The Arnifour Affair

by Gregory Harris

  “Earl who?”

  “The owner. The Earl of Arnifour. The one who was killed.”

  “He there. He have bad night. Have fight with man and then girl come in. He try to calm girl down. Want to take her upstairs. She not happy, screaming and yelling. She crazy. Everyone say so.”

  “Man? What man?”

  “Owner son. He say bad things. Then he leave and girl come in and—”

  “I know. . . .” Colin waved her off. “You’ve been quite clear about the girl. But what about the son? What kind of things did he say?”

  Li Shen shrugged tiredly. “He hate man.”

  “Which man? What man?”

  “Father. Owner. Say he teach him lesson. Why he want to teach lesson to father he hate?”

  Colin shook his head with a noticeable lack of interest and sighed. “And what was Mr. Vandemier doing during all this?”

  “He not there. Too early for him. Not climb out of pig pit yet.”

  “And how long ago did this happen?” he repeated, his own exhaustion catching up to him.

  “Sometime . . .” She didn’t even bother to finish her sentence. She wouldn’t be able to. Opium steals time. The months she’d spent in that club would forever be one continuous span. She yawned and set her brandy down. “Li Shen tired. No feel good.”

  “Of course.” Colin rose and I did the same.

  “If you’ll come with me,” I said, grasping her arm and leading her down to the room beside Mrs. Behmoth’s own. Everything had been arranged so that this seldom-used space looked inviting. She had turned down the bed and pulled open the armoire to reveal extra covers and some nondescript nightclothes. She’d even managed to scrounge up a small vase of pale pink roses that she’d placed on the bedside table. I bid our guest good night and hoped she could get some rest before the morning and its realizations came roaring in.

  I found Colin reclining in the bath upstairs attempting to soak off the vagaries of the night. I lowered myself to the floor and leaned against the wall, a heavy weariness sweeping over me in direct contrast to the gentle dancing of the candles he’d set about the tiny room. It would be so easy to fall asleep but unacceptable to awaken on the floor of the bathroom.

  “Is she settled in?” he mumbled in a voice as tired as I felt.

  “As much as she can be,” I said as I allowed my eyes to close.

  “We’ll have to decide what to do with her tomorrow.”

  “Someone died tonight because of her, maybe more. . . .”

  “I know,” he sighed. “But something isn’t right. . . .”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I can’t get a clear picture of Elsbeth. By all accounts she was willing to have an affair with a man she believed to be her uncle, relishing the extravagant lifestyle it afforded and allowing herself to be spotted in public with him under less than appropriate circumstances. Yet now we learn that in a fit of pique she went down to his club and shouted slanders and threats? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “No . . .” I had to agree. But in spite of my determination to hold up my end of the conversation I knew I was fighting a battle against sleep I was unlikely to win.

  “And why would Eldon have been there that night? What could have compelled him to confront his father like that?”

  “Li Shen could be wrong,” I said, biting into the side of my cheek to keep from yawning. “She is a drug addict.”

  “She is . . . but we have to be careful not to be too dismissive. There’s undoubtedly some truth in what she’s saying. And yet I can’t help feeling that we’re still missing something. The trigger. What drove Eldon to make such a public spectacle of himself when anyone can see he fears his own shadow? And why would Elsbeth threaten to burn that damnable place down?!”

  “Eldon’s a drunk. There’s no explaining a man like that. Coming to our flat this afternoon to tell us that story just so he can implicate his mother. It’s a disgrace.”

  “It could be true,” Colin sighed. “Though it’s hard to take the recollections of a five-year-old with anything but caution. What may have seemed like quite a lot of blood to him then could prove quite inconsequential to an adult. Still, it is a sordid tale.”

  “And even if it is true, it might not change a thing. Maybe Elsbeth was on the verge of being replaced as the Earl’s favorite and that’s what set her off,” I blathered in near incoherence.

  Colin bolted up so quickly that water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. “Of course! How foolish I’ve been.”

  “What?” I blinked vacantly as I struggled to focus. “Foolish about what?”

  “What’s the one thing that would have set them both off?” He stared at me, but I had nothing. If there was an answer to see I wouldn’t have spotted it scrawled on the wall in front of me. “The Earl had someone else. Someone who was a threat to Eldon’s inheritance. All this time . . . ,” he chuckled as he climbed out of the tub, “. . . there’s been someone missing from this game. Someone who set everything else in motion.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Morning roared in with great anticipation, as did Colin. By the time I managed to coax my eyes open he was already up and dressing at a furious pace.

  “Are you planning on sleeping all day?” he teased. “There’s much to be done. The Ilya Petrovina is due in shortly and we’ve got to get down to the docks to see if your suspicions about Michael have any basis. And I should also like to announce that by the end of this day we will have named the perpetrator in the Arnifour murders. However, first we must question our houseguest. I’m going to have Mrs. Behmoth awaken her. I simply cannot wait another minute.”

  I roused myself as quickly as I could, loath to miss anything, all the while considering Colin’s declaration that he was on the verge of solving the Arnifour murders. I hadn’t the slightest notion how he intended to do so given the possibility of yet a more recent mistress in the picture. I couldn’t even imagine how he meant to find her. If Li Shen didn’t know who she was, and that seemed most likely, then we would be beholden to Warren Vandemier, and I didn’t expect we’d get much help from him anymore.

  I tidied up and dressed swiftly, and was about to go downstairs when I heard the distinctive thudding of Colin trudging back up. I suspected Mrs. Behmoth had routed him for disturbing our guest at so early an hour and had sent him back up to wait a little longer.

  I made my way to the study and found him stirring a fire to life. He was well pulled together and as I settled into my armchair, anxious to ward off the remnants of sleep, I was grateful to have a few minutes to collect myself before having to confront Li Shen again.

  “She isn’t here,” he muttered as soon as I’d gotten settled.

  “What?!”

  “Li Shen is gone. Mrs. Behmoth found her bed empty.” He tossed the poker onto the hearth with a clatter and stalked to the stairway. “Can we please get some tea up here!” he bellowed.

  “Don’t you ’oller at me!” she hollered back. “It ain’t me fault she’s gone.”

  Colin threw himself onto the sofa, a stern gaze clamped on the fireplace until Mrs. Behmoth finally made her appearance, the silver tray of tea and scones clamped in her hands.

  “I spent ’alf the bleedin’ night with ’er, ya know,” she groused as she banged the tray onto the table. “She was sick the ’ole time. Chuckin’ and moanin’ ’til the sunrise began pokin’ in through the windas. I was fagged out. It ain’t no wonder I never ’eard ’er stir.”

  “I am not blaming you—”

  “Like ’ell yer not.”

  “All I want to know is if she said anything? Did she give any indication where she might have gone?”

  “Wot? In between hackin’ ’er guts out?” Mrs. Behmoth screwed her face up and spoke in a high-pitched voice, “Pardon, mum, but as soon as I’m done ’ollowin’ ’ere, I’ll be ’eadin’ off for a pint at the local pub.”

  “Fine!” he snapped. “I get the point.”

  “Poor little thing was sick
as a cur.”

  “Yes . . . I’ve got it.”

  A loud rapping at the door was all that kept Mrs. Behmoth from responding, which, given the sourness of the expression on her face, I was grateful for. She disappeared back downstairs muttering under her breath, and I hoped it might be Li Shen, though I knew how unlikely that was.

  Moments later Inspector Varcoe and one of his lackeys were standing on the landing outside our study. As I stared at the inspector’s self-righteous gloat I couldn’t help but wonder how a day so filled with promise just a few short minutes ago could have so swiftly turned bad, the evidence of it standing before us now.

  Inexplicably Colin did not appear perturbed in the least. I supposed he’d been expecting this visit; it was bound to come, though it was unforgivably early.

  “Aren’t we just the picture of domestic ease this morning,” Inspector Varcoe sneered as he strolled in. “I would’ve brought your paper up but didn’t want to rob you of the only legal recreation you’re likely to have today.”

  “I do wish we had a dog to fetch it. I’d love one of those bull terriers,” Colin said as he sat down in his usual chair and casually flipped out a crown, starting its inevitable route between his fingers.

  “Well, you’d certainly have the time to train it.” The inspector snickered. “I hear you’ve been fired by Lady Arnifour.”

  “Not fired,” I shot back. “We have been paid in full for services rendered.”

  “Oh, I see.” He chuckled again. “But I’m not here to gloat, though it is a distinct pleasure; I’m here on official business. I need to know where the two of you were last night.”

  “I’m quite sure you know exactly where we were.” Colin shifted his gaze to the uneasy-looking bobby still hovering in the doorway. “Would you care to sit down, young man? You needn’t stand on formality here.”

  “Stay where you are, Lachlan!” Varcoe snapped. “Why did you leave the scene of a crime, Pendragon?”

  “Crime?” Colin tossed the coin onto the mantel as he reached over and picked up one of the dumbbells next to his chair and began methodically curling it with his left hand. “Are you implying that the fire in that club last night was deliberately set?”

  “Piss off.”

  “You might remember that you’re in our home now,” I pointed out. “If anyone is going to piss off—”

  “Now, now.” Colin smiled easily as he continued to pump the weight. “Perhaps if you outline your suspicions we can see if we know anything further.”

  “I want some ruddy answers!” he roared, his face morphing into the burgundy of a plum. “What were you doing there last night after Lady Arnifour fired you from the case?”

  “It’s an opium club,” I said without a hint of patience. “I’m sure you can extrapolate.”

  “Bollocks! Don’t lie to me.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” the young bobby spoke up. “It is an opium club.”

  “I know what the bloody hell it is, you twit!” he howled, forcing the young man to take an unconscious step backwards. “And I know that’s not why you were there. You two may be a lot of things,” he leered, “but you’re not blasted addicts. So what the hell were you doing there?”

  “Idle curiosity?” Colin shrugged, switching the weight to his other hand.

  “Bullshit! Warren Vandemier says you went there to harass his clientele and cause him physical and monetary harm.”

  “Now, Inspector, Warren Vandemier is an addict. I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now—”

  “That’s enough, Pendragon. I will drag your ass down to the Yard if I have to, but you will answer my questions!”

  “If you will just settle yourself a moment I think you’ll find that I’ve answered every one of your questions thus far.”

  “You’ve been dismissed from the Arnifour case, Pendragon, so I expect you to stand down from this business and let the real authorities settle things,” Varcoe snarled before he turned and stalked from the room.

  When I heard the door slam a second time in as many minutes, it was a monumental relief. “What in the bloody hell was that about?” I asked as I leaned forward and poured us some tea. “Why did he come here?”

  Colin turned back to the fireplace, but I could see that his eyes were unfocused. “I would venture we’re getting nearer to the truth and someone with attachments to the authorities has sent our impressionable inspector to rile us. Someone cunning enough to use him without his being aware of it.” He rubbed his chin absently. “Actually, whoever it is wouldn’t need to be that cunning.”

  I laughed. “So who do you think sent him?”

  His sapphire eyes drifted back to me as I handed him his tea. “There can only be three possibilities: Lady Arnifour, Warren Vandemier, or Abigail Roynton.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Our first stop was to visit Warren Vandemier in the hospital. We discovered that he’d broken his right femur, so if nothing else, he would prove to be a rapt audience. We found him in bed with a cast that went from his hip to the ankle of his right foot, the whole thing dangling from a sling bolted to the ceiling. Even so, he did not hesitate to make his repugnance clear the moment we strode onto the ward. “As if I’m not knackered enough already,” he groused.

  Colin perched on the end of his bed next to Mr. Vandemier’s plastered leg. “That’s the thanks we get for saving your life?” he sighed.

  There was much grumbling. “I see the two of you managed to escape without so much as a ruddy damn scratch.”

  “We did.” Colin shrugged. “Survival of the fittest and all that, I suppose. But we’re not here to compare wounds—only to ask a couple of questions.”

  “I’ve had it with your bloody questions. I told you that last night.”

  Colin appeared to ponder that before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think you did. Perhaps you’ve suffered some head trauma as well—”

  “Oh, just get on with it,” he seethed.

  “I’d like to know something about the Earl’s niece, Elsbeth. Did she ever threaten your club?”

  “Elsbeth?!” He looked surprised. “Now why would she do that? She partook on more than one occasion. Had a row with Samuel over it too.”

  “She tried opium?”

  “Bloody well right, she did. But Samuel was a hypocrite. Perfectly happy to make a regular of anyone who walked in the door so long as they weren’t related to him.”

  “Were you aware of anyone threatening your business? Threatening to burn it down?”

  “Just that stupid slag last night. Are you trying to blame the fire on somebody other than Li Shen? It’s your fault, you know! You plied that dragon whore with opium. You’re as guilty as she is.”

  “Settle down or I’ll see that you get a matching plaster on your other leg.”

  “Are you threatening me?!”

  “Not very well if you have to ask. Now I’m not talking about last night—”

  “Well, you sure as hell should be!” he snapped. “Because my life was as good as destroyed last night.”

  “This isn’t about you.”

  “The hell it isn’t!”

  Colin smiled thinly as he leaned toward Mr. Vandemier. “I’m only going to ask this one more time—”

  “I don’t give a crap. Shove whatever twaddle you’ve got on your mind straight up your ass.”

  Colin leaned back slowly, his eyes piercing Warren Vandemier’s face. He eased himself off the bed, one side of his mouth rising lazily, before reaching out and yanking the sling cradling Mr. Vandemier’s leg several feet. It took less than an instant before he let out a soulful scream, his eyes rolling up into his head.

  “Now don’t be crude.” Colin spoke softly. “Rudeness is redundant in a man like you.” He released the sling and let Mr. Vandemier’s leg drop back to its original position with a jolt. A second screech followed as we left the ward, a trio of nurses making a dash toward the noise.

  “That was a touch brutal,” I said once I’d caug
ht up to Colin.

  “He’s just lucky those damn nurses heard him scream.”

  “Well, did you at least learn something?”

  “Not what I wanted to hear,” he muttered, heading off down the street.

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “In the middle of London,” he answered with great exasperation as he stepped into the street to flag a passing cab.

  I bit my lip as I climbed aboard and Colin instructed the man to take us to the docks. It was time to see how the reunion of Michael and Angelyne would play out. I hoped it would be heartwarming, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was asunder.

  Colin climbed in next to me, turning and staring out the window as we got under way. It was clear there was much on his mind, so I determined the best thing I could do was leave him in peace and set my gaze on the passing scenery as well.

  Upon arriving, I glanced around the small crowd milling about the wharf to see if I could spot Michael before he could catch sight of us. Even though the Ilya Petrovina was making an unannounced call, there were dozens of people to greet her, not the least of whom were the policemen and Yardies who’d been sent by the Foreign Ministry Office to inquire about the alleged stowaways. I started to move off, keeping well away from the crowd, certain that Michael would also want to keep his distance from the authorities lest they decide to stop his sister from returning to his care. “Now don’t get ahead of me,” Colin warned as I crossed perpendicularly from where the people were milling.

  “I’m looking for Michael . . . ,” I answered vaguely.

  “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “We’ll scout the scene before we make our presence known, but not every East End boy is as deceitful as you obviously were,” he teased.

  “I was not deceitful,” I protested as we moved off in the opposite direction from where the Ilya Petrovina was set to berth. “I was clever.”

  “You were a drug-addled hellion.”

  I considered taking offense, but as I followed him behind a maze of crates and boxes littering the docks I decided now wasn’t the time for it. Besides, I’d been called worse things.