‘That’s exactly it, Miss Taylor. The evidence now suggests that he was in fact an impostor – someone impersonating the second son in order to claim the title and fortune.’
‘But – that’s impossible!’ exclaimed Billy. ‘Surely people would have realised that he wasn’t the same man!’
‘Remember that the real Beaucastle was little more than a boy when he left – and he would likely have been changed a great deal by army life,’ said McDermott. ‘Fifteen years is a long time.’
‘But he would have had to provide proofs of his identity, wouldn’t he?’ asked Song shrewdly, as he dished up another plate of dumplings. ‘He would have had to convince the family lawyers that he was who he said he was.’
‘And apparently he did provide proofs – convincing ones, too,’ said McDermott, taking a dumpling from the plate and blowing on it to cool it a little. ‘Likely they were forged papers, such as a birth certificate.’
‘Like those papers I saw in the secret room!’ Sophie remembered. ‘I saw a whole sheaf of them – there were birth certificates, marriage certificates, all kinds of things. They were all different identities – different people!’
‘So he was just shamming all the time?’ exclaimed Mr Devereaux in disgust. ‘I say, what a frightful cad!’
‘So we haven’t discovered who the Baron is at all!’ said Sophie. ‘He wasn’t Lord Beaucastle – that was just another mask . . .’
She felt utterly crestfallen. She had been so sure that they were exposing the truth, but it was nothing more than another piece of the Baron’s theatre. Everything they had done had been for nothing.
‘That may be true,’ said McDermott. ‘But it doesn’t mean that what you have achieved is not of enormous value. Thanks to you, we have managed to arrest a dozen of his men, not to mention two of his closest associates – Freddie Marvell, the butler, sometimes known as John Cooper, who has eluded us once before, and Henry Snow, the scientist who worked with him. They are all going to have a good deal of useful information to give to my colleagues at Scotland Yard.’
‘You’ll have a job to get the Baron’s Boys to tell you anything,’ said Joe, thoughtfully. ‘But I hope you’ll lock ’em up and throw away the key. It’s no more than Jem and the rest deserve.’
‘We shall see,’ said McDermott thoughtfully. ‘I believe that “the Baron’s Boys”, such as they are, will cease to exist as of tonight. The Baron has fled – their leader and most of the gang are behind bars – what use is their loyalty now?’
‘China Town won’t have to worry about them any longer,’ said Song, grinning at Mei.
‘That’s right,’ said McDermott. ‘But what’s more, together you have torn down the carefully constructed identity that the Baron has spent years refining and perfecting. You have lost him access to some tremendous assets – the Beaucastle fortune and estates, an influential position in society, which he has no doubt used to his own personal advantage – and the chance to secure the Whiteley mines for his own. All that is gone now. He’ll never be able to appear as “Lord Beaucastle” again.’
Sophie suddenly looked over at Lil. ‘That’s it!’ she burst out. ‘That’s what Emily Montague discovered. The secret she found out on the day of the garden party, the day that she stole the jewelled moth. She must have learned that Lord Beaucastle wasn’t the real Lord Beaucastle.’
‘Golly – you’re right!’ exclaimed Lil. She looked at McDermott. ‘Miss Montague’s maid told us that Emily had found out a big secret about Lord Beaucastle that she planned to use to blackmail him. I suppose he couldn’t risk the truth getting out – especially when he was so close to becoming engaged to Miss Whiteley, and to getting his hands on her father’s mines.’
McDermott nodded. ‘You may well be right,’ he said. ‘The mines, by the way, seem to be a particularly interesting business, and you were spot on in your assessment of the Baron’s plans. It seems that, with Mr Snow’s help, he had identified that a particular rare mineral could be used to create very powerful incendiary weapons – explosives unlike anything we have seen before. This mineral is only found in a very few places, notably your father’s mines, Miss Whiteley. He determined to take control of the mines and use the mineral to manufacture deadly weapons, which could then be sold to governments around the world – at quite a price, of course. Happily for you and your family, Miss Whiteley, he won’t have that chance now.’
‘But what will happen about the mineral?’ asked Billy, curiously.
‘I suppose that is up to Mr Whiteley,’ said Mr McDermott. ‘I am sure he’ll be contacted very soon by Scotland Yard’s scientists. Personally I hope that it will prove to have the potential to be used for purposes other than warfare.’
Veronica nodded slowly, but across the table from her, Joe was frowning. War and weapons did not interest him much; but what did puzzle him was the Baron’s behaviour. ‘What I don’t understand is why he came to the East End tonight,’ he said. ‘All right, so the Baron – whoever he really is – he finds out that the real Lord Beaucastle has died, and sees an opportunity to fake it and claim his fancy title and great big fortune. He manages to pull the wool over the lawyers’ eyes, spends years pretending to be Beaucastle and enjoying all his money. At the same time, he’s running his rackets out of the East End, taking special care to protect his Lord Beaucastle identity and make sure that there’s no chance of anyone making a connection between him and the Baron. He plays it safe for so long – so why did he risk it all by coming to the East End tonight, just to get hold of those papers?’
‘A very good question,’ said McDermott. ‘My guess is he was getting anxious. He’s a clever fellow – he must have known that Scotland Yard were on his tail. Since what happened at Sinclair’s in the spring, they’ve been tightening their net around the Baron. I myself had been in Paris, following a trail that pointed to a link between the Baron and someone high up in society on Scotland Yard’s behalf. And then of course, poor Miss Montague had already come close to uncovering his most closely guarded secret.’
‘It’s not that I can’t see him wanting us at the bottom of the river, where we couldn’t tell anyone what we’d discovered,’ said Joe. ‘But why not let his Boys deal with us, and stay safe at Miss Whiteley’s party?’
‘I think it was because of you, Sophie,’ said Lil, suddenly. ‘He spoke as if he knew you.’
‘Or if not me, then my parents,’ said Sophie soberly; and she told them about the photograph she had seen in the Baron’s study.
McDermott forgot all about his pipe. ‘A photograph of your parents? Are you quite sure of that?’
‘Sophie! ’ exclaimed Lil. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t say anything about a picture!’
‘Well, what with getting shot at, and clambering over rooftops, and being held at knifepoint by the Baron, there wasn’t exactly a great deal of time!’ Then she went on in a different tone of voice: ‘Besides, it’s just so strange. I don’t know what to make of it at all . . .’
Her voice trailed away, but at that moment, Mr Perks came through the door, carrying several jugs of ale he had brought from the Star Inn, Mr and Mrs Lim and the others following behind him. Whilst the ale was being poured out, and more food was being passed around, Mr McDermott took the opportunity to turn to Veronica.
‘Miss Whiteley, I managed to reach your father on the telephone. I’ve told him that you – and Miss Woodhouse and the others – are quite safe and sound.’
‘Thank you, Mr McDermott,’ said Veronica, in rather a small voice. She sighed unhappily. ‘I suppose he was awfully angry. I’ve disgraced myself, I know. Running away from my own debutante ball! My reputation will be utterly ruined!’
‘Well, I have to admit that he did sound rather – distressed,’ said Mr McDermott carefully. ‘And I believe it was your stepmother I could hear in the background? But his first concern was for your safety.’ He paused for a moment, contemplating her, then went on: ‘I also managed to have a few words with Mr Sin
clair, who happily was still at the party. He undertook to explain matters a little further to your father and stepmother. I am sure that he will be able to convince them that what you did was not at all disgraceful – but in fact extremely brave. I cannot think of many debutantes who would head into the night to rescue their friends from a notorious East End criminal.’
‘But – but debutantes aren’t supposed to be brave,’ wailed Veronica. ‘They’re supposed to be prim and proper!’
Across the room, Mr Devereaux was jovially accepting a glass of ale from Mr Perks. ‘Oh I don’t know,’ he said, hearing this. ‘That’s all a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it? Speaking for myself, I’d much rather dance with a jolly girl with a bit of pluck than a prim miss without a word to say for herself – wouldn’t you, Pendleton?’
‘Too right I would, old bean!’ said Pendleton, waving his glass of ale enthusiastically and gazing at Lil so admiringly across the table that Joe sat up in his chair, looking alarmed.
‘Besides,’ added Mary to Veronica, ‘imagine how much worse things might have been. Why, you’d have been engaged to a criminal by now! Just think what everyone would have said about that.’
‘Gosh,’ agreed Phyllis. ‘That’s right. We could have been toasting your betrothal at this very moment. Thank goodness we’re here instead – and anyway, I think this is just as jolly as a ball.’
‘And so it is!’ said Pendleton. He turned to Lil: ‘But it’s a dashed shame that we never got any more dances. I say . . . might I escort you to a dance next week? There’s going to be a party at The Ritz on Friday – perhaps you would do me the pleasure of accompanying me?’
Lil grinned. ‘Thanks awfully for the invitation, Mr Pendleton. It’s very kind of you to ask. But I’m going to be rather busy for the next few weeks practising for my audition for Mr Lloyd’s new play – and besides, I think I’ve had enough of high society for a while.’
Next to her, Joe swigged his ale casually, trying not to look too relieved.
Across the table, Veronica found that Mei was sitting beside her. All at once, she remembered that she was still wearing the jewelled moth. With some difficulty, she unpinned it from her shoulder.
‘I think this belongs to you,’ she said, holding it out.
Mei took it in awe, holding it in cupped hands. She looked over at her father. ‘The Moonbeam Diamond!’ she breathed.
‘What will you do with it?’ asked Billy, curiously.
Mr Lim leaned over, and gently lifted the moth from his daughter’s hand. He raised it up to the light, where it glinted brilliantly. ‘It’s truly a beautiful piece of work,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘But for us, it’s the diamond that matters. If you are really willing to give it up, we should like to have it removed and to return it to the temple.’
‘But – but wouldn’t you rather sell it?’ asked Veronica in astonishment, looking again at the many signs of poverty she saw all around her.
Mei shook her head. ‘Of course not. It’s special – we couldn’t do that.’ For a moment, she hesitated. She had never really thought about what would happen once they got the diamond back. She had supposed they would keep it, so that it would protect them. But she saw that Dad was right. The diamond should be returned to the monks, as Granddad would have wanted. Besides, she reflected, looking around them, it had been the people of China Town and their new friends, in the end, who had protected them from the Baron’s Boys – not a magic jewel.
‘But how will you get it to the monks?’ Billy was asking with interest.
‘On his last voyage to China, my brother brought back word that the monks had begun to rebuild the temple in our old village,’ explained Mr Lim. ‘He should be able to return it to them. Perhaps I might even go with him. It would be good to see our old home again.’
‘If we take out the diamond, then you could have your brooch back,’ Mrs Lim said to Veronica, more practically. ‘I’m sure a jeweller could replace it with another stone. It’s such a fine piece.’
Veronica shook her head. ‘Oh no – I don’t want it back. I don’t want to see it ever again,’ she said, eyeing it mistrustfully. She knew that the moth would always remind her of Lord Beaucastle – or the Baron, as she supposed she ought now to call him – and of Emily Montague. She shivered. ‘You keep it,’ she said hurriedly to Mei and Mrs Lim. ‘Maybe you could sell the other stones. They must be worth something. And if you don’t want the money, then perhaps you could use it to help the other people here, after what the Baron did.’
Mei smiled at her in surprise, and Veronica found herself grinning back.
They were all still there in the early hours of the morning, no one wanting to be the first to bring the celebration to an end. The champagne bottles were empty now, but there was still tea in the pot and Mrs Lim was talking about the different ways they might use the money raised from the sale of the jewelled moth to help the people of China Town. Mr Lim and Mr McDermott were discussing the possible voyage to China, whilst Billy scribbled down a few last notes in his exercise book, which now had a title boldly inscribed upon its cover: CASE NOTES: THE MYSTERY OF THE JEWELLED MOTH .
Across the room, Mary and Phyllis were feeding the green parrot with sunflower seeds, whilst Song was talking enthusiastically to Mr Pendleton and Mr Devereaux about the West End’s best restaurants. Meanwhile, Joe, who had drained his glass of ale rather quickly, had made up his mind to say something to Lil.
‘Er . . .’ he began awkwardly. ‘I know you said you were going to be busy with your audition practice and all, but well – if you need a break from rehearsing, wouldyouliketotakeawalkalongtheriverwithmeoneevening ?’ he burst out all in a rush. ‘We could get an ice, or something like that?’ he added uncertainly.
Lil looked at him. Her dark eyes were sparkling with mischief. ‘Just you and me?’ she asked.
He nodded, his cheeks beginning to flush red.
‘Well . . .’ she said, looking cheekier than ever. ‘I think that sounds rather nice.’
Sophie smiled to herself. From where she was sitting at one end of the long table she was aware of the conversations going on all around her, but had no desire to join any of them. It was very late, and she was beginning to feel very sleepy. It had been such a peculiar evening, she reflected, as she stroked Mei’s white cat, which had jumped up on to her knee and was now purring happily in her lap. She supposed that tomorrow everything would go back to normal, just as it had after their last adventure. They were done with being detectives.
Yet all the same, she felt sure that she had not seen the last of the Baron. She thought of what he had said to her on the dockside, just before he shot out the lights. This time she knew that he wasn’t going to forget about her anytime soon, and not just because she had exposed him. Rather unwillingly, she turned her mind back to the mysterious photograph she had glimpsed in his study: the Baron as a young man, smiling alongside the unmistakable faces of Mama and Papa. The very thought of her father being mixed up with someone like the Baron was so awful that she pushed it away at once. It surely couldn’t have been that they had known him – that they had ever been friends?
Sophie was still thinking about the photograph several days later, back in the Millinery Department at Sinclair’s. The store was as busy as ever. She saw that a little crowd of debutantes had gathered to examine a new display of the very latest hats from Paris.
‘I say, isn’t the news about Lord Beaucastle fearfully shocking,’ one girl was saying, as she tried on a hat with a big green bow. ‘Papa says it’s an utter disgrace.’
‘I heard that he was just about to become engaged to Veronica Whiteley,’ said another girl, raising her eyebrows.
‘Oh no, that was just a rumour,’ said the first girl authoritatively. ‘I heard that all the time Veronica had been secretly engaged to Hugo Devereaux. They ran away from her coming-out ball together.’
‘No you’ve got it all wrong!’ exclaimed the girl in the frilly gown. ‘It’s Phyllis Woodhouse who is secretly enga
ged to Mr Devereaux. My sister saw them together in his motor!’
Sophie turned away to hide her smile, just as the cheeky porter appeared beside the counter. ‘Parcel for you, Miss Taylor!’ he announced, handing her a small square packet, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. ‘Sending you presents now, your young gentleman?’ he teased as he went on his way. ‘He must be getting serious, I reckon.’
Sophie laughed and shook her head at him, and then turned her attention to the parcel. To her astonishment, when she had untied the string and pulled off the wrappings she found the Baron’s face looking up at her – and there beside him, her mama and papa. It was the framed photograph from the Baron’s laboratory! With it, she found a brief note.
Cairo, 1890! Sophie knew her papa had travelled a good deal – but he had never once spoken about Egypt. What on earth could it all mean?
But even as she stood there at the counter, staring at the photograph, a lady that she recognised slightly came hurrying over to her. She had a very purposeful expression on her face.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ she began, sounding rather anxious. ‘I’m Eleanor Jenkins. I work in the Toy Department. You are Miss Taylor, aren’t you?’
‘Yes – I’m Sophie Taylor,’ said Sophie, hurriedly wrapping the brown paper back around the photograph.
‘I hope you don’t mind me coming to you like this,’ said Miss Jenkins, looking more worried than ever. ‘I know you’re busy, but I wanted to ask for your help at once. It – it’s urgent, you see.’
Sophie was confused. Had there been some problem in the Toy Department? She couldn’t quite see how she was going to be able to help. Seeing the expression on her face, Miss Jenkins hesitated. ‘You are the young lady who solves mysteries, aren’t you?’ she asked. ‘You and Miss Rose – you’re the detectives?’
Sophie gazed back at her in surprise for several long moments. Then she nodded decisively. ‘Yes that’s right,’ she said. ‘Tell me, Miss Jenkins – what can we do to help?’
The Mystery of the Jewelled Moth Page 22
