Triple Jeopardy

by Anne Perry

  Jemima’s eyes filled with tears, and she was furious with herself. “I know,” she said huskily. “I’m sorry. I’m…scared.”

  He smiled ruefully. “Good. That means you’ll think before you act, except with the toast. Or maybe you’re cleverer than I thought? Have I just been thoroughly manipulated?”

  She was horrified. “No! Of course not! How can you—” She stopped because he was genuinely laughing. “Oh…” She looked at him with a little awe, and the realization that while she was away in America he had grown up so much. She smiled back at him.

  CHAPTER

  Seven

  LATER THAT MORNING, Jemima left to visit Rebecca. It was an hour when it was acceptable to call on people with whom you were friends, but not close ones. In such engagements, a certain formality had to be observed. She could meet with Rebecca, but she wanted to be cautious should Bernadette and Tobias Thorwood be in.

  She chose a dress carefully from among the few she had brought with her. Its soft blues and greens suited her very well, but more than that, the cut was elegant, very fashionable, and very flattering, especially to her slender frame. She found herself walking with grace, and a smile.

  The Thorwoods were staying for a month at one of the best hotels in London, one in which it would be beyond Jemima’s means to spend even one night. But since she had no desire to, she could look at it without even minor envy. As it transpired, Tobias was not in, and Bernadette was preparing to visit an old friend herself.

  Jemima was shown up to the Thorwoods’ suite, where Bernadette welcomed her, but with some awkwardness. Jemima could not tell from the almost enamel-smooth face what her feelings were. She was in her early forties, having married young and had her only child at the end of the first year. She was very slender, delicately so, and wore her fashionable heavy silk dress and flowing jacket with great flair. Her thick hair was an ordinary shade of brown, but her eyes were green, clear and startling, almost mesmerizing.

  Rebecca, slight and pale, stood beside her. Only her eyes reflected her pleasure at seeing Jemima.

  “How kind of you to call, Mrs. Flannery,” Bernadette said with a cool smile, immediately taking control of the situation. “Of course! You were born here, weren’t you! Is your family well?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Jemima replied. This was a ridiculous conversation, considering what they both knew. “Are you finding London pleasant?”

  “As much as can be expected,” Bernadette replied. “Considering what brings us here.” A tightness filled her face for a moment, and then she forced it away. “I’m sure we shall come another time and it will be very nice.”

  “I’m sorry…” Jemima felt compelled to apologize, and then resented it.

  “Hardly your fault, my dear,” Bernadette replied. “She was well over seventy.”

  Jemima’s complete incomprehension must have been clear.

  “Rebecca’s godmother, May Trelawny,” Bernadette said patiently. “She died. Rebecca is her goddaughter; she has no children. It is our sad duty to settle her affairs.”

  Jemima glanced at Rebecca and saw not only a deep grief in her face, but something else: an indecisiveness, a sense of trouble. She saw no way to rescue the situation.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so concerned with Rebecca’s general spirits, I forgot for a moment about Miss Trelawny. I came to visit Rebecca. I have never forgotten how kind you all were to me when I first arrived in Washington. I would like to take her to some of the quieter, more charming places in London and show her the same friendship. A walk in one of the parks, perhaps. We do not need to meet anyone…”

  “I doubt she will wish to, but it was generous to offer,” Bernadette replied. It was clearly a dismissal, even though Rebecca herself was standing beside her.

  Jemima’s mind was racing, trying to decide whether she should mention the arrest of Philip Sidney. Did Bernadette know? She was sure Tobias must, but he might not have told her. That would mean he had not discussed it with Rebecca either. That was deeply troubling. Were they going to conduct an investigation without asking her opinion at all? Would it all be done around her, about her, but never seeing or hearing her, as if she were a small child? Was that really the best for her?

  Everything in Jemima rebelled. Rebecca would not be able to tell her experience, or deny anything said about her that was not true! And if Sidney were the sort of man who would break into her room at night, rip her necklace from around her throat, and all but assault her, he certainly would not hesitate to lie.

  “Are you sure…?” Jemima began.

  Bernadette raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her otherwise perfect brow. She was obviously unused to having her wishes or judgment questioned.

  Jemima turned and smiled directly to Rebecca. “Are you well enough to go for a walk? You still look so tired. But I promise we will not go far…”

  “It’s the perfect time to take a walk, and I would love to get some fresh air,” Rebecca said. “Your parks are so beautiful. I shall get dressed immediately. Ten minutes and I’ll be ready. Perhaps we will find somewhere for luncheon. It’s a little early for it, but I haven’t eaten for ages.” And without waiting for Jemima’s reply, or giving her mother a chance to argue, she turned to her bedroom and disappeared behind the closed door.

  Bernadette gave in with a certain amount of grace and commanded that Jemima look after her daughter. She then excused herself to prepare for her own calls.

  * * *

  —

  JEMIMA AND REBECCA walked together toward Hyde Park, about a quarter mile from the hotel. The sun was hot and bright, the roses in their second flush. The neatly planted flower beds were dazzling with blooms, reds and dark blues, towering delphiniums, salvias, wide-eyed pansies in every color possible. The grass on the other side had been recently mown and smelled wonderful.

  The breeze was light, and as they moved along the path, they were one moment in the sun, the next the shade, and then the sun again. There was the sound of distant laughter, shouts of children playing, and the crunch of gravel under their feet.

  Jemima glanced sideways at Rebecca. She was very pale—far more so than her mother. That was partly her fairer hair and her lighter, aqua-colored eyes, but mostly her almost bloodless skin, bruised-looking around her eyes from sleeplessness. Jemima hated raising the issue. “Rebecca…”

  “What?” There was apprehension in her face.

  Jemima hesitated. Was this necessary? Yes, it was. “Did anyone tell you that Philip Sidney has been arrested for embezzlement?”

  Rebecca stopped, her face paler still.

  Jemima tightened her grip on Rebecca’s arm. “The embezzlement took place, apparently, when he was at the British Embassy in Washington.”

  “Are you sure?” Rebecca sounded startled.

  Jemima’s mind raced, her imagination all over the place. She realized she had thought that Tobias Thorwood might be behind the charges—that they may have been created to force Sidney into a courtroom. She worried about Patrick: How far would he go to help Rebecca? How exactly did he know about the embezzlement? Was it a trumped-up charge, with Tobias behind it? Had they asked Rebecca at all exactly what had happened, if she was sure it was Sidney who had broken into her room? How far had the Thorwoods thought about it, beyond revenge, beyond a verdict? Had they thought about Rebecca afterward at all?

  “Didn’t your father tell you?”

  “No! How do you know?” Rebecca was shivering despite being in the sun.

  “Patrick told us that the police had arrested him. He asked my brother if he could defend him.”

  “Defend him!” Rebecca’s voice rose in the beginnings of hysteria. She was shaking, standing in the middle of the footpath, on the edge of losing control altogether. There seemed to be no hunger for revenge in her, no anger, just outrage and terror on top of her grief for May Trelawny
.

  Jemima seized hold of Rebecca by the shoulders. “No!” she said loudly. “Only to defend him of the charge of embezzlement and see that there is a proper trial, with all sorts of questions asked. But let’s start now with the most important: Do you want to do this?”

  “What?” Rebecca’s voice steadied, but she still looked trapped. “Do what? I don’t…I don’t even know anything about it!”

  “Your father wants…” Jemima began, then realized she knew this only because Patrick had told her. “I think your father wants,” she began again, “to have Sidney charged with a crime here in England, so that the theft of the pendant and your assault can be mentioned and Sidney’s part in it be made public.”

  “But it has nothing to do with the embezzlement. If that even happened!” Rebecca protested.

  “I know, but you can bring all sorts of other things in, if you’re clever enough, and it doesn’t have to be proved. If everyone knows, because it is an open court, that will ruin him anyway. And…and you might get May Trelawny’s pendant back.”

  Rebecca was silent for a long time. Then she turned and began to walk along the path again, gazing at the gravel at her feet.

  Jemima caught up and walked beside her, falling into step. “I’m sorry, but I thought you needed to know about the trial. It should be your decision, whether you want to accuse him of the theft or not.”

  “Father says it will make me feel better if I make it public…”

  “Maybe it will, but you will have to live with people knowing about it, even after that. Is that really what you want?”

  “No,” Rebecca said quietly. “I was frightened. He was so…so…rough! It was as if he hated me…despised me…I felt isolated, because I’d liked him.”

  “Had you rebuffed him?” Jemima tried to think of a reason for Sidney’s sudden change of attitude. It was a ridiculous and horrible thing to have done. “Or could he have acted only for money? The pendant—was it worth a great deal?”

  “Only to me. I loved Aunt May, and I would never have told anyone, for her sake, that it wasn’t even a real diamond. It was made out of crystal.”

  Jemima wondered if, had Sidney known this, he may never have acted so rashly at all.

  “Did Sidney say anything to you? Did you rebuff him? You didn’t really answer me.”

  “No. I…liked him. He was quite shy underneath the humor. I…” Now her eyes filled with tears and she was obliged to stop and find a handkerchief. She blew her nose, as much as was ladylike in a public place, and put the handkerchief away. “That’s another thing. It made me feel such a fool! I so badly misjudged him. If I can’t tell a man who’s violent—breaks into my bedroom at night and steals what he thinks is a diamond, tears it off my neck so roughly it cuts my skin—from a man I thought I would like and trust…even fall in love with…what kind of a complete fool am I?”

  “Only the same as the rest of us,” Jemima said gently. “Is it possible he knew you liked him and confused a signal?” There was no way to finish this decently.

  Rebecca was understanding, and Jemima liked her intensely for it. She could so easily have taken refuge in anger. “You mean did I lead him on? No, I didn’t. I liked him. That’s all. I’m not as sophisticated as some, but I’m not completely naïve.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “I know,” Rebecca said quickly, putting her hand on Jemima’s arm again. “Please don’t try to explain. You’ll only make it worse.”

  “I should remember that,” Jemima admitted ruefully. “And you’re sure it was Philip Sidney?”

  “No, I had no idea who it was. But he had his height and build, and his hair color. And my father saw him in the corridor outside, in the light, just for a moment. It is difficult to remember and describe a stranger, but you know them easily if it’s someone you’ve seen quite often.” Rebecca hesitated, uncertainty plain in her face.

  Jemima felt sure that something deeper troubled her. Was it simply guilt that she had been so foolish and cared for someone who had so appallingly used her, or had she perhaps led him on, trusting him? There could be so much more to this, delicate, tenuous, but acutely painful. “Never mind,” Jemima said quickly. “I just thought you should know so you are not caught unprepared. If it ever gets that far, you may be called to the stand.”

  “Who would call me?” Rebecca was astounded.

  “The defense, I suppose, if…I don’t know.”

  “But that’s your brother!”

  “I don’t know what will happen. If it comes up, if your father says anything about the assault, you may have no choice but to stand witness.”

  “He wouldn’t do that! I will…”

  “Refuse? And leave your father out there, sounding as if he made it up? And if you do refuse, it would look like the same thing as saying it didn’t happen,” Jemima pointed out.

  “But it did! Look!” Rebecca pulled the collar of her dress away from her neck and showed the scar, still pink and a little inflamed in places.

  “I don’t doubt you,” Jemima said sincerely. “I just want you to have the chance of following it up or not, with the correct information to make up your own mind. If I were in your place, I can only imagine what I would feel. I don’t know, but I think I might prefer not to tell the whole world about it.”

  Rebecca stared straight ahead of her. “I’ll have to think” was all she could manage. “Now let us please talk of other things. Tell me about Cassie. How is she?”

  * * *

  —

  WHEN THEY GOT back to the hotel, the friends found Bernadette already waiting for them. She was polite to Jemima, but clearly concerned for Rebecca.

  “I’m fine, thank you, Mama. Please don’t treat me like an invalid, or I shall begin to feel like one.”

  “Was it pleasant?” Bernadette asked. She glanced at Jemima, then back at her daughter. “I hope Jemima didn’t…” She was looking for a courteous way of phrasing something without being openly unpleasant.

  Jemima smiled. “Rebecca was kind enough to ask me about Cassie…my daughter,” she added, in case Bernadette should have forgotten her name. “What mother is not delighted to answer every such question?”

  Bernadette relaxed, almost smiling. It altered her face, giving life to its almost ceramic-like perfection. “Of course. How is she?”

  “Saying more every day. ‘No’ was a big discovery a little while ago. Now it is ‘why?’ ”

  Bernadette actually smiled; the subject was safe.

  Ten minutes later, as Jemima was preparing to excuse herself and leave, Tobias Thorwood arrived, accompanied by another man, lean but elegant and at least two inches taller than Tobias, who was more than average height himself. This man was not handsome, but he was definitely distinguished, and his clothes were beautifully tailored. He had an air of confidence about him that was surprisingly comfortable, as if he knew in some personal way that everything was in control. Nothing could ever make him panic. He followed Tobias, who was, as always, perfectly dressed, pleasant-looking in his own way, thick curly hair, a wide smile and very open face in comparison with his friend—and they were clearly friends.

  “Ah, Jemima,” Tobias said quickly. “Come to see Rebecca? How kind of you. I’m sure your company will raise her spirits. May I introduce you to Sir John Armitage, from the British Embassy in Washington. John, this is the English wife of young Flannery I was mentioning to you.”

  “How do you do, Mrs. Flannery?” Armitage said pleasantly. “Are you back in London for a while?”

  “A few weeks,” Jemima replied. She wanted to avoid the subject of Sidney and anything to do with the embassy in Washington—or with the police, for that matter. “It is the first time I have been back since my marriage.”

  “And your family has not been out?” Armitage asked. “Sometimes I forget just how far it is.”

/>   “My parents have, but not my brother,” Jemima replied, and then wished immediately she had not. Either her father’s occupation, or Daniel’s, would strike far too closely to the subject she wanted to avoid. She did not look at Rebecca, because she could imagine her stiffening already, prepared to find a way of leaving them that would not seem churlish and embarrass her parents in front of this man. Jemima must fill the silence. Armitage was staring at her expectantly. She felt like an intruder who must explain her presence. “Rebecca was so kind to me when I was first in Washington,” she said too quickly. “I wanted to show her some of my city, and it is a lovely day for a walk.”

  Tobias was watching her. He seemed remarkably tense. His shoulders were hunched inside his jacket.

  Armitage broke in. “Mrs. Thorwood,” he said to Bernadette. “If you recall, you mentioned the other evening certain music you enjoyed. I brought a program for the Promenade concerts at the Queens Hall and I thought you might find something there that you like. You’re in London for so short a time, it would be a shame if you were not able to spend one evening with the timelessly beautiful.”

  Bernadette looked at him with relief. “How kind of you, Sir John. If you wouldn’t mind waiting just a moment, I shall get my diary and see what engagements we have already.”

  “Of course.” He made a small gesture, almost a bow. And when she turned to leave the room, he followed a pace or two behind her, as if she had expected him to.

  Rebecca thanked Jemima again and excused herself to her room, apparently without feeling she had to offer an explanation.

  As soon as she was gone, Tobias faced Jemima, speaking in a low voice. “I hope you are here merely to see Rebecca, and not to try to persuade her not to proceed with her accusation against Philip Sidney, now that the police have charged him with another crime? Forgive me, but I do not entirely trust your…kindness.”