Mistaken Identity (Saved By Desire 3)

by Rebecca King

  “That’s right. When Mr Ball speaks, he does so quietly, almost to the point that I have to strain to hear him and miss most of what he says.”

  Marcus nodded. He had his suspicions that the man’s quiet speech was to protect the accent Mr Ball couldn’t quite erase.

  Once inside the room, he sighed deeply at the piles upon piles of books everywhere. In deference to Abernathy’s barren room, Ball’s room was cluttered.

  “Please tell me that we don’t have to check all of these,” Ben murmured.

  “Of course, we do, but there is a logical way of making sure we put them back exactly as we found them.”

  Marcus showed him what to do, and began to shake the books out to check for hidden compartments. Once he had worked his way to the bottom of the pile before him, he checked the floor boards beneath and then moved on to the next pile.

  “We are going to be here all day.” Ben sighed but began to work his way across from the other side of the room.

  “I hope not,” Marcus replied fervently and moved on to the next pile.

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Anything we can find,” Marcus grunted. “Can you read?”

  Ben shook his head.

  Marcus sighed and took a look at the spines on several of the books.

  “Here,” Ben murmured as he peered into a small hole.

  He pointed to a small groove that someone had carved into the wall behind a stack of books. When Marcus moved to join him, he slowly teased the object out of its confines and placed it on the floor so they could both see it.

  Marcus carefully unwrapped it and shook his head when he revealed several precious gems to their stunned gazes.

  “Oh, my word,” Ben whispered reverently. “They are beautiful.”

  “They are not the Squire’s jewels,” Marcus murmured in disgust.

  “Who?”

  “The Squire,”

  “What Squire?” Ben’s eyes were alive with interest.

  Marcus knew that the lad’s reaction was so instinctive, and the honesty in his eyes was so pure, that Ben was innocent. He had absolutely no idea who the Squire was. He hadn’t been at the Squire’s house and wasn’t the courier.

  “Framley Meadows,” he murmured, just to make sure.

  Ben looked at him blankly. “What?”

  Marcus shook his head. “So, tell me, Ben, who else in this village looks like you?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Who else around these parts, especially in the village, is about your height and build? Who would match your size and height and be able to ride for hours?” Marcus repeated impatiently.

  Ben thought about that for a moment. “Well, there is Bert Rodgers; he is about the same height and size. But he suffers from his hips so couldn’t possibly ride for several hours. Mr Gillespie is a bit taller than me. Mr Ball is too short, and Mr Abernathy is too skinny. The only other person I can think of who is about the same size is Carruthers, but he is always with Lloyd. But, I don’t think either of them has been anywhere of late. They have been hanging around here, trying to catch me.”

  “So stop,” Marcus warned. “Before they do catch you, and you end up going to prison for a long time.”

  Eager to change the subject, Ben motioned to the gems on the floor. “What do we do with these?”

  Marcus wrapped the jewels back up. “We are going to put everything back where we found it, and then check the rest of these books. Have you found any personal papers yet?”

  Ben shook his head. “There is nothing personal in this room either; just several changes of clothing. But, there can be no doubt what he gets up to while he is in his room, can there?”

  “You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Marcus murmured.

  “You don’t think he has read any of them?” Ben persisted.

  “There are numerous books in there, as you know. Piles and piles of them in fact. When Mr Ball moved in, did he carry numerous boxes to his room?”

  Ben immediately shook his head. “No. So where have they come from?”

  “It doesn’t matter where they came from. What matters is how the gang got the books into the house, and what they plan to do with them. There are far too many books in here for even the most avid reader to get through. Not only that, but those books cover all sorts of topics, including housekeeping. Either this man has an interest in ornithology, geology, philosophy, heraldry, etiquette, ancient Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks, and history or these books have been specifically brought here for some reason, and it is not for reading.”

  “What do you think they want them for?”

  “I don’t know,” Marcus sighed. “Let’s move on.”

  “Look, no books,” Ben cried as soon as they closed the door to Mr Gillespie’s room. “What do you bet that we find nothing but clothes in here as well?”

  “Mr Gillespie is the bird-watcher, isn’t he?”

  Ben nodded.

  “What?” he asked when Marcus stared thoughtfully into space.

  “I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was Mr Ball’s room and the other room was Mr Gillespie’s. I mean, at least in the other room there is a book about birds. Here, there is nothing. Where are all of his specimens? Where are the books detailing the different breeds? Where is his viewing equipment? Does the man go out and sit in bushes all day?”

  As he spoke, Marcus began to search. Not only did he find several changes of clothing, but on closer inspection, it was evident that the clothes had been placed in the drawers strategically. They were all so neatly liked up that Mr Gillespie had either a precise mind or the room had been deliberately set up.

  “Stop,” Marcus ordered sharply.

  Ben froze. “What is it?” he whispered.

  “This room has been set up.” Marcus’ voice was thoughtful.

  The tension thickened.

  “What do you mean?” Ben whispered.

  “Everything is as neat as a pin. Look at the boots on the floor. They have been lined up meticulously with the line of the floor board. Anybody searching here wouldn’t be all that bothered to notice, especially if they were in a rush. Then here, the shirts are all spaced equally apart. Anyone searching would mess these up and leave them out of alignment. Gillespie would know immediately that someone had been through his things. Given what they do for a living, tipping them off that you are suspicious is a really, really stupid thing to do. Don’t touch anything, Ben. Just look with your eyes. If you slide anything out, look for pieces of cloth in the drawers or something that has been put there deliberately as a visual warning that things have been disturbed.”

  “Good Lord,” Ben whispered. “Only someone who has something to hide goes to these lengths.”

  Marcus nodded. “Exactly. Let’s go.”

  “Have you found something?” Ben asked hopefully.

  “No, but this is too carefully crafted to be searched right now. We need to leave.”

  He didn’t say so to the lad, but he needed to come back to search this room when he was alone. If Ben didn’t put something back in the same position as he found it, then Gillespie would know they were on to him.

  Heaven only knows what would happen then, he mused with a sigh.

  They quickly moved on to Mr Brammall’s room.

  “Good Lord, is that perfume?” Ben gasped as they entered.

  “It is,” Marcus acknowledge. “But we will ignore the rather distracting scent and take a very brief look anyway, but again, look at the layout of this room. The carefully placed boots, the easy to topple pile of books, the small pieces of sewing thread placed between the drawers. Anyone searching could make the mistake of just pulling the drawers out. They wouldn’t notice, or pay attention to the thread that fell to the floor.”

  “But Mr Brammall would notice as soon as he got back,” Ben whispered, shaking his head in disbelief at the pieces of thread Marcus pointed out to him.

  Together the men checked everywhere; as much as they could with the time they had a
vailable to them. There was nothing untoward, except for white powder on the dresser that indicated the man wore make-up of some kind.

  “Let’s go,” Marcus said and yanked the door open.

  “But we haven’t searched it yet,” Ben protested.

  “We aren’t going to either,” Marcus grunted. “Hurry up. Get out. Now.”

  “Why? Nobody is here yet. They aren’t due back for hours.”

  “Do they often go out like this and stay out all day?”

  “Yes,” Ben replied firmly. “Each day is the same. They go out after breakfast, stay out all day and come back an hour before dinner. As soon as they have finished their meal they all head off to their respective rooms.”

  “We are not going to search those two rooms because of what I showed you. There is a way to search without warning them that we have been there, but we are not going to do it today. I strongly suspect that there isn’t anything hidden in there anyway. With the corrupt magistrate hanging around, even if they have him on their payroll, they wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave themselves vulnerable by keeping anything incriminating in their rooms that Lloyd might find. I suspect that whatever they need to hide will be in Mr Grant’s house somewhere. We just haven’t searched it yet to know for sure.”

  “This room isn’t as bad,” Ben whispered. He waved toward the room he had just closed the door on.

  “Yes, but it smells of perfume,” Marcus warned him.

  “So?”

  Marcus sighed and shook his head at him. “Why would we both smell of the same perfume Mr Brammall wears if we haven’t been in his room?”

  When Ben didn’t answer, Marcus leaned toward him and sniffed.

  “I can still smell it. Can you?”

  Ben shook his head, his eyes full of admiration and respect. “You are good.”

  “I know,” Marcus replied modestly. “You need to stand outside for a bit to get rid of the smell.”

  Ben sniffed his shirt, and could smell the lingering scent but wasn’t entirely sure whether it was coming from him, or Marcus, or the room.

  “Come on. I want to search your sister’s room next.”

  “Why Jess’ room?” Ben protested. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. She isn’t involved in any of this.”

  “I am not saying she is but, sometimes, the best place to hide something is right under everyone’s nose.”

  “But why pick Jess’ room? Why not hide something in the sitting room? There are plenty of places in there that could be used to hide things. It is far easier for them to hide things in the sitting room, or the dining room, than in my sister’s room.”

  “Tell me something, Ben,” Marcus began. “Was Jess’ room used before I got here?”

  “Well, no,” Ben replied thoughtfully.

  Marcus looked at him then motioned down the corridor. “Then we will go and search it.”

  Silently, Ben led him to the room.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I hate the fact she had to sleep in here, even for a short time,” Marcus murmured in disgust as he studied the threadbare room. To think that someone as warm and loving as Jess had been forced to live like this filled him with absolute disgust.

  “It is the only spare room in the house,” Ben reasoned quietly. “I know it isn’t great but there isn’t anywhere else for her to sleep unless she takes the scullery, but I am in there.”

  Marcus eyed the myriad pots positioned around the room and felt a sinking sensation deep in the pit of his stomach as he turned to look up at the ceiling. Unsurprisingly, he looked straight into the rafters of the roof. Several tiles on the roof had become loose and created a leak that ensured a steady drip, drip, drip, of rainwater fell into the room even when it wasn’t raining. The walls hadn’t been painted for nigh on a century, and the curtains were moth-eaten and threadbare. So much so that Marcus doubted they could even meet in the middle, let alone protect the room from sunlight. The shutters were practically non-existent, and the furniture was so well-used that it was a miracle it was still standing up.

  All of that paled into insignificance, though, when his eyes landed on the sagging mattress of the uneven bed. Although Jess had tried her hardest to brighten the room up with a throw and a colourful rug, it was a far cry from the furnishings she provided for the guests’ use.

  “Come on, let’s search,” he sighed.

  Ben looked at him. “What are we looking for?”

  Marcus thought about that. “We are looking for anything that looks out of the ordinary. If you find any jewels don’t touch them, just tell me.”

  When Ben continued to stare at him, Marcus told him about how he came to be in Smothey.

  Ben’s face grew harder as he listened until he was thoughtfully nodding by the time Marcus lapsed into silence.

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Ben suggested, and began to roll his sleeves up.

  The silence lengthened between them while they searched every nook and cranny within the room.

  “Marcus.”

  The change in Ben’s voice warned Marcus that he had found something. This time, when Ben put his findings on the floor for them both to see, it was Marcus who stared in horror.

  “What are they?” Ben whispered.

  “Some of them are uncut diamonds,” Marcus told him.

  He took a few minutes to poke through them and separate them into piles.

  “These coloured ones are gems that have been cut and polished. They are incredibly expensive,” he explained.

  Ben counted the money. “There is fifty pounds here, Marcus.”

  “I think these are mother of pearls, and this-” he shook his head. He didn’t need to explain to Ben what the wicked-looking knife was.

  “Protection,” Ben whispered.

  “I think it is more of a threat to anyone who finds this package,” Marcus mused.

  “Who are you?”

  “You know who I am, Ben,” Marcus warned him. “It is who the owner of this lot we need to consider. The man who has collected this little hoard has a network that goes far and wide. He ventures into all sorts of crime; murder, thefts, pick-pocketing, blackmail, burglary, you name it. Sayers has either done it himself, ordered someone to do it, or knows someone who has been arrested and has served a sentence for doing it.”

  “This Sayers’ person?” Ben whispered worriedly. “Is he likely to be here?”

  “I am not saying he is, you understand? But these are all of his hallmarks. The carefully placed items in the rooms are a trap. What I don’t understand is why the gems in the other room are not with these.”

  “Do you think they are going to work on them next or something? What does someone do with these?” Ben asked as he poked around in the pile.

  “The porcelains could be forged. I am not altogether sure. The uncut diamonds are a find and are worth a veritable fortune. They can be cut and inserted into any piece of jewellery, and nobody would ever know they had been stolen. These gems are rubies, emeralds, and topaz. These can be resized, ground down, and reshaped to fit new pieces of jewellery. There is no proof they have been stolen once they have been recut,” Marcus explained.

  “But what are they put into?” Ben asked. “These are all gems. There are no pieces of jewellery for them to go into.”

  Marcus thought about that. “I need to take a look inside Mr Grant’s house. I think that may be the workplace. They need this accommodation to support their pretence that they are ordinary, decent people.”

  “But how can they explain the fact that they keep going into Mr Grant’s house, and Mr Grant has vanished?”

  Marcus looked at him. “Did you know that Mr Grant had vanished before I told you?”

  Ben frowned. “Well, no. Now that I come to think about it, you were the one who prompted me to realise he was gone.”

  “Mr Grant didn’t go out much because he was elderly. The neighbours might not suspect anything unusual is going on if they hear noises coming from inside the property.”


  “Do you really think he is dead?” Ben asked worriedly.

  “If you had a house you had worked all of your life for, would you give it up to strangers without a murmur?”

  Ben shook his head.

  Marcus couldn’t see any reason to hide the seriousness of the situation Ben was getting himself involved in.

  “How do I get them out of this house, Marcus? I can’t have this going on here. What if the villagers ever find out? We would be incriminated even though we haven’t done anything wrong. Not only that, but I cannot have Jess in the middle of such danger. What if they hurt her?”

  That thought made Marcus feel a little sick. “They won’t. I will protect her. When she is in my bed, and I am there, nobody will get anywhere near her.”

  Marcus’ voice was so cold and ruthless that Ben considered him warily.

  “Hopefully, my associates will be here before anything untoward happens. We can take a look inside Mr Grant’s house then,” Marcus continued. “We will corner them at Mr Grant’s house when we are ready to arrest them. They won’t be challenged here because these men will not give up without one heck of a fight.”

  “I still want to help you,” Ben assured him.

  “I think that your cooperation in this is going to bring you a few surprises,” he said knowingly. “Just keep quiet about everything for now. Watch your back whenever you go out. Don’t go anywhere near Mr Grant’s house without me. My colleague is watching the house and will consider it suspicious if you go there alone.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ben murmured. “If they work for them, why are they trying to get in here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they are trying to get something they could plant on you,” Marcus sighed.

  He carefully repackaged the items and put them back in their hiding place.

  “What do we do now?”

  “Well, you need to do your chores. Jess will want to see most of them done by the time she gets back. I have to meet with Joe to tell him what we have found. I will meet with you back here later.”

  Jess hummed as she walked back from the town.