Menendez hauled her to her feet. ‘This is Doña Magdalena. She can’t speak right now because she’s gagged. She will travel back to Spain with us.’
‘I don’t think so, Menendez!’
Two dark-coated figures suddenly moved out from between the stacked bales on the wharf, deadly metal pistols gleaming in their hands. Magdalena gasped, unable to believe her ears and her eyes. It was Stephen and Constable Woods. They both looked strained and Stephen’s face was glowering with anger. They stalked cautiously towards Menendez, their weapons steady and aimed at him. She heard the Frenchman curse and scurry back down the steps. Excitement and hope welled up inside her.
Menendez laughed cruelly. He pulled Magdalena back into him and held up a pistol to her temple. ‘You’re a damned nuisance, Lavender,’ he said.
Is it his own pistol? she wondered as the cold barrel pressed into the side of her head. Or is it the empty one of mine he pulled out of my boots? Desperately, she tried to remember if Menendez had gone anywhere near the bookcase in the study where he kept his own weapon. If it was her empty weapon, then this was a bluff.
‘Let her go!’ Stephen and Constable Woods moved closer. They fanned out.
‘One more step and I shall kill her,’ Menendez snarled. But she heard the tension and panic in his voice.
‘Trust a Spaniard to hide behind a woman’s skirts,’ Woods sneered.
But the two officers stopped in their tracks, unprepared to take a chance with Magdalena’s life.
‘Let her go and throw down your weapon!’ Lavender yelled.
Menendez dragged her a step closer towards the treacherous steps and glanced back uneasily. The Frenchman was already clambering back into the longboat. Magdalena sensed her captor’s indecision and knew that he would never be able to drag her down those slippery steps into that wooden boat. Not with her arms bound behind her. He would have to use her as a shield until he reached the top step. Then no doubt he would let her to fall into the Thames as he leapt down into the boat.
She faced a stark choice. She could either struggle like mad, try to escape his clutches and risk a pistol shot through her skull – or she faced certain death in the icy waters of the Thames.
Magdalena made her decision. With every ounce of her strength she kicked out behind her. Her heel made contact sharp contact with his shin. He yelped with shock and temporarily loosened his grip. She seized her opportunity and threw herself forward as hard as she could, twisting her body to break free. She expected the flash and sharp retort of the pistol shot that would end her life. It never came. She landed in an undignified heap on the ground, jerking her head back to stop her face smashing onto the ground.
Time stood still. Menendez raised his pistol, swung round and aimed at Lavender. A single pistol shot rang out in the cold night air. The powder flash lit up the dock.
Felipe Menendez swayed. He dropped his pistol then toppled backwards off the wharf. Magdalena held her breath. For a split second there was nothing. Then she heard the gratifying splash as Menendez’s body hit the water. She exhaled. She twisted her head and caught sight of the pistol lying on the ground. Its pearl handle glimmered in the moonlight: it was hers.
Stephen was instantly by her side. Constable Woods raced to the edge of the wharf. As Stephen pulled her up off the ground and took her into his arms, he called out to Woods: ‘Is Menendez dead?’
‘I can’t see him in the river,’ Woods growled. ‘And his French friends haven’t bothered to look for the body – they’re leavin’ without him.’
Magdalena could hear the frantic slap of oars against the water.
‘The buggers are gettin’ away!’ Woods raised his pistol and took aim.
‘No, Ned!’ Stephen shouted. ‘Let them go. The information they’ve got will cause the French more trouble than it’s worth. Let them take that fake document back to their masters.’
Woods grunted with reluctance but he lowered his weapon.
‘And get away from the edge – they might shoot back.’
Lavender gently took the gag from around Magdalena’s mouth and untied her.
‘It’s over, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘It’s over, my darling.’
She couldn’t speak. She just fell into his arms, buried her face in his chest and sobbed with relief.
Lavender took Magdalena back to her lodgings, wrapped her tenderly in a thick shawl and made her sit in front of the fireplace while he raked around in the cold grate and lit a fire. But she couldn’t settle. She rose to her feet and stood for a while by the window looking out into the damp, dark and silent street.
He came up behind her and handed her a large glass of brandy. Her hands still trembled and she sipped it unsteadily.
‘Your window to the world,’ he said softly. ‘Are you looking out there for more excitement?’
A slight smile played around the edges of her lips. ‘No, thank you, Detective Lavender,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve had more than enough excitement for one lifetime.’
Behind them the fire blazed into life. Lavender took a large drink from his own glass and felt the fiery liquid revitalise his insides. Warmth gradually seeped back into his aching body and colour crept up into Magdalena’s cheeks.
Conscious of his stare, she gently touched the bruising around her mouth, caused by the gag. When she raised her hand, he noticed that there were bruises around her wrists too. Fresh anger flashed through his exhausted mind. He’s dead, he told himself. He’s dead.
‘I must look a fright,’ Magdalena said.
He smiled. Despite everything she had been through, her first thoughts were for her appearance. ‘You always look beautiful to me, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘The cuts and bruises will fade and the swelling will go down.’ He saw her colour deepen. ‘I just hope that the terror Menendez caused you will fade just as quickly,’ he added.
She shrugged. ‘Do you think he’s dead?’
‘I’m sure of it,’ he replied firmly. ‘I shot him right between the eyes.’
She smiled, a deep satisfied smile. ‘You have repaid your debt now Stephen,’ she said. ‘I saved your life at Barnby Moor; now you have saved mine.’
It was his turn to shrug. ‘It doesn’t alter how I feel about you, Magdalena,’ he said. ‘My offer of marriage never came out of gratitude for your help at Barnby Moor. It came because I have fallen in love with you.’ He remembered Teresa’s words back at Bedford Square: ‘She loves Señor the detective! She tell me!’ He took a deep breath and remembered Woods’ advice.
Magdalena smiled again and looked down modestly. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. ‘I’m tired, Stephen,’ she said. ‘I think I need to retire for the night.’
Lavender fought back his disappointment and nodded. But he wasn’t ready to do the gentlemanly thing and bow out just yet. ‘I’ll just stay long enough to finish my drink,’ he said. Then he winked. ‘If you want, I’ll come and tuck you into your bed.’
She lowered her eyelashes but her lips still smiled. She disappeared behind the faded old curtain that separated off the sleeping quarters from the main room. He swirled the amber liquid around his glass, watched it glint in the firelight and waited.
Suddenly, he heard a strangled sob from the far end of the room. ‘Stephen,’ she murmured.
He was on his feet instantly, striding over to her. Magdalena was standing beside the large metal-framed bed, her shoulders drooped in misery.
‘What’s the matter, my darling?’
‘I can’t get this dress unhooked without Teresa’s help.’
He gave a small laugh. This was the last thing he had expected: a game. He rose to the challenge. ‘I see, madam,’ he said. ‘So you can help the British government smash a dangerous ring of French spies – but you can’t undress yourself?’
She nodded, a half-smile playing around the edge of her gorgeous lips. He knew she was lying and a wave of anticipation swept through him.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said softly. He moved forward to
the warmth of her body and her scent. ‘I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a lady’s maid.’
Carefully, he undid the hooks on the back of the gown. It fell away to the ground, with a rustle of silk. Magdalena wore a soft, white chemise beneath her satin corset. The garment flared out from her slender waist over the voluptuous curves of her hips. Its frilled neckline was tied loosely with a pink ribbon. His fingers itched to pull the trailing end of that ribbon.
‘Thank you, Detective,’ she said, softly.
‘My pleasure, señora.’ He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his body. She didn’t resist.
‘You make a good lady’s maid,’ she whispered. ‘I may use your services again.’
He lowered his head to kiss her neck and suck gently on her ear lobe. The softness and scent of her warm skin sent a fresh wave of passion coursing through his veins.
She relaxed against his him, twisted her head and looked up. Her violet-black eyes smouldered with desire. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. ‘Stay with me tonight, Stephen,’ she whispered.
‘Only if you promise to marry me,’ he said.
Chapter Thirty-five
Monday 26th February, 1810
Lavender, Woods and Captain Sackville sat in Read’s office, watching the frowning magistrate as he read Lavender’s report. A folded news-sheet lay discarded at the edge of his desk. Woods was amused to see one of the headlines on the front page: Sans Pareil Actress Back from the Dead! Today’s news-sheets had all trumpeted the triumphant return of April Clare to the stage and were blithely unaware of the greater drama that had taken place in the capital over the last two days.
The longcase clock in the corner of the room ticked slowly. The fire crackled quietly in the grate. They heard the muted shouts of the hawkers mingled with the low rumble of the incessant traffic to Covent Garden. On his left, Captain Sackville grinned from ear to ear and lounged back comfortably in his chair. But Woods was conscious that Lavender, on his right, was tense and scowling. He wasn’t sure why.
‘So the French agent escaped on board the ship?’ Read said. It was more of a statement than a question.
‘Not entirely,’ Sackville said. ‘Constable Woods roused the chief customs officers for the pool of London and they launched a pilot boat. They managed to get the name of the ship from its bows before it reached the East India Docks at Blackwall and gathered speed. If that ship ever returns to the Thames, my agents will be ready and the Admiralty will deal with her and her crew.’
Read glanced up at Woods. ‘You did well, Constable.’
Woods bristled with pride.
‘But both Gabriel Gomez and Felipe Menendez are dead?’
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ Sackville said. ‘Menendez shot Gomez before Lavender and Woods could arrest him.’
‘And Menendez tried to escape,’ Woods said quickly. ‘Detective Lavender had no choice but to shoot him. He fell into the river and Mother Thames claimed him for her own.’ Read glanced up at his two officers. Lavender said nothing.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Sackville said. ‘The imposter, Sir Lawrence Forsyth, is in custody and is proving to be – how shall I put this? Quite cooperative?’ There was a short silence. No one asked how the Admiralty had managed to make the spy so ‘cooperative’. ‘You will be interested to know, Lavender, that Forsyth doesn’t have scarring from burns on his back.’
Lavender nodded. There was a look of satisfaction in his eyes but still he said nothing.
Sackville cleared his throat. His next words were calculated and formal. ‘The Duke of Clarence has been informed about Forsyth’s deception and is, understandably, quite horrified and distressed. I trust that the Admiralty can rely completely on the discretion of everyone in this room? Should the news-sheets – or the public at large – ever hear about this story then the scandal would be devastating to both us and the House of Hanover.’
Read nodded without glancing up. ‘You can trust my officers, Captain. No one in this room will ever breath a word of this shocking affair. I am more concerned at the moment about all these Spaniards in my prison cells. Who are they?’
‘Oh, that’s down to me.’ Woods grinned from ear to ear. ‘After I left the customs officer, I rounded up a few of the lads from Bow Street and we went back to the Menendez house with a prison wagon. We arrested the whole bloody household – includin’ that coachman – whom we think is also part of the spy ring.’
‘I can see we will be busy sorting out this lot over the coming days, Magistrate Read,’ Sackville said cheerfully.
Read reached for another document on his desk. ‘It says on the charging sheets that the eldest Menendez sister has also spent a night in the Bow Street cells? Do you think she’s part of the gang as well?’
‘It’s difficult to know, sir,’ said Woods. He frowned and assumed a look of concerned innocence. ‘We didn’t arrest the younger sister but that eldest one is a sly old tabby and a hatchet-faced old trot.’
‘We don’t normally lock up women just because they’re ugly and have a sharp tongue, Constable,’ Read said. ‘Otherwise there would be no room in the police cells of London for the criminals.’
‘Well, I think that Captain Sackville’s men should give her a thorough goin’ over,’ Woods insisted. ‘There may be somethin’ she knows.’
‘Leave it to me,’ Sackville said, grimly.
Woods grinned and felt a flush of satisfaction. He had been shocked at Juana Menendez’s brutality towards little Teresa; the woman deserved an unpleasant stint in the cells.
Read sighed and shook his head. ‘It looks like I will have a busy afternoon in court – I’ll need a Spanish interpreter, Stephen.’
‘Not me, I’m afraid,’ Lavender said quickly. ‘You’ll have to find someone else. I’m busy this afternoon. I have some private business to attend to today.’
Read’s mouth dropped open but before he could close it and reply, Sackville intervened. ‘Yes, you fellahs probably deserve a little time off. All in all, a satisfactory conclusion, eh Read? The Admiralty is very pleased with how this case has been resolved. Admiral Hawkes would like me to extend his thanks to you and your officers.’
‘Humph.’ Read was only partially placated. He glanced shrewdly at Lavender. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said. Lavender nodded. ‘And Doña Magdalena? I trust she’s no worse for wear following her ordeal?’
‘Fortunately, she’s fine,’ Lavender said. ‘But that is no thanks to you.’
Woods took a sharp breath. The simmering tension between the two men was about to erupt again. He braced himself for the conflict.
Lavender pulled a wad of letters out of his coat pocket and pushed them across the desk towards Read. ‘She asked me to give you these. Apparently, these are documents which prove that Menendez was in the pay of the French.’
‘I’ll take those,’ Sackville said and reached forward to claim them. Read nodded his approval.
‘I understand that some payment is in order?’ Lavender stared coldly at Read. ‘You persuaded Doña Magdalena to spy for you, did you not? A foolish notion on your part which nearly got her killed.’
There was an awkward silence in the room. Woods was genuinely shocked. So that was why Doña Magdalena had become involved with Menendez – and why Lavender was so furious. Read shuffled uncomfortably in his seat and avoided eye contact with Lavender.
‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘So she told you, did she? Well, I will make sure that she’s reimbursed for her trouble.’
‘I would hope so,’ Lavender said. Read didn’t reply. ‘This will be the one and only time that she spies for you.’
Read nodded. ‘I understand.’
‘In fact, I have an announcement to make.’ Lavender pulled himself up straight and glanced round to make sure that the other men were paying attention. Woods held his breath.
‘Doña Magdalena has agreed to be my wife. We intend to marry at St Saviour and St Mary Overie in Southwark. The first bann
s will be read next Sunday.’
Woods exhaled, whooped and beamed from ear to ear. Both he and Sackville reached over and clapped Lavender on his back.
‘Oh, I say, old man!’ Sackville exclaimed.
‘Congratulations, sir,’ Woods said.
‘Well, this is a rum turn-up for the books! An excellent outcome to the case, I say,’ Sackville added.
Magistrate Read looked anything but pleased. ‘Does she intend to convert to Protestantism?’ he asked, sharply.
‘No.’
‘And what will your family think about your marriage to a foreign Catholic?’ Read’s voice rose with anger. ‘Don’t forget that I worked with your father for years – I’ll wager that he’ll not be happy about welcoming a Roman Catholic into the family.’
Woods frowned. He had also worked with John Lavender and knew him to be a fair and decent man, devoted to his family.
‘Actually, I took Magdalena to meet them last night,’ Lavender said calmly. ‘They think she’s delightful.’
Woods relaxed. Good for John and Alice Lavender, he thought.
Read threw up his hands in a dismissive gesture. His face set in a petulant frown. ‘So be it. You go ahead and ruin your career with a marriage to a Papist,’ he snapped. ‘The demand for your services will soon dry up once this becomes public knowledge.’
Lavender shrugged and stared calmly across the desk at the blustering magistrate. ‘I’ve told you before – I’ll take my chances with that.’
‘And I shall be sorry to lose Doña Magdalena’s services as a Spanish teacher,’ Read continued. ‘I understand that she has been an instant hit with our operatives.’
‘She would like to continue with her work,’ Lavender said. ‘She believes it will be a worthwhile occupation for her while I’m out of town on a case and I know that you need her. Although you and I need to talk, Read, about that woefully inadequate salary you pay her for her talents.’
Woods whistled quietly. That Doña Magdalena was certainly a unique kind of woman.
‘That’s most irregular.’ Read scowled. ‘It will look like you can’t afford to keep your wife if she works.’
The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) Page 29
