The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2)

by Dawn Harris

  We ran along the corridor, down some stairs, then Mudd opened a door, and quite suddenly, I could pick out actual voices. In front of me was the huge room I had seen when with my father, a most impressive lofty hall decorated with arms of the kind I had once admired at Windsor Castle. A great many people were there, all correctly dressed for the ceremony, as Mr. East now was. No-one would think it odd to see him here, but I dared not show myself, for I would be very much out of place at such a ceremony. In any case I had a better chance of preventing his revolution if he believed I was still outside looking for him. I left the door open a couple of inches while I decided what to do.

  The gentlemen were standing in a circle, with the King walking round talking to each in turn. Mudd, peering through the gap, whispered in awe, ‘They all look very proud, my lady.’

  ‘So they should, John. Can you see Mr. East?’

  After a moment he said, ‘Yes, my lady, he’s talking to another gentleman.’

  ‘If he changed his clothes that quickly,’ I murmured thoughtfully, ‘he must have procured another room nearby.’ A place where he could meet the other Fat Badgers and hide what he did not want to risk being seen in his room inside Government House. A man of great determination, Toby East. He must have seen Mr. Silver taken into custody, and knowing men would be scouring the streets for him, he’d changed his clothes, confident that no-one would think of looking for him inside Government House. Aware too that the King would not be surprised to see him there.

  I turned to Mudd. ‘John, find Mr Reevers. We need his men here.’ He raced off down the corridor just as the King began the official ceremony of bestowing honours on officers from Lord Howe’s fleet. Through the slightly open door I could see Mr. East watching the formalities, working out what to do next. With so many people around His Majesty, assassination would not be easy.

  Mudd soon came hurrying back. ‘Mr Reevers isn’t in his office, my lady, and no-one knows where he is.’

  I cursed under my breath. ‘He’ll be outside somewhere, John. You must find him.’

  He rushed off again, and when I looked back to where Mr East had been standing, my heart starting thumping in alarm. He’d disappeared. In rising panic I hurriedly searched the faces near the King, but Mr East was not amongst them. Where the devil was he then? And where was Mr Reevers when I needed him?

  Perspiration broke out on my forehead, and as I stood there, frantically looking round the room for Mr East, I saw something glinting in a shaft of sunlight in an open doorway on the opposite side of the hall. I stared for a moment, wondering what it was. Then I realised; it was the barrel of a pistol. And it was pointing directly at the King, who was now conferring a knighthood on one of the naval officers involved in our triumphant victory. Mr East was waiting to get a clear shot.

  I had to stop him, had to get across the hall to the rooms on the far side. With all eyes now on the impressive ceremony, I picked up my skirts and quietly hurried down the length of the hall, keeping close to the wall, where it was darker. When I reached the corridor opposite, I burst into the first door on my right, and saw Mr East aiming the pistol at the King, as if about to fire. Hearing the door crash open, he instantly swung round. ‘Lady Drusilla,’ he murmured, with a resigned sigh. ‘You are becoming an infernal nuisance.’

  I tried to drag my pistol from my pocket, but in my haste it caught in the cloth. While he, aware he must not draw attention to himself by firing a shot, rushed straight at me, lifting the butt of the pistol high in the air before aiming it violently at my head. At the last second I raised my arm which, along with my substantial hat, took the force of the blow, but I still slumped to the ground in agony.

  Instinct warned me not to move. For, if I tried to get up he would strike me again. He kicked me once, but I managed not to react or cry out, despite the intense pain. Which, thankfully, convinced him I was unconscious. I heard him lock the door leading into the hall, then he left the room by the other door, locking that too. Somehow I struggled to my feet, and leant against the wall until the room stopped spinning. I had to get out of here, but if I screamed and made a lot of fuss, I was afraid Mr. East would throw caution to the wind and kill the King at once, any way he could.

  The doors were so solidly built I would need a battering ram to get out. Then a more logical thought entered my head. Feverishly I searched the drawers of the desk and, there, at the very bottom was what I’d prayed to find. A spare key. Within seconds I was out of the room and on reaching the huge hall again, I saw him standing watching the ceremony. I quickly realised, as Mr. East must have too, that the room we had been in was too far away to be sure of delivering a fatal shot. Even for a marksman like him.

  I saw too that although he wanted to kill the King, he also meant to escape. He wanted to lead the revolution, to take Mr. Pitt’s place in Downing Street, and rid England of its nobility, executing the good along with the bad, as France had done. And unconsciously I ran a hand along the back of my neck.

  I had to get back to the other side of the hall again, but could not do so yet, in case Mr. East saw me. So, keeping well out of sight, I watched what he was doing. After a few minutes I saw him walk, with casual assurance, up to His Majesty, who was still conferring honours on the heroes of the hour. And I knew he had worked out how to murder him. I thought for one terrible heart-stopping moment that he meant to do it there and then. Instead he waited deferentially until the King turned to see what he wanted, when he took His Majesty to one side and spoke quietly. Mr. East had his back to me now, and I took the opportunity to cross the hall and get back to where Mudd expected to find me.

  The King, having listened to Mr. East, shook his head adamantly. ‘No, I will not leave,’ he said loudly. ‘Not until I have honoured these brave men as they deserve.’ When Mr. East began to protest, the King insisted, ‘I will carry out my duty first.’

  He went on with the ceremony, talking to the officers as he had before, showing no sign of haste. I guessed Mr. East had warned him his life was in danger, and advised him to leave the hall at once. Not for the first time, I found myself admiring the King. He was not easily frightened, which his would-be assassin must have forgotten in the heat of the moment.

  Mr. East stood waiting by a door in a dark area of the hall. Waiting to take the King to a quiet place and kill him. Unless I stopped him. But how was I do that? If I told the King that Toby East was a French spy, he wouldn’t believe me. Nor would anyone else.

  Government ministers like Mr. Dundas and Lord Chatham were in danger too, but I put them out of my mind. Only one life really mattered, and that was the sovereign’s. For Mr. East had said other groups in London would rise up the instant they heard the King was dead.

  Dizziness threatened to overcome me again, and I watched in a dazed state as the King finished the ceremony and walked towards Mr. East. I shook my head in an endeavour to clear my brain, and saw the King walking off with Mr. East. They seemed to be going in the direction of the apartments, where one would have been put aside for the King’s use.

  But which one? I ran down the corridor, past closed doors, but there was nothing to tell me if I was even in the right place. Suddenly, a servant came out of a room and I stopped him, asking if this was his place of employment, for I needed someone who knew the house, not some visiting servant.

  He stared at me, taken aback, before informing me loftily, ‘It is, ma’am.’

  I nodded. ‘Good. I can see you are a sensible man. I have a message, of a private nature you understand, for a – a-- gentleman. But I don’t know which is his apartment. If you would be so good as to tell me who is using which apartment.....’ I jingled some coins in my pocket, praying he wasn’t above being bribed, uncaring of what he thought of me.

  He smiled less loftily, pointed out the King’s apartment, told me who was using the others, and which were empty. I thanked him and rewarded him generously. He went off on his duties and I waited in the doorway of an unused room, thankful I was in the right corrid
or.

  Within seconds I heard the King loudly reprimanding Mr. East for having interrupted the ceremony earlier. ‘I’m surprised at you, East,’ he said, as they walked along the corridor. ‘You know how I feel about such things. I don’t care if there is an assassin in the building, my duty comes first. Besides, it’s almost certainly a lot of fuss about nothing.’’

  ‘Not this time, sir. I assure you.’ I was about ten yards away, and kept well out of sight until I heard Mr. East say, ‘Here we are then, sir.’

  I saw him open the door and wait for the King to pass through before taking a pistol from his coat pocket. I was about to confront Mr. East when Mr. Reevers ran into the corridor. Mr. East saw him too, and quickly shut the King’s door. The two friends looked at each other, but neither spoke, not until Mr. Reevers reached the King’s door.

  ‘Get out of my way, Radleigh.’

  ‘You’ll have to shoot me first.’

  ‘Don’t imagine I won’t.’

  There was no fear in Mr. Reevers’ eyes, only pain at the treachery of his friend. When that friend instantly raised the pistol and took aim, Mr. Reevers simply leant back against the King’s door, and quite deliberately folded his arms in defiance.

  I held my breath, not daring to move, fearing the slightest sound would cause Mr. East to fire. They stood glaring at each other for what seemed an eternity, before the pistol wavered and was then lowered. ‘Damn you, Radleigh,’ Mr. East hissed. ‘But I won’t let you stop me.’

  At that moment the King opened the door, causing Mr. Reevers, who was still leaning against it, to fall backwards. ‘What the devil’s going on here?’

  Jumping to his feet, Mr. Reevers urged, ‘Get back inside, sir.’

  The King looked from one gentleman to the other. ‘Don’t point that gun at me, East. It might go off.’

  Mr. Reevers threw himself at Mr. East, who instantly knocked out his friend with the butt of his pistol. Barely glancing at the inert figure at his feet, he turned to face the King, who was staring at him open-mouthed.

  ‘Inside, if you please, sir.’

  I emerged from my doorway, knowing exactly what I was going to do. Mr. Silver was in custody, Mr. Garnet and Mr. Pearl soon would be, and they would lead us to any other Fat Badgers. Mr. East was a French spy who’d had Septimus murdered, causing Julia great suffering. George Jenkins, another honourable man, was dead too, and the Fat Badgers had terrified Mrs. Jenkins into fleeing from the Island. But, worst of all, in my eyes, he was responsible for Jeffel’s death.

  It was all over in the blink of an eye. Not wanting to make a mistake, I shouted his name, knowing he would turn and present me with the perfect target.

  He swung round instantly, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and horror. Even as I fired the shot he saw I meant to kill him. And he was right. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  CHAPTER THIRTYONE

  Thankfully, Mr. Reevers recovered his senses quite quickly. Later, with the King’s safety ensured, and Mr. East’s body swiftly and quietly removed from the building, he insisted on taking me to his office. He placed a chair, urged me to sit down, took two glasses and a bottle of wine from a cupboard, put them on his desk and poured me a good measure. Setting the glass in front of me he advised, ‘It will do you good.’

  I felt no remorse at what I had done. I’d had no choice; if I hadn’t acted quickly Mr. East would have killed the King. The action that would start a revolution. But the sight of Mr. East’s lifeless body had left me feeling so shaky I had to hold the glass rather tightly. ‘I didn’t feel like this when I shot Mr. Ruby.’

  ‘He was a villain and out to kill you.’

  ‘Mr. East wanted me dead too.’

  ‘Yes.’ He closed his eyes momentarily as if his thoughts and feelings were too hard to bear. ‘But you knew, and liked, Toby. And that is quite a different thing. You will notice I could not bring myself to use a gun.’

  ‘And nor could he,’ I pointed out.

  ‘No.’ He spoke so softly I barely heard him, and when he poured himself a glass of wine I saw it wasn’t only my hands that were trembling. ‘I still can’t believe he was spying for the French. I thought I knew Toby.’

  I drank a little more wine and set the glass down on the desk. ‘Did he ever talk to you about Lord Rotherton?’

  ‘Only when that monster put a stop to his romance.’

  He was so overwhelmed by sadness that I longed to put my arms around him but, of course, that was out of the questions now. ‘I believed he was over it. He even told me he was.’

  ‘Well, he had to make you, of all people, believe that he was. If he’d acted differently, you might have guessed what he meant to do.’

  Swallowing some of his wine, he gazed unseeingly into the distance. ‘I wish he’d told me how he felt. If he’d talked to me I might have made him see sense.’

  I thought that unlikely, but I said nothing, there being no point dwelling on what couldn’t be changed. Instead I asked, ‘Tell me, what happened to Mr Pearl and Mr Garnet?’

  ‘They’re in custody. ‘ Finishing his wine, he put his glass down. ‘They’ve admitted to being involved in murdering Septimus and Mr Jenkins. And that will suffice to hang them.’

  ‘Justice will be done then.’ Julia would be grateful. And Mrs. Jenkins could return to the Island without fearing for the lives of her children. Justice for Jeffel too, although it was a poor recompense for the loss of a man I still missed every single day, and would for a long time yet.

  When I asked if they would be charged with plotting to kill the King, he said. ‘I doubt it. That’s not so easy to prove. Besides a public trial of that nature would serve no useful purpose when they will hang anyway.’ I couldn’t help but agree.

  A messenger came in at that moment with a sealed note for Mr. Reevers. Dismissing the messenger he opened the note, its contents making him chuckle.

  Putting it into his pocket he told me, ‘The King insists on returning to the Dockyard in an open carriage so as not to disappoint the crowds, and Mr. Dundas wants me to dissuade him.’ I smiled too. That was so like the King, and I could see no reason why he shouldn’t do so, not now. The Fat Badgers were either dead, or in custody. ‘His Majesty also wishes to see you before he leaves.’

  ‘Me?’ I exclaimed in surprise. ‘But, why?’

  ‘To thank you, I imagine.’ Mr. Reevers rose to his feet and walked round to me. ‘If I may be allowed to escort you?’

  ‘But I did very little.’

  ‘That is nonsense, as you know very well. You saved the King’s life.’

  ‘I was fortunate,’ I told him truthfully as I stood up.

  Mr. Reevers escorted me to the King’s apartment, where we found Mr. Dundas and Lord Chatham with the King. As I’d learnt in Windsor, the King was a surprisingly ordinary man, with a strong sense of duty. I curtsied deeply and he invited me into an inner room, leaving Mr. Reevers to persuade the two government ministers that all danger had passed.

  The King asked me to be seated and begged me to tell him plainly about the Fat Badgers. He listened very carefully, putting an occasional question, and when I reached the end, he asked, ‘What turned Mr East into a revolutionary, Lady Drusilla? I liked the man, and I thought he quite liked me.’

  A picture of Toby East’s face in that moment before I fired the pistol flashed in front of my eyes. I would never forget that look, that moment when he knew he was about to die. And I prayed I would never have to do such a thing again. Pushing such thoughts from my mind I told him about Rotherton’s daughter. ‘When she died, Mr. East blamed Lord Rotherton. Quite rightly, in my opinion.’

  The King gave a sigh. ‘I heard about Rotherton, of course. A shocking business. The Queen and I both thought so. How could any man force his own child to marry someone of Troughton’s stamp?’

  ‘She did refuse at first, sir, until Rotherton threatened to have Mr. East murdered unless she married Troughton.’ He stared at me in a mixture of horror, outrage, an
d utter disgust. ‘Mr. East thought it wrong for the nobility to have such power over life and death, even with their own children. And he wanted to change that.’

  He stood up and walked slowly round the room before saying, ‘A very sad business, what? I suppose it turned East’s mind. I wish there was something I could do about Rotherton, but unfortunately he has broken no law.’ Then he thanked me profusely for what I had done.

  Acutely embarrassed, I said, ‘It wasn’t just me, sir.’ I told him how much we both owed Richard. ‘When Mr. East held my uncle and I at gunpoint in that alley, Captain Tanfield tackled Mr. East without a thought for his own life. The bullet meant for me struck him.’

  I watched him working it out. ‘Yes, I see. If he hadn’t got in the way of that bullet, you would not have been there to prevent Mr. East shooting me. A brave man, indeed.’ And he asked quietly, ‘Was he badly wounded?’

  ‘The surgeon believes he will recover.’

  ‘That is good news, what? I should like to meet him. There’s no better man than a brave one, what? Where will I find him?’ I gave him the address and he promised to call the next day.

  Once the audience was over, he sent for Mudd to thank him for his part in ensuring Mr. Silver was arrested. For, as I’d explained to His Majesty, that villain had stood within a few yards of where the King’s carriage had stopped. An easy target. And Mudd was one of the few people who could recognise Mr. Silver.

  By the time Mudd returned, Mr. Reevers had gone, and Mudd escorted me to the house where we were staying. I fully expected Mr Reevers to call later that day, but I didn’t see him again until the following morning. By then Richard was well on the mend. Aunt Thirza and I took it in turns to sit with him, with Mr. Hamerton looking in often too.