loose teeth. The fowl, too, she managed to masticate without unhinging any of her perilously anchored molars. Le charlotte a l’americain was a hit with all the ladies.
When the meal was finally finished, Belami caught Pronto’s eye, nodded, and rose to his feet. He instructed the footmen to refill the glasses and said simply, “I have an announcement to make. It is brief and will, I am sure, make everyone at the table happy.” He looked at Deirdre, whose eyes were wide with interest. He was going to announce the betrothal after all, she thought. Her first spontaneous reaction was of surprised, confused delight, but she soon realized she had to be incensed at this cavalier flouting of her wishes. She glared at her aunt, who had obviously conspired with Belami in the matter, but the only expression that showed on her aunt’s face was rampant curiosity. Deirdre was too excited to notice Pronto sitting with his arms folded, his protruding eyes narrowed to slits, darting from herself to Bidwell like the pendulum of a metronome, while a frown of the most severe concentration creased his brow.
Pronto stared away as he had been told, but all he saw was that Deirdre had turned a shade paler. When the first babble of excitement had settled down, Belami lifted his glass.
“I would ask you all to join me in drinking a toast to the recovery of the duchess’s diamond.” As he finished speaking, his darts flickered from the duchess to Deirdre, then rapidly to Bidwell. He lifted his glass and drank, still observing the effect of his announcement on his guests. He was thrown into confusion by what he saw. Firstly and most importantly, Bidwell’s lips split wide in a grin. Deirdre looked only surprised, and the duchess was in a state of agitated irritation. All these reactions were wrong, but he had very little time to consider any of them. Within seconds, his mother emitted a veritable squeal of delight, and hopped up from the table to express her rapture.
“Dickie, you’re wonderful! You’ve done it again. Now you won’t have to marr— Oh, isn’t it wonderful, Your Grace?”
The duchess glared, but only Bertie observed this killing glance. The rest of the table had their attention directed to Herr Bessler, whose glass had clattered to the table, throwing champagne in all directions. Looking toward him, Deirdre noticed his quick, worried look to Bidwell, whose smile had spread even wider.
“That is good news!” Bidwell exclaimed. “I’ll drink to that.” He took a deep quaff of his wine, and those who had recovered their wits at all did likewise.
&n
bsp; There was a clamorous demand for Belami to produce the necklace. He explained that it had been dismantled, and produced only the chain and hook.
“But where is my diamond? I want to see my diamond,” the duchess insisted, still angry.
“It is in my vault, Your Grace. I could not risk having it stolen again,” Belami explained. “I’ll return it to you this evening or, if you prefer, keep it in my safe till you are prepared to leave.”
“I’ll see it at least, if you please,” she told him, pushing herself up from her chair, using her arms for levers, in a way that jiggled her whole side of the table. She read the reluctance on Belami’s face and thought she had deciphered his reason. He was afraid someone would follow them, and it was unwise to announce publicly the location of his safe. Very cautious of him.
“A little later perhaps, Your Grace?” he asked.
“Very well,” she agreed, and plopped back into her chair to finish her champagne.
There were many requests to hear the story of the discovery, and of course to learn the identity of the perpetrator, all of which Belami modestly declined to discuss “at this time,” as he expressed it. The inventive among them took it for civility in allowing the criminal the luxury of a private accusation, but in truth there was nothing to tell. Dick had no idea where the diamond was, and only suspicions as to who had stolen it.
He hoped his announcement would reveal the thief. There should have been a shocked, trembling, white-faced, wild-eyed man in that room, and that man should have been Bidwell. And what did he see? Bidwell grinning like a monkey. Deirdre’s eyes should have flown to Bidwell in horror. The demmed duchess should have been delighted, though he soon deduced it was a simple preference for his thirty thousand pounds over her poorly cut diamond that accounted for her chagrin. Bessler should not have dropped his glass in amazement, and Bertie should not have blurted out that now he wouldn’t have to marry Deirdre. Nothing had gone as planned, and he was left looking a complete idiot, with a deal of explaining to do to Charney.
The ladies soon left the gentlemen to their port, and Belami remained behind to see what he could learn from the men. He learned that Bidwell was in a state of high amusement, that Bessler had overcome whatever shock he had initially experienced, and that was about all he discovered. To distract attention from his imaginary recovery of the diamond, he regaled his guests with the tale of finding the outfit and pistol up the flue, and the rope trick used to descend from the floor above.
“The diamond is in good shape, is it?” Chamfreys asked. “It didn’t get marred in the dismantling?” When Belami assured him it was in perfect condition, he said, “By Jove, you are clever, Belami. As clever as people say.”
“Hear, hear,” Bidwell agreed boisterously. “In perfect condition, you say? That is good news, is it not, Herr Bessler?”
“A diamond would not easily become marred,” Bessler pointed out. “It is of an extremely hard consistency.
“As a matter of fact, a diamond is more easily destroyed than people often think,” Belami said, eager to discuss anything other than how he had solved the crime. “A good stone is often destroyed in the cutting. It can even be demolished by accident after it is cut, if something heavy should fall on it. They’re not indestructible by any means.”
Chamfreys was at his elbow, trying to get him aside for a private word. With high hopes, Belami went with him, but he was disappointed.
“I’ll tell you who could use a bit of your help, my lad, is Prinney. He’s in the devil of a bind. It happened just before we left town. I’ve only heard rumors, mind, but Devonshire told me in the strictest confidence that he’s being blackmailed. Don’t know what it’s all about, but you could do yourself some good if you’d straighten it out for him. There’d be an earlship in it for you, maybe even a jump up to a marquis. Shouldn’t think he’d go as high as a dukedom. The timing won’t suit you, with Paris in the offing, but Lennie is reasonable. She’d postpone the tryst.”
In the midst of his annoyance with Lenore for having already boasted to Chamfreys of her new conquest, Belami felt some interest in the story of Prinney’s problem. It was not the lure of a higher title that interested him, nor even the wish to help his Prince, but purely the intellectual curiosity, to get at another case.
“I’ll look into it as soon as we can get out of here,” he told Chamfreys.
Bidwell, who had been loitering nearby with his ears pricked, came forward in time to hear his last remark. “When do you think that will be, old chap? Any news on the condition of the roads?”
“Why, you make me fear I’m doing a poor job of entertaining you, Bidwell. What’s the rush?” Belami asked with a bold stare.
“I’m promised to accompany Cookson’s daughter to a skating party day after tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the lady,” he replied.
“Especially when her papa is the king of brewers,” Belami replied, and felt ashamed of himself. It was ill-bred to cast aspersions on one’s invited guests. Just why Bertie had seen fit to invite the hedgebird was beside the point. Probably had known his mama. Bertie knew everyone’s mama.
He was so engrossed in pondering Bidwell’s smile that he didn’t take into account the real gist of Bidwell’s statement for forty seconds. If it were true he was dangling after Cookson’s well-dowered daughter, then he and Deirdre were nothing to each other. All his conversations had confirmed the lack of interest. Such a uniformity of opinion caused him to deduce he had been mistaken. It was a blow to his powers of reasoning, but one that caused him more relief than pain.
Chapter 10
When it was polite to get away from the taking of port, Belami and Pronto joined the ladies. Dick looked about for the duchess, dreading to confess his stunt, and was pleasantly surprised to learn that she had gone upstairs. Deirdre caught his eye, and beckoned him with a glance.
“My aunt has retired,” she said. “She asked me to thank you for finding her diamond. Can you tell me about it?”
“No,” he answered baldly.
“Why not? Surely you’re not planning to keep it a secret. It must be reported to Bow Street as soon as possible.”
“Not yet,” he parried.
“Will you tell me who it was at least?” she asked with curiosity—genuine curiosity—lending a sparkle to her eyes.
“Have you no idea at all?” he asked in a playful manner.
“None in the least. Of course, I saw Bessler drop his glass, but we know it wasn’t he. Ac-tually I was wondering if you did not suspect Bidwell, since Pronto was staring so hard at him. On your orders, I assume.”
“Assumptions are dangerous things, I can tell you. I’ve made a few erroneous ones in my time.”
“Oh, don’t be so provoking, Belami!” she said sharply. “I’m as closely involved in this business as you are.”
Her curiosity was certainly genuine. Belami was bereft of a new clue, and to enlarge his store of knowledge, he decided to bargain with her. “All right, I’ll tell you, but we shall require privacy for the telling.”
“Where?” she asked.
“Music room?” he suggested, picking an isolated spot.
“Very well, but first I must ask Herr Bessler to go up to Aunt Charney. She knows she’ll have trouble sleeping, and wants him to waft her off to dreamland.”
“That boring a conversationalist, is he?”
“Oh, no, that isn’t his trick. Mesmerism—you recall we spoke of it.”
“Does he actually put her to sleep?” he asked, interested in any novel nonsense, particularly of a scientific nature.
“Indeed he does. She makes sure she has on her nightgown before he does it. He usually mesmerizes her after she is in bed. Her woman sits with them, of course, for propriety’s sake.”
A slow smile crept across Belami’s face at the unlikely picture of the duchess indulging in the slightest impropriety.
“Of course,” he agreed, his lips unsteady.
“He began it when he was a doctor,
and it didn’t seem improper,” she pointed out, misunderstanding that smile.
‘‘How very interesting.”
“Yes, she didn’t have him do it for ages after the College of Physicians revoked his license, because she didn’t want to have a man who was not a doctor in her bedroom. Bessler said he could probably put her into a trance that would enable her to go to bed and undress herself after he left, but she didn’t have him do it. Aunt Charney wouldn’t want to be under anyone’s control. There is Bessler now. I’ll ask him to go up to her before we leave, if you’ll excuse me.”
Wild imaginings were flitting through Belami’s ingenious mind. New rays of light were shining on the many-faceted problem that confronted him. Bessler was beyond his hearing, but he saw him nod his head as Deirdre spoke, then he turned and left the room, and Belami went with Deirdre to the music room.
He took along a branch of tapers from the hall and closed the door behind him before setting the candelabra on the piano. “Have a seat,” he offered, nodding to the piano bench. She sat down on the edge of it, and Belami leaned toward her, resting one arm on the piano. Shadows hovered close by, as the two sat bathed in a puddle of light from the candles.
“Well, tell me all about it,” she urged.
“I’ll strike a bargain with you,” he parried. “You tell me what you were doing on the roof last night, and I’ll tell you the tale of the diamond. You were there, weren’t you, Deirdre?”
“How did you know—what makes you think that?” she asked, hastily amending her question, but she knew she had not fooled him.
He reached out and stroked her hair. “Thank you for wearing it loose, as I asked. It looks lovely.”
It occurred to her to say Bidwell liked it, but with the thief about to be announced, quite possibly Bidwell, she held her tongue.
“You didn’t wear it loose for the ball,” Belami continued, “But a few hairs came off on the coat collar all the same. Your gown was also damp along the bottom when I first arrived. Why were you there?”
