The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2)

by Dawn Harris

  I gave a shrug. ‘You told Julia that Mrs. Jenkins was safe in Wickham with her brother, and she chanced to mention it to me. No-one else on the Island knew where her brother lived, except you and your villainous society. I only found out when Mrs. Jenkins wrote to me.’

  ‘A slip of the tongue,’ he grimaced.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Not quite. If you remember, before you and Mr. Reevers left for Portsmouth, we went over the information we had. When we spoke about George Jenkins overhearing Mr. Silver’s conversation at the inn, you said he’d still be alive if he hadn’t gone back for his gloves.’

  ‘But that is what happened,’ he said, puzzled. ‘Septimus said so in his journal.’

  I shook my head at him. ‘Septimus wrote that George Jenkins had forgotten something, but he didn’t say what. In her letter, Mrs. Jenkins said he’d gone back for his gloves. When I thought it all out, I finally saw the reason behind the failed attempt on the King’s life at Windsor. After that it was easy enough.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t matter now. It will all be over when the King reaches Government House. Mr Silver will see to that. He’s an even better shot than I am. And other groups in London will rise up the instant they hear the King is dead.’

  I realised then that while he believed Mr Silver to be undetected by anyone but myself, he would remain here. But, if soldiers were sent onto the streets Mr East would kill me, and then the King, if he could. If I could keep him talking it might distract him a trifle.

  So I asked, ‘Did you set up the Fat Badgers society because of Miss Rotherton?’ Deep pain flickered in his eyes, but he did not speak. ‘What happened to her was abominable, but I don’t see what you have to gain by assassinating the King.’

  There was a hint of mockery in the faint smile that touched his lips, and convinced he’d realised I was simply trying to distract him, I was afraid he wouldn’t answer. But the temptation to explain overwhelmed him. ‘Don’t you, Lady Drusilla? Then, I will tell you. In this country aristocrats do as they please. Even with their own children. Rotherton said I wasn’t good enough for his daughter. I’ve spent years risking my life to keep people like him safe, yet he swore he’d have me killed if she didn’t marry that pig. And she believed him. When I think of what she must have suffered at the hands of that – that - libertine—’ He spat out the word with such anguished loathing I caught my breath. Then he stopped quite deliberately and composed himself again, clearly remembering his purpose for being here.

  ‘You must know Mr. East, that I and a great many other of the rich aristocrats you despise, consider Lord Rotherton’s behaviour to be beneath contempt.’

  ‘I am aware. But there are too many of his kind in England. Revolution is the only way to change that.’

  He was quiet for a moment or two, and I was about to ask another question when he said, ‘I was in France when I got word of her death. I went into an inn with a French agent, now working for us, who had supposedly become disillusioned with their revolution. I drank too much and told him about Rotherton. He said many people in England were bitter about the nobility escaping justice, while ordinary people committing similar offences were hanged, sent to prison, or transported, and was I interested in doing something about it. I said I’d like nothing better, and he told me he was a double agent, loyal to France, ordered personally by Robespierre to recruit agents to infiltrate the English Corresponding Societies and bring about a revolution. That’s how it began. And I don’t regret it. Not one bit.’

  ‘But - you had Septimus murdered. And George Jenkins. Weren’t they as innocent as Miss Rotherton?’

  He sighed, shaking his head in a manner that implied I couldn’t possibly understand. ‘I’m sorry for Septimus, but he should have stayed with us. Once he left, I couldn’t save him. The same goes for Mr Jenkins.’

  ‘Who----’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t me. The others did it. They had no choice. I was still in Windsor then.’

  The mention of Windsor filled me with such rage, I burst out, ‘Jeffel would be alive but for you.’

  ‘That wasn’t meant to happen.’

  He spoke as if what he’d planned had gone awry, and it made me realise something I hadn’t considered before. ‘That bullet was meant for me, wasn’t it.’ He gave a shrug. ‘You wanted me out the way even then?’

  ‘Having met you, and listened to Radleigh singing your praises, I knew you would be a danger to me if Pitt employed you. I was afraid you would see what Radleigh would not.’

  ‘So when Mr. Silver and Mr. Ruby turned highwaymen, you waited in the woods, and removed the body after we’d gone. And it was you who had Mudd kidnapped.’

  He inclined his head. ‘I wanted you on the Island, not here in Portsmouth. You have too sharp a brain.’ Not sharp enough, I thought. It had taken me too long to see through Toby East. But who would suspect a government agent? A man trusted by the highest in the land.

  It was then my uncle turned into the far end of the alley on his way back from Government House. Mr East saw him too, and quickly stepping back into the shadows, he took a second pistol from his coat pocket and ordered me to stand where I could be seen. When my uncle saw me standing in the middle of the passageway he broke into a run, and despite the warning I tried to give with my eyes, he rushed straight up to me.

  ‘What on earth are you doing here, Drusilla?’ He was clearly bewildered, and in answer, I indicated the figure in the doorway.

  In a sudden unaccustomed blaze of anger, my uncle took a step forward. ‘Why, you-----’

  ‘Stand still,’ ordered Mr East. ‘Or I will shoot Lady Drusilla.’ My uncle, who would not have stopped on his own account, did so for mine, as Mr East had judged he would.

  The cheers of the crowds were so deafening now the procession had to be very near. Still Mr East did not take his eyes off of us. Yet I could not just stand here. I had to do something. I glanced at my uncle, and saw he understood exactly what I was thinking. Regrettably, it was also obvious to Mr East. ‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he warned. ‘You would both be dead before you reached the street.’ Recalling the fate of the two would-be assassins in Windsor, I knew he was right.

  My uncle, who was looking in the direction of the street, said provokingly, ‘Perhaps we would, but even you can’t shoot three people at the same time, I fancy.’ And I turned my head to see Richard walking into the alley.

  He looked so cheerful I knew all had gone well with Lord Howe, and guessed he had come back to tell us the good news. But, as he took in the scene before him, his eyes widened in shock. Mr East did not hesitate; he levelled the pistols at us, and as he did so, Richard launched himself straight at Mr. East. At the same time, my uncle pulled me out of the firing line with such force that I fell to the ground. Richard’s actions caused one pistol to fire high into the air, but the other bullet struck him and he dropped like a stone.

  ‘Oh, no,’ I whispered in despair, just as my uncle threw a punch at Mr East. He ducked, avoided the blow, struck my uncle over the head with the butt of a pistol, and ran off. As I got to my feet, my uncle staggered to the nearest wall, leant against it and slowly slumped to the ground, dazed but still conscious.

  Richard lay face down, crumpled up on the ground, and did not move or speak. I longed to stop, but knew I must not.

  ‘Uncle,’ I begged in a choking voice, desperately trying not to think of Julia, ‘please see to Richard.’ If he was dead, I could do nothing. If he was still alive my uncle would deal with it better than I could. My job was to stop Mr. East, who only had to reload the pistols to take part in the assassination. But when I reached the street, he was nowhere in sight. In the time it had taken me to get to my feet and speak to my uncle, he had disappeared into the crowd.

  A sudden tremendous roar told me the King’s carriage was in sight. Cheers rang through the air all along the street, people surged forward in their hundreds, eager to catch a glimpse of him. Picking up my skirts I ra
n in the direction of Government House.

  It was then I saw Mr Reevers. He came towards me, his face so grey with shock I did not need to ask if he had read the report I’d written for Mr. Dundas. He ran a hand distractedly through his thick black hair. ‘I just can’t believe it. Not Toby---’

  I was genuinely sorry and told him so, then I briefly repeated what Mr. East had said about Miss Rotherton, and why it had driven him to revolution.

  ‘I thought he was over that.’ He spoke jerkily, still too stunned to take it all in. ‘He hasn’t spoken of her for ages. I was convinced he’d fallen for Miss Adams.’

  ‘That was to throw us off the scent, I fear.’

  He said, half to himself, ‘I thought I knew him.’

  There was no time to commiserate and I begged, ‘Tell me, have you found Mr Silver?’

  ‘Yes, he’s at the front of the crowd near Government House.’

  ‘You’ve left him there?’ I spluttered in disbelief.

  ‘It seemed the best thing to do.’

  ‘The best thing------ ‘

  ‘Don’t worry, he can’t harm the King now.’

  ‘But, Mr. East can. You haven’t found him?’ He shook his head and looked away, as if he could not bear me to see his desolation.

  Another huge cheer broke out, telling us the King had arrived at Government House. It was impossible to speak above the noise, which went on for what seemed an age, and while I understood why the King wanted to take his time acknowledging this wonderful welcome, I wished he would hurry up and go inside.

  Looking at Mr Reevers I saw the strain in his eyes as we waited. ‘I told them to get him into Government House quickly, but he can be very stubborn.’ At long last the cheering subsided, which told us the King had finally gone inside, and Mr Reevers let out his breath in one long sigh of relief. ‘He’ll be safe there.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said thankfully. ‘Why did you leave Mr Silver where he was?’

  ‘He was in the perfect place to assassinate the King, and I hoped that when Toby-----’ the word caught in his throat, the pain of his friend’s betrayal clearly etched in every line of his face. But he took a deep breath and went on, ‘I hoped Toby would entrust the actual shooting to Silver. So I sent in six men, cheering wildly like everyone else. Local men, people Toby wouldn’t recognise, brought in to prevent the pickpocket gangs ruining the Royal visit. They closed round Mr Silver, and quietly disarmed him. I hope you approve, it was all I could think of at the time.’

  I did approve of such quick thinking and told him so. ‘Mr East will have seen Mr. Silver and thought all was well. It was an excellent notion.’

  Mr Reevers bowed. ‘I’m thankful to have done something that gained your approval.’

  I ignored the inference and demanded, ‘Where is Mr. Silver now?’

  ‘Being carted off to prison. I told them to wait only until the King was inside. Which I hope will make Toby see how pointless it is to go on.’

  I shook my head at him, remembering the fanatical light in Mr. East’s eyes. ‘Believe me, nothing will stop him now.’ And I urged him to warn the King of the danger.

  ‘That’s easier said than done. The King hates being interrupted when he’s carrying out his public duties, and there’s no real risk when he’s surrounded by so many people. I’ll speak to him before he leaves.’

  ‘It would be wiser if he returned to the dockyard by another route.’

  'What, and disappoint the crowd? He would never agree to it.’

  ‘He could be killed.’

  ‘As you saw in Windsor, His Majesty doesn’t lack courage.’

  The crowds were still milling around, some making their way homewards, others waiting to catch another glimpse of the King when he left. It was then I saw a familiar figure threading his way towards me.

  'Oh, there’s Mudd,’ I said, thankful he was safe.

  ‘Actually it was Mudd who spotted Mr Silver. In fact he begged me to let him shoot the man out of hand.’

  ‘Mudd said that?’ I gasped, for generally my groom was the gentlest of men.

  A faint smile hovered on his lips. ‘I don’t think he approved of Silver and his friend trying to kill you on the cliff top.’ And Mr East had not been afraid of what Mudd might do.

  ‘When does the King return to the dockyard?’

  ‘At three. He’s dining with the ministers, admirals and local dignitaries back at the Commissioner’s House at four.’

  I shivered, all too aware that Mr. East wouldn’t give up now. When I told Mr. Reevers how Mr. East had held us at gunpoint in the alley, he closed his eyes. ‘How could Toby do such a thing?’ he whispered, unable to keep the anguish out of his voice.

  ‘It was Richard who saved us. He literally threw himself at Mr. East. My uncle pulled me out of the line of fine, but Richard was hit — ‘

  ‘Hit?’ he echoed in alarm. ‘Is -- is he--?’

  I swallowed. ‘I don’t know.’ A picture of Richard crumpled up on the ground flashed before my eyes, but I dare not allow myself to think of him now. ‘My uncle is with him. Our job is to find Mr East.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, his eyes filled with so much pain I had to look away. ‘I have men out looking for him now. I’ll post others outside Government House and all along the route.’ He pulled out his pocket watch. ‘Just over two hours before the King leaves. I pray it will be enough.’ I didn’t answer, for I could not rid myself of a feeling of unease, which must have shown in my face, for he demanded, ‘What is it, Drusilla?’

  I ignored his use of my name, indeed I barely noticed it. ‘I keep thinking how Mr East has fooled us all for weeks. How he cast suspicion on Mr. Hamerton----’

  ‘I have been wrong all along, so if you have any alternative to suggest----’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t think of anything better.’

  ‘Then I must set things in motion.’ He turned to Mudd. ‘I know I can rely on you to stay with Lady Drusilla.’ And he hurried off towards Government House.

  When I congratulated Mudd on his part in Mr Silver’s arrest, he pointed out modestly, ‘I was the only one who knew what he looked like, my lady.’ And looking past me at the crowds, he went on, 'Oh, there’s Mr Frère.’

  I swung round on my heel to see my uncle coming towards us. ‘Tell me at once,’ I whispered, when he reached us. ‘Is Richard alive?’

  He nodded. ‘The surgeon is removing the bullet from Richard’s chest as we speak. But it’s touch and go, I’m afraid. All we can do is pray.’

  I stared at him, thinking of Julia. ‘If he hadn’t knocked Mr. East off balance we would both be dead.’

  ‘What Richard did was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.’ And he put a hand on my arm in concern. ‘You should sit down, my dear. You look positively ashen.’

  ‘I can’t. There’s too much to do.’ Richard was in good hands, I told myself sensibly. I must not think of him, or of Julia, not now.

  My uncle asked, ‘Have you seen Mr. Reevers?’

  ‘A few minutes ago.’

  ‘When he read your report, he was convinced you were mistaken. So I told him I’d seen Mr. East with those men, and that they all had firearms. His face went white,’ he said, his voice full of compassion. ‘So I left him then. A man betrayed by his closest friend needs a little time alone.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I always thought Mr. East a splendid fellow, but it seems he is every bit as dangerous as those fanatical sans-culottes.’ And he sighed, ‘Well, I must go back to Richard. Will you come with me?’

  ‘I can’t, uncle.’

  ‘I was afraid you’d say that. Please be careful, my dear.’

  As he strode off, Mudd and I turned towards Government House. This being the area where I was convinced Mr. East would be. As I said to Mudd, ‘Firing at a moving target is not as easy as it seems. And injury won’t suffice. In order to kill the King, he must get close to the carriage. That’s the one thing we can be certain of.’

  Unfortunately, I failed to remember that there
are very few certainties in life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I believed Mr. East meant to assassinate the King when he got into the carriage, or during the few seconds before it moved off. Even a good marksman like Toby East couldn’t be certain of killing the King when the carriage was moving, and people all around him were shouting and waving their arms about in excitement. If he only injured the King, and His Majesty recovered, all his efforts would have been for nothing. My reasoning was sensible and logical, yet still that feeling of unease refused to go away.

  A band was playing on the green near Government House, for the King loved music. It was also very popular with the crowds, a large number of people having gathered to listen, and a great cheer went up when the band started to play “Rule Britannia.” Mudd and I mingled with the crowd desperately searching for Mr East, for there was no better place to hide. But finding anyone in this good-natured throng was not easy with people coming and going all the time, hailing friends, and where children and dogs were running about.

  Once Mudd chased after someone he saw hurrying off, but it wasn’t our quarry, and I was standing on the edge of the crowd considering what to do next, when I noticed a man a considerable distance away, walking purposely towards a side door at Government House. His formal attire suggested he was invited to the levee, although I did wonder why he was using the side door. Guests generally entered through the doors at the front.

  When I pointed this out to Mudd, he said, ‘Perhaps he’s an official, my lady.’

  The man had his back to me, yet even from this distance there was something oddly familiar about the straightness of his bearing and the way he held his head. Then, just before he went through the archway towards the door he glanced over his shoulder. ‘Good God, it’s Mr. East.’ And picking up my skirts a little, I ran after him, not caring what anyone thought.

  Mudd reached the door before me, and on opening it, we were immediately presented with a flight of stairs. Running up these we reached a corridor, but saw no sign of life. I had been to Government House once before, with my father, and although I knew there were more than forty apartments here, I had not seen them, nor had I ventured into this part of the building on that occasion. In truth I had no idea where I was, but hearing the distant hum of people conversing, I headed in that direction.