by Kari Bovee
“But now that we have gotten off the ship, how can we track down who killed Mr. Bhakta and wrote the notes? It all seems to be unraveling,” Emma said.
A memory flashed into Annie’s mind. “There might be a connection after all, Emma. Do you remember when you got out of the coach at Trafalgar Square the day we went to visit Miss Parnell and Miss Brady at the asylum?”
“Yes, you were not pleased, I recall.”
“I wasn’t. But as we pulled away, I saw a woman standing among the crowd, dressed all in black. I thought she looked familiar, and now, I just remembered who she is.”
“Well, spill it, darling. The suspense is killing me.”
“Madame Mattei.”
“The old woman? Who never left her stateroom, like a vampire?” Emma asked.
“Yes, I could swear it was her I saw at Trafalgar Square. She said she wouldn’t be staying in London, but traveling on to Belgium. Why would she lie? Why would she be with the malcontents at Trafalgar Square?”
Mr. Post’s familiar whistle echoed through Annie’s tent. “I have to go to practice, Emma. Perhaps Lillie and Mr. Everett have returned. I guess the colonel is hopping mad.”
“That girl really has a lot of nerve, doesn’t she?”
“You have no idea. She tests my patience on a daily basis.” Annie swallowed down the last of her tea. She stood and secured her gun belt in place once more.
“But I guess the colonel and Mr. Salisbury would be fools to replace her. She’s right on your heels as the sweetheart of the Wild West Show.” Emma raised her teacup to her lips, a teasing light shining from her eyes.
“You realize I’m carrying a gun,” Annie said.
“I’ll have the medicine checked, dear.” Emma raised her teacup in a toast.
“And I’ll make a visit to Trafalgar Square after practice,” said Annie, throwing her duster over her arm.
Annie went to the stables to retrieve Buck. He was tied to a hitching post, dozing, while Mr. Post, sitting on a barrel nearby, gnawed on an apple.
“The colonel cancelled practice. He’s mad as a blue hornet at Miss Smith for not turning up,” he said, spitting some seeds out of his mouth.
“How is Old Charlie feeling?”
Mr. Post pointed to one of the corrals where Charlie stood dozing in the sun.
“He’s fine. Just getting old. I think he needs his teeth filed—doesn’t seem to want to eat much these days. The colonel is right upset about it.”
“I can understand that.” Annie unfurled her reins from the hitching post. “Do you suppose Mr. Everett and Lillie are together?” Annie didn’t know how she felt about the prospect. Although she didn’t want Hulda involved with the handsome veterinarian, she also didn’t want Hulda’s feelings hurt by her “friend” Lillie.
“That girl could corrupt just about anyone, I suppose. I hope for his sake they aren’t. He’s probably off just enjoying the exhibition—Lord knows there is a lot going on around here. Downright distracting. It’s been a frustration for the colonel with you off at the palace, Lillie carousing around, the Indians scattered all over the place, and the cowboys at the whorehouses.”
Annie stifled a smile. The poor colonel. “Well, you tell him I hope to be back in a few days—well before the queen’s performance. It will all come together.”
Annie shot some practice rounds with Bobby, and then sought out Red Shirt and Black Elk for a quick visit. She found the two chiefs seated by a fire they had made. She spent some time talking with them and afterwards, anxious to see if she could locate Madame Mattei, headed back toward the palace.
The streets of London were full of excitement as people traversed the parks, either on foot or in gleaming carriages. Street vendors sold peanuts and sweets. People stared at Annie in her American Western garb as she trotted in her Western saddle with its gleaming silver trim. Everyone else she saw riding in the park used English style saddles. Annie paid them no mind, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that had started with Mr. Bhakta, included Frank, and ended with the threat of an assassination attempt on the queen.
She passed by the palace and headed toward Trafalgar Square. The people encamped at the base of the monument sat on the steps or huddled in their makeshift tents. Some of the women had made fires under hanging kettles.
She and Buck walked the area for three quarters of an hour, looking for Madame Mattei, but saw no sign of her. Emma agreed to come to the square in the coming days for her story, and would also be on the lookout for the old lady in black.
Annie returned to the mews and deposited Buck with Miss Tessen, who greeted her at Buck’s stall. Distracted by her thoughts, Annie did not make conversation with her but strode briskly back to the palace.
She nodded to Mr. Ingle, who stood stationed next to the Belgium Suite, and entered to find Frank dressed in his favorite black slacks, white shirt, and red-and-black waistcoat, reading the paper.
“Don’t you look back to yourself,” Annie said, her heart filled with happiness at seeing Frank completely restored.
“I even took a walk around the palace today,” Frank said, sounding joyful.
“Did Hulda have a nice day?” Annie asked, heading toward her sister’s room.
“I haven’t seen her since she left for the park this morning. I thought perhaps she was with you,” Frank said.
“No, she wasn’t with me.” Annie raced back to the door. “Mr. Ingle. Mr. Ingle. Have you seen my sister?”
Mr. Ingle came to the opened door, his posture erect, hands behind his back. “Not since this morning, madam. I arranged a carriage ride for her in the park. She has not returned.”
“Oh, Frank, what is that girl up to? I can’t leave her for a minute!”
“Calm down, darling,” Frank said, gently taking her by the arms. “You should not get overwrought.”
Annie shook off his hands. “Frank, this is no time to coddle me. I feel fine. But I have to find my sister.”
“Let’s go see if we can find her.”
“Mr. Ingle, may we have permission to peruse the palace?” Annie asked.
“Certainly, but I must accompany you.”
“I’d like to see if perhaps Mr. Patel has seen her. Would you take us to his quarters?”
Despite his stoic nature, Mr. Ingle’s already stern expression visibly soured at the mention of Mr. Patel.
“If you insist,” he said.
When they reached Mr. Patel’s room, they found several people there, including Dr. Adams.
Mr. Patel was seated at his table, undergoing verbal interrogation by the other two men in the room, one of medium stature with a square head that somewhat resembled an icebox, and the other who was taller and reedy with pale hair and the light eyes of a ferret. Both looked to be palace officials by their uniforms.
“What is the meaning of this?” said Mr. Ingle, pushing past Dr. Adams.
“He is being questioned,” said Dr. Adams in a whisper. “What’s happened?” asked Annie. Dr. Adams turned to face Annie and Frank.
“I came to see Mr. Patel, to inquire after Mr. Butler, who was not in his room,” he said, still in a hushed tone. “Mr. Patel offered me tea, and when he reached onto the shelf to pull down the tea tin, this fell to the floor.” Dr. Adams held up the remains of a tear catcher, almost identical to the one Annie had found on the ship. “And there was a note inside.” He handed it to Annie.
“The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.” She lowered the note. “More contradiction.”
“Blake, I presume,” said the doctor. “I excused myself for a moment and alerted the palace officials. I believe Mr. Patel murdered Mr. Bhakta, and may have reason to harm the queen.”
“But that can’t be true, Dr. Adams,” said Annie. “Mr. Bhakta saved Mr. Patel’s life, during the Indian rebellion.”
“It is not true,” said Mr. Patel. “I would never harm Mr. Bhakta, or Her Majesty. Someone has been i
n my room. I have proof—my necklace, the medal I wear around my neck, is missing.”
“Quiet,” said the heftier guard. The taller one was writing furiously in a notebook.
“It’s about time,” said Mr. Ingle under his breath.
The taller official turned to him. “Do you know something, sir? Who are you?”
“I work for the queen’s household. My name is Ingle. I have been assigned as personal butler to Mr. Butler and Miss Oakley.”
“What did you mean, ‘it’s about time?’”
“It is the opinion of many of Her Majesty’s servants that Mr. Patel expected to take the position of personal assistant to the queen when Mr. Bhakta died. He was overheard saying as much to one of his Indian cronies. The queen has replaced Mr. Bhakta with an English servant. I’m sure Mr. Patel resented being passed over.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Mr. Patel. “I said nothing of the kind.”
“Does this tear catcher belong to you?” The tall guard asked Mr. Patel.
“I’ve never seen it in my life. I tell you, someone was in my room. They planted it here.”
The guard turned to Dr. Adams. “You say this resembles the tear catcher found on the ship?”
Dr. Adams nodded. “It does. As does the note inside. Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Oakley?”
They all turned to face Annie, who stood staring, mouth agape. She couldn’t deny they looked the same. “Well, yes, but I am sure many people have similar tear catchers. What’s important is what might be inside the thing. Dr. Adams was able to determine that the substance inside the tear catcher was poison. The same analysis should be done on this one.”
“And the handwriting on the notes compared,” added Frank.
“Do you still have this item that was found on the ship?” the guard asked the doctor.
“We turned it in when we reached London. To the police. They had another individual in custody for the crime,” said Annie, the pain of accusing Miss Brady coming back to her.
The tall guard scribbled on his pad. “Who was this individual?”
Annie told him the story of what happened.
“Very well. You all might be further questioned by the police,” he said, snapping shut his pad of paper and placing the pencil behind his ear. “Until more can be determined, Mr. Patel here will be in custody of the London police.”
“But what if he is telling the truth?” said Annie. “What if someone did plant it here. He said his medal was stolen.”
The bulky guard took Mr. Patel by the arm, forcing him to stand. “It will all get sorted out.”
“I did not commit these crimes,” Mr. Patel said, his eyes imploring Annie’s. “I did not.”
Annie and Frank bid Dr. Adams good night after he’d made some inquiry into their health. He seemed satisfied with their answers.
“I have the strong sense Mr. Patel is telling the truth, Frank,” Annie said. “I can feel it in my gut.”
“I agree. He looked truly surprised.”
“Yes. And so sincere in his conviction that he’d been set up.”
Mr. Ingle took them back to the main gallery in search of Hulda. Not finding her, they decided to go back to the Belgium Suite to see if she’d returned. They opened the door to find Hulda sitting at the table in the reception room playing cards with Lillie.
“Hulda! Where have you been?” asked Annie, marching over to her, “I’ve been beside myself with worry. And what is Lillie doing here?”
“Hey, doll,” Lillie said, smirking at her.
Hulda stood up, taking hold of Annie’s hand. “I’m fine, Annie. As you can see. Mr. Ingle arranged a carriage for me to see the park again. While I was there, I saw Lillie and—”
Lillie snorted. When Annie glared at her, she cast her eyes back down to her cards, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.
“And Mr. Everett?” Annie said, trying to maintain calm.
“Yes, but Lillie was with us the whole time. When the carriage driver returned us to the palace, I got special permission from Mr. Stanley for Lillie to come back with me. To keep me company. He cleared it with the guards and everything,” Hulda said.
“Lillie is a far cry from an appropriate chaperone, Hulda.” She turned to Lillie. “Why won’t you leave her alone?”
Lillie shrugged. “I’m not that bad, Annie. I thought we were friends.”
“Lillie, you missed practice today. The colonel is furious. We are performing for the queen in less than a week. He and Mr. Salisbury are beside themselves with anxiety over it. And you continue to set a bad example for Hulda. Mr. Everett is far too old for her. What were you thinking?” Annie realized her voice had raised a few octaves. Her hands shook, and she could feel her heartbeat pulsating up to her ears.
Frank came up behind Annie and put his hands on her shoulders. “It’s been a long day, Annie.”
“It has, Frank,” Annie said.
“Don’t raise your voice to me, Annie. Hulda, you have caused your sister a good deal of distress with your behavior. Go to your room.” Frank said.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Hulda’s face pinched with indignation.
“Show some respect, Hulda!”
“Calm down, both of you,” Frank commanded.
Annie couldn’t abide her sister sassing her husband, nor her husband telling her to calm down. She wanted to scream. She placed both palms against the sides of her head and paced the floor, incensed that their stay at the palace had come to this humiliation.
Frank, Lillie, and Hulda remained silent, watching her as if she were a raving lunatic—which, at the moment, she was.
“Hulda, you had no right to invite a guest to the palace, nor do you have the right to disrespect my husband. Lillie, go back to Earl’s Court—now. I don’t care if you have to walk. Hulda, you go straight to bed, and Frank, help me pack. We are leaving in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Annie awoke in Frank’s arms. She lay staring at the swirling dust motes that danced in the shaft of sunlight peeking through the heavy brocaded curtains. She had not slept well and had only fallen asleep a few hours earlier when Frank had reached out to comfort her. The stillness of the morning and the steady rhythm of Frank’s breathing gave her some solace as she tried to sort out all that had transpired since they’d departed from New York.
How could she have so failed with Hulda? Had she left her at home, would she be giving her mother fits? She thought getting away from the show for a few days would be good for Hulda—and would also allow them to spend some time together. But it had all gone wrong.
At least Frank’s health had improved. She couldn’t be sure if whatever ailed him had just run its course, as Mr. Everett had said it would if Frank had contracted the illness from the algae, or if Dr. Adams, or someone through him, had set out to harm Frank because of his alleged association with Irish unrest.
She felt him stir beside her.
“Have you been awake long?” he asked, kissing the top of her head.
“No.”
“Penny for them.”
Annie sighed. “I was just thinking about Hulda. What kind of a mother am I going to be if I can’t seem to do right by my sister?”
Frank stroked her arm. “You will be an excellent mother. Hulda is going through what many young people do at her age. She’s just testing the waters.”
“Testing me, more like.”
“That too.” A chuckle reverberated through Frank’s chest.
“And I can’t help feeling sorry for Mr. Patel. He spoke so fondly of Mr. Bhakta. I have trouble believing he would have killed him.” Annie propped herself up on an elbow. “What do you think?”
Frank rolled on his side to face her, adjusting the pillow more securely under his neck.
“I think we will know more when it is determined what was in the tear catcher. Viper venom is a very unusual type of poison. There are so many others that are much more readily available. And he does have the connection
with Sri Lanka where the particular viper hails from. Or. . . .” Frank raised himself on an elbow. “Dr. Adams only claimed the poison was viper venom. It could have been something else. Maybe he wanted to make Mr. Patel look guilty.”
Annie shook her head. “We’re missing something. It all seems such a jumble—but one thing is sure.”
“What is that?” Frank asked, smiling at her.
“You are returned to me, Frank Butler, and I am so grateful.” She leaned into him and kissed him. She had missed their tender embraces, their lovemaking. Frank must have missed it too, because he kissed her back with the passion she so fondly remembered, crushed her body to his, and then pulled the covers over their heads.
They woke again a couple of hours later, dressed, and summoned Mr. Ingle to tell him they wished to return to Earl’s Court. When he offered to have breakfast sent to their suite, they readily agreed.
While they dined on cheese, bread, boiled oatmeal, and bacon, Hulda came out of her room looking sheepishly chastened.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you yesterday, Annie. Must we really leave the palace?”
Annie cast a glance at Frank and he winked at her.
“I accept your apology,” Annie said, using an authoritative but compassionate tone, “but, yes, we are leaving the palace. I think it would help the colonel to have us all in one place.”
“So it’s not just because of me?” Hulda asked, worry lining her brow.
“Not entirely,” Annie assured her.
They heard a knock on the door, and Mr. Ingle and the royal physician entered the reception room.
“Mr. Butler, the royal physician would like to see you again before you go,” said Mr. Ingle.
“By all means,” said Frank rising from the table. “Please come in.”
“No need to get up,” said the doctor. “I can see you are much improved.” He came over to the table and reached for Frank’s wrist. He pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat and studied it while he took Frank’s pulse.
“I think you’ll be fine,” he said.
“I feel great. Better than I have in weeks.”
