Repeat Business

by Lyn McConchie

  “Something he does not wish to take to the police, a matter of family, I believe. She is young, her shoes and clothing are of the first fashion and very expensive. I think, Watson, Mr. St. Clair may have a sister while the world is unaware of the relationship.

  I was still staring at him when the duo was shown in. Holmes went at once to the girl—as I could now see that she was, since closer to us, her slender youthful figure was evident to me even through the veils and heavy clothing.

  “Please be seated, my dear. My good friend, Doctor Watson, would doubtless prescribe a small glass of restorative cordial for you and perhaps a biscuit. You have partaken of nothing as yet today and are feeling faint.”

  I did as he desired, and with some coaxing got both a glass of cordial and two biscuits into the poor little thing. With her veiling thrown back she was revealed as a girl of some eighteen years of age. Her mouth was sweetly curved, her face attractive in the fine boning, and her coloring of a very pale blonde, but although there was no vice in that face, neither was there any strength, or so I thought. The child must have taken after her father or some paternal ancestor in coloration. Her mouth was half-open as if she panted in distress, so that her chin seemed weak. St. Clair sat beside her, took one of her hands into his, and explained—the while keeping his eyes fixed upon Holmes.

  “I should began by saying this is Chloe, my half-sister. My mother was not a wicked woman, but she was married to my father when she was very young. When I was twenty she ran away with a man of noble blood and some fortune, my father divorced her, and the man married my mother. She died in childbed a year later. At the time the man she ran off with was a mere Major Henry. But a catastrophe at sea almost seven years later left his uncle and cousin drowned, and brought him the title, and he is now Lord Brennan.

  “He married my mother in her maiden name of Margaret Donald, took her to France for some years, and as that is a common name, none ever associated it with Margaret St. Clair. We do not at all look alike since, while my mother was very fair, my father is dark and I have taken his coloring. But her father is fair and Chloe has the looks of his side of the family, which has aided us in that no one has so far suspected the relationship.

  “Lord Brennan told Chloe the truth, however, at the time he sold out of the army and they returned to England—although she has always understood it must be a secret. She and I have known each other from her childhood, as Lord Brennan thought it would do no harm for her to have one who would protect her as fiercely as he would himself. She has visited my wife and me a number of times, and my wife thinks highly of her. Lord Brennan and my father have never met, but Chloe is my sister and I love her dearly.”

  “Save that neither of you can protect her from the threat now brought against her.” Holmes stated quietly.

  St. Clair looked wry. “No. Therefore we are come to you, Mr. Holmes, knowing that you will at the least give us good advice and that at the most, you may be able to save Chloe from what pursues her.”

  With that the child raised her head. “Why do you not say the word?” she cried. “You speak of threats, of pursuit. It is blackmail, blackmail, and I am innocent.”

  Only I—who know Holmes so well—could see his form stiffen, his eyes betray briefly his outrage at that word, for as he once told me:

  “Of all crimes it is the worst, it destroys souls, ruins lives, and almost always the object of it will conspire in their own downfall, for more than anything they fear their secrets being told in public. I hate the blackmailer, Watson, as I have hated few other men.”

  That I knew, since once we had hidden in the shadows and seen a blackmailer slain by one of his pitiful victims, nor had we attempted to save him or prevent the crime, and afterwards we had kept our silence so that the woman was never caught.

  Holmes’ voice was very gentle. “Blackmail, you say? Then I shall do my utmost to aid you. Tell me how it came about and who it is who threatens you?”

  Her voice was low, almost too soft to hear so that we leaned forward, listening intently as she began her story.

  “I was allowed to make my debut this season. I made the acquaintance of a number of eligible young men and was soon on good terms with many, for they took such good care of me.”

  I thought that not to be surprising. There was an air of apparent defenselessness about Chloe, which would bring out the protector in any decent man—but such a mien could bring out the predator in others—both male and female—who liked nothing better than to drag down a helpless prey. Yet of what was Lord Brennan thinking if he had allowed her to be vulnerable to that kind of person?

  “One of the men was the Honorable Richard Langston,” Chloe continued. “We danced together at parties, and now and again he was one of a group when we went picnicking or riding. I liked him as a friend, but my feelings were no warmer than that, so I was surprised when he slipped a note into my hand imploring me for his life’s sake to meet him alone in a house of which he knew one evening.

  “He enclosed within his note an envelope and two small sheets of paper, and begged me in terms of the utmost despair to reply to him immediately. Therefore I went aside to the writing room in the home where we were at an informal dance, and I wrote back explaining that such was not possible, my father would never have permitted it nor could I come without a chaperone.” She paused and sipped from the glass of cordial I brought to her.

  “I gave the note to a servant to give to Richard and I thought no more of his request. I had liked him, how could I know that he would do this?”

  Neville St. Clair squeezed her hands. “You could not, little sister. The plot was well laid and I daresay others wiser in the ways of the world have fallen into it ere now. I will tell Mr. Holmes the remainder of the events.” He looked at Holmes, and we could see the terrible anger in his eyes although he kept it in check.

  “You do see that it was all foreplanned? The request, the envelope, and peculiarly small sheets of paper provided; my sister writes in a large sprawling hand, Langston knew that well enough, he has seen it once or twice before. Chloe wrote saying she could not meet him, but her refusal was on the second sheet. On the first she repeated his request and if the second sheet is not seen, it appears from the first portion of her letter that she is arranging a clandestine meeting with this man; alone, without chaperone, in a notorious haunt.” Holmes raised his brows in question.

  ”Oh yes, it was well planned. He invited her to meet him at a house that is owned by his mistress, Letty Jarrice. Chloe would not know that, and her ignorance too he would know.”

  We both nodded. “So, how much will it take to purchase back the second portion of her letter?” I asked.

  “Ten thousand pounds and cheap at the price, they said. Chloe would be utterly ruined if the letter were published with the first sheet alone. No man would offer for her, no society hostess would send another invitation. Her name would likely be stricken from the list of those who are presented at court. Lord Brennan is a rich man and he would pay, but it seems to me that such payment only encourages jackals such as these in their scavenging.”

  “What do you wish to do then?” I asked, and saw the rage flare again in his eyes.

  “Oh, let Brennan pay—this time—so we obtain the letter safely. But I would set a trap for these jackals into which they might be lured in turn.”

  Holmes nodded. “What bait?”

  St. Clair smiled. “Chloe.”

  I turned to stare at the girl and observed something I had hitherto missed. With her mouth shut now her whole face altered. It strengthened, firmed, the chin was a determined one, and with the melting look gone from her eyes they shone with an angry blue fire. Holmes considered her.

  “Yes, she may well serve. Do you have a plan also?”

  “I have the wisp of a plan, Mr. Holmes. I thought that with your mind and other resources, you might perhaps care to offer us more.”

  Holmes looked at me and I nodded. I did not know what might be in his mind at this
moment, but I would never refuse to follow my friend wherever he wished to lead me.

  “Very well.” Holmes informed them. “As you say, let us retrieve the letter, then we have some freedom to act.” St. Clair took his sister out heavily veiled again and the cab he hailed whisked them away. I turned to Holmes.

  “I know little of her father?”

  Holmes looked thoughtful. “I know something of him, and I think he is no man for this Langston to pay his tricks upon. Brennan was a soldier and a brave man who commanded brave men who would never have followed a coward or a fool. But he would have been no foolhardy boy even when he married St. Clair’s mother nineteen years ago. Then he would have been nearing forty and a seasoned soldier; now he’s well over fifty and a man of sharp wit, experience in life, and with a cool head. He won’t let the child be openly involved, I’d wager he’ll be here to say so the moment they have the letter back. But he’ll not object to a good ruse—I’ve heard that he’s played such games before.”

  Lord Brennan paid, in cash as Holmes suggested via St. Clair, and with money gathered from a large number of places. No policeman should ever track that payment to the source. Nor, we discovered, was Chloe idle during this time. She twice sent information by her brother, and each time what she told us was of considerable value. Holmes used those items as a lever and we were able to learn more than had been known before of this Langston and his mistress. With Chloe’s letter safe again, Lord Brennan came to Holmes as my friend had foretold.

  “I have to thank you for your advice, but I will not have my daughter actively embroiled in any plot to punish this man.”

  Holmes nodded. “No, we need her to be uninvolved in what is intended, and innocent of any part in the conspiracy. But she is determined that Richard Langston should pay since you may be unaware of what she, my friend, and I, have found out about him since he used her innocence to trap her into apparent indiscretion.”

  Brennan looked hard at us. “There is more?”

  “Yes, indeed,” I said. “Are you aware that in the past three seasons there has been the suicide of Miss Amabel Trent, the retirement from society of the Misses Milton, and the death of a Miss Gordon, who fell from her horse and broke her neck?”

  Brennan’s eyes went cold. “I am aware of these things. Do you say they had something in common with this attack upon Chloe?”

  My reply was a mere two words. “They do.”

  Brennan hesitated, then sat down heavily on the chair I pushed towards him. He looked at Holmes and me. “Then this was no opportunistic crime?”

  “I regret to say it was not.” Holmes pressed the tips of his fingers together and stared over them at his visitor. “Since St. Clair and Chloe first came to me I have been making inquiries, substantially aided I may say, by Chloe’s unobtrusive investigations amongst her friends and her transmission to me of the information gained thereby. I have verified much of what is secretly gossiped about in her circles, and it would seem that Mr. Langston and his associate in blackmail are a different breed of blackmailer from what is customary.”

  “In what way?”

  “They do not merely pay servants to steal indiscreet letters, or reveal noble secrets—although they will take those opportunities if they arise. Otherwise Langston and his mistress, Letty Jarrice, set out deliberately to entrap girls who have done nothing wrong. I have it on some authority that Miss Gordon’s death was suicide, hushed up to spare her family. The father of the Milton sisters was stripped of every penny saved for the girls’ debut. Miss Amabel drank cleaning solution. In each case and by very careful investigation I discovered the hand of Richard Langston behind the events. I am left to wonder how many other girls have been snared, but their families have paid for silence and no one else has ever heard.”

  Lord Brennan scowled. “How? How can he trap them so easily?”

  “Chloe was trapped, was she not?” Brennan made a furious gesture. “Precisely. I am told that in the case of the Milton sisters, they were deliberately caught overnight with two men of poor reputation. It was an elaborate plan in which the girls had no hand or foreknowledge, nothing occurred, but they would have been ruined if it were known generally. The men did know and were well paid. I have been unable to discover what was held against Amabel Trent, but Miss Gordon was used to ride out alone on her father’s land with only a stableboy.”

  “There is no scandal in that?”

  “There may be if it is bruited abroad that you do more than enjoy a brisk canter with him and if an eyewitness to this is claimed.” Holmes said dryly.

  “I know the family. It cannot have been the truth?” Brennan snapped.

  “I believe it to have been completely untrue,” Holmes assured him. “But it is a delightful piece of gossip, is it not? The sort of tale some people would have been quite ready to believe. Langston and Letty Jarrice lost out there, however, since they asked too high a sum. Miss Gordon’s family was not so rich as they may have thought, and they have four other daughters to settle. Knowing her parents could not find the money without ruining also her sisters’ lives and hopes, the girl chose to die instead.”

  “Why then have the blackmailers not returned to try the next girl?”

  “They may, but the next is only fifteen—as you know—and will not make her debut for another year or more. They may also think better of taking the risk in case she acts in the same way, and her father be driven to desperation.”

  “I see, then they are a cautious pack of jackals?”

  “Exceedingly so. It may be that the murder of Charles Milverton was something of a lesson to such gentry.”

  Brennan nodded slowly. “But you have a plan?”

  “We do.” I said. “Leave that to Holmes and me, Lord Brennan. Just be ready to support Chloe when the time comes to act.” He scowled again and I smiled at him. “She is a brave girl. Once she saw how many lives these vermin destroy, and after they had cheated you of so much with their falsehood, she determined to bring them to justice.”

  “Well, she can be very stubborn,” was all he said before taking leave of us.

  After that we made plans, we and Neville St. Clair, and we watched over those plans as they matured slowly. A heavily veiled woman in worn and shabby clothing went to a society gentleman and talked at some length before handing over letters, after which he gave her a purse, which appeared to weigh heavy in her hand. Mrs. Letty Jarrice was seen in conversation with people, after which they were seen lurking about a house in St. John’s Wood. Chloe Brennan went into the country for a while and returned, after which it was seen that she was in excellent spirits, and there was a quiet rumor that she had received an excellent offer. And Richard Langston made his move.

  Lord Brennan attended us later that night, his face flushed, his eyes brilliant with rage, and his entire attitude redolent of the desire to hit someone—very hard and a considerable number of times.

  “He has letters that he claims to have been written by Chloe.”

  I beamed at him. “He does indeed. They were beautifully created by a man known to my friend, Holmes. The forgery is carefully balanced. It had to be convincing to Langston, who has seen Chloe’s handwriting on one or two occasions, but it must also be easily discerned by an expert or even by anyone more familiar with her writing, that the letters are actually forged.”

  “He has witnesses whom he says will swear that they saw Chloe entering a house for assignations with a solider.”

  My smile grew, “Doubtless they will. Did he give you a list of the times and dates on which his friend claims to have seen Chloe entering this house?”

  “Oh, yes. He has all the evidence, he says. He will come to my home in the country privately three nights from now at ten, and I am to pay them fifty thousand pounds or he will publish the depravity of my daughter to all society.”

  Holmes turned from where he had been standing, studying the calendar. “Is Miss Chloe of the same mind still, is she determined to put an end to this pair?”
r />   Brennan sat down abruptly. “She is. I cannot move her and,” he looked up at us, “I am a solider, I have lost good friends in the field once to treachery. Langston, whom she thought of as a friend, coldly tricked her and betrayed her trust for money. You may not be aware, but the estate of Miss Gordon’s family lies near ours in Southfleet in Kent. The girls were never close friends, Chloe was two years the younger—but she liked and admired Alice Gordon very much and she has seen the grief of Alice’s parents and younger sisters. I do not think I could turn her from her path if I wished to—and, I find that I do not.” He stood.

  “Let you be ready with your friends, Mr. Holmes.” We saw him out before Holmes picked up his cape.

  “It is time to take this tale to Lestrade.” Lestrade, who was hopefully pleased to see us, met us in his office at the police station.

  “Do you have something for me, gentlemen? I hope so; a good arrest now would secure me another promotion. I am up against another officer who may have just a shade the preference with my superiors.”

  “Then we are come at an excellent time,” Holmes informed him. “What is your opinion on blackmail?”

  Lestrade’s face darkened. “That it is a foul crime. The pity is that so many who suffer from it, suffer in silence.”

  “And if we could show you two blackmailers and a victim who is determined to stand out against them?”

  “Then I would—I would—Mr. Holmes, let you only do that and I will aid you in whatever you ask the next time you may have need of me.”

  “I may hold you to that, Lestrade.” Holmes warned.

  “I care not, only let you bring these blackmailers into my net, and you may ask of me what you will. Now, tell me what you know, who are they, and whom have they approached?” I rose, opened the door, and checked that no one was nearby. Then I shut the door again securely, returned, and spoke quietly.

  “The victims are Lord Brennan and his daughter, Chloe. The blackmailers are the Honorable Richard Langston and his mistress, a Mrs. Jarrice.”