Death in the Setting Sun (31 page)

“Good. Well, do your best with Lady Georgiana. Remember that I will assist you if you get into difficulties.”

“It seems a pity for you to break cover.”

“I’ll have to do so one day,” Joe answered practically. It was a pleasant morning, not as bitingly cold as it had been, and John felt his spirits start to rise. Soon it would be March and the return of spring, and already in the gardens were the first signs of the earth’s awakening. Buds were swelling and he beheld clumps of snowdrops amongst the trees. He thought of Devon’s magnificent skylines in springtime and wished he could be there again, riding wild and free behind Elizabeth’s horse.

He smiled to himself. He always imagined her like that, leading him into adventure, never the other way round. Yet she had followed him to Gunnersbury and taken the most lowly job on the servants’ scale. She was indeed a truly magnificent woman and the Apothecary wondered what it was that stirred in his heart when he thought about her.

He put his hand in his pocket and felt the earring, drawing it out and looking at it. Then he had an idea and carefully put it back again. Quickening his pace, John Rawlings made his way determinedly to Gunnersbury House.

It was horribly hushed within, the servants speaking in whispers and everyone he could see in deepest black. John considered that they had donned mourning for Lord Hope and were now continuing for Lady Theydon. It seemed, however, that some of the quiet was caused by the fact that most of the party had gone out for a walk in the countryside, and that the house was pretty well deserted. His enquiry after Lady Georgiana elicited the reply that she was taking the air in the garden on the orders of her physician. Nodding discreetly, John made his way outside once more.

She was arranged in a bevy of cushions which had been placed on a metal seat, her very posture reminding him of a poem he had once read about melancholy; eyes lowered, head elegantly placed in a hand, shoulders drooping. Clearing his throat loudly, John approached.

She looked up at the sound and managed the faintest of smiles. “How do you do, Colonel?”

“Very well, thank you, Ma’am. May I sit down?”

She made no effort to move but indicated the seat opposite. “Yes, by all means. I cannot promise to be the soul of linguistic skill, however.”

“Never you mind,” John answered cheerily. “I can talk enough for the pair of us.”

Georgiana rolled her eyes slightly but gave him a wan smile as he took a seat across the way from hers.

There was a short silence, then she said, “You must forgive me, Colonel Melville. I am so deeply saddened.”

“But surely your path is now clear,” the Apothecary answered firmly.

She looked up, startled. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said surely your path is now clear to marry Michael O’Callaghan.”

Georgiana looked at him coldly. “How dare you say that? As I told you the other night, I no longer trust him.”

“As you know, Ma’am, I’m Richard Melville of His Majesty’s army. However, I undertake special duties on behalf of the government.” John adopted a mysterious look from his range of facial expressions. “So now I am going to speak to you very frankly, if I may.”

She made to get up and walk away but the Apothecary said, “It would be advisable that you remain, Lady Georgiana.”

She sat down again and shot him a furious glance. “Well?”

“The fact is that your affair with Mr. O’Callaghan is known and spoken of. Therefore it is my sad duty to ask you why you returned to the Grotto on the morning of your husband’s death, after your conversation with the actor. And do not pretend that Lord Hope was not within because I have a witness who will say to the contrary.”

She looked at him and her eyes were icy. “Who is this witness?”

“I am not at liberty to disclose that information. Suffice it to say that they are reliable.”

Lady Georgiana gazed down again, her hands in her lap, apparently wrestling with her innermost thoughts. Finally she gave him another cold stare.

“I went into the Grotto to meet my husband. I was going to ask him for a divorce.”

John’s mind boggled, knowing the enormous difficulties of achieving such an enterprise.

“Yes?” he said.

“He refused to give me one. Said I was his wife and so I would remain until his death. We quarrelled — did your witness tell you that?”

The Apothecary shook his head.

“Well, we did. Anyway, I flounced out and left him there, staring into the bathing pool. That was the last time I ever saw him alive.” She moved impatiently. “I never loved him, you know. My father arranged my marriage. I never cared for anyone until I met Michael. And now I’m not sure I even like him.”

“He’s a feckless devil but for all that he thinks the world of you.”

“Yes.” She gave a humourless laugh. “I’m sure he does. But that does not stop him being a murderer.” The Apothecary became businesslike. “So you are telling me that you quarrelled with your husband but that he was alive when you left him?”

“I’m telling you the truth. It may look black against me but that is what happened.”

John merely nodded, placing the ends of his fingers together. “Tell me, what did you do when you left the Grotto?”

“I went back to the house and then went for a walk.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, quite. I wanted to think about the future, about what we were going to do.” She looked John straight in the eye. “Tell me, Colonel, do you think Michael is guilty of murder?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“And me?”

“I don’t know that either.”

She nodded. “At least you tell the truth.”

“I wish that everybody did the same.” John reached in his pocket. “By the way, is this yours?”

She took the earring from him, holding it in her long pale fingers. “No. Where did you find it?”

“In the grounds,” he lied, thinking how easy it was for someone who was meant to be honest. “It was lying in the grass.”

Georgiana looked thoughtful. “It could be the Princess’s, though I’m not certain. She has so much jewellery that it’s difficult to know one piece from another.”

John stood up, indicating that their interview was at an end. Then he kissed her hand.

“You have been most helpful, Milady. I wish you good day.”

“Good day,” she answered, and watched him, shading her eyes with her hand, s he went back towards the house.
 

Chapter Twenty-Four

A
n atmosphere of intense gloom had settled over Gunnersbury House. Despite the fact that the walking party had returned it was nevertheless so quiet one could have heard a needle drop. The footmen, complete with black armbands, were talking in whispers, while the guests, about to go into luncheon, had an air of enormous restraint. Only the Honourable Gerald Naill, who had apparently stayed behind and knocked back most of a decanter of sherry, was oozing cheerfulness to all and sundry.

“How do, Melville,” he called in jolly fashion.

“Very well, thank you.”

“Care to join me in a drink?”

“No, not just at present. I must freshen up before luncheon.” And the Apothecary made his escape upstairs to the room which he had been allotted.

On the landing the silence was profound and the atmosphere terrifying. John, even though it was bright daylight, felt quite nervous as he made his way to his chamber past the place where the body of Lady Theydon lay, waiting the arrival of Sir John Fielding’s Fellows. Yet even as he drew level with the door his footsteps slowed and for some reason he found himself

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istening intently. In fact he even went so far as to stop outside for a moment or two.

Within, the candles that had been lit must have gone out, for there was no light coming from beneath. But there was a faint sound, a rustling as if somebody were turning over items, looking for something. John’s scalp seethed and he had a mental picture of Lady Theydon, complete with bloody wounds, risen from the dead and searching the room for an article she had once treasured. He steadied himself and gently opened the door.

The corpse lay where it had been placed on the bed, the sheet covering it starkly revealing the shape of Lady Theydon who lay beneath. There had clearly been no resurrection. But for all that, John could not help but draw back the cover and peer beneath. He saw to his horror that one of the corpse’s eyes had opened and was staring at him with a baleful glance. He hurriedly drew the sheet back again, leaving the dead woman to wink in peace.

But opening drawers and searching light-fingeredly within, her back turned to the Apothecary who had entered noiselessly, was Lady Hampshire. John stood watching her in amazement, seeing the dexterity with which she riffled amongst the clothes, until eventually she made a little sound of triumph and withdrew a ring box. Opening it, still with her back turned, she took out a ring and placed it on her finger, which she twisted hither and thither in the light, lost in admiration. From where he stood the Apothecary let out a deliberate cough and the woman spun round, clutching her heart.

She gazed at him, a look of terror on her face. “Oh, Colonel Melville,” she managed to gasp. “I thought…”

“That the dead had risen? No, Madam, it is only me. May I ask what you were doing just now?”

She clutched her throat. “Oh, I’m going to faint, I feel certain of it. Help, Sir. I’m falling.”

John caught her as she went down, thinking to himself that she was a truly exceptional actress. However, he went through the motions of bringing her round, holding his salts so close to her nostrils that she coughed violently, her eyes opening wide.

“Oh, my dear Sir,” she said feebly, “be so good as to see me back to my chamber.”

John suddenly felt irritated beyond belief, sick of being ordered around by foolish women. The need to find the killer was of paramount importance. Seizing Lady Hampshire by the upper arm he thrust her into a chair.

“First,” he said, a definite edge to his voice, “you will tell me what you were doing in here.”

She made a
moue.
“As a matter of fact I came to recover a ring I had loaned …” Her voice dropped to a murmur. “… Lady Theydon.”

“Why now? Why with the dead woman still in the room? I think the truth is that you had taken a fancy to something of hers and were determined to have it, paying scant respect to the recently departed.”

Her once-beautiful eyes narrowed. “If you accuse me of theft then I shall accuse you of murder.”

“Accuse away. I was the only one who didn’t leave the room when Lady Theydon was killed. I stayed where I was and was visible all the time to the footmen.”

“A likely tale,” she sneered.

John took a chance. “I think you got the habit of stealing before you became an actress and that it has stayed with you ever since. I also believe that you have been pilfering from Lady Theydon for some time and the ring was one thing you were determined to have.” Her face took on a look of malice. “So what if I did? Lady Theydon would have left me the ring if she had lived to make a will.”

“How do you know that she hasn’t? No doubt her lawyers in London would be able to enlighten you.”

She changed from spiteful creature to supplicant in the wink of an eye. “Oh, Colonel, I beg you not to reveal my shame. It is true that I longed for that ring — see, there it is on my finger. Don’t you think it looks fine? But I would never have killed for it, I assure you. Indeed, Lady Theydon promised it to me, I swear it.” Until that moment it had never occurred to John that Lady Hampshire would go so far as to murder to obtain something bright and sparkling, but now the idea came with full force. Staring at her he could see a wild gleam in her eye when she spoke about the jewel. The wild gleam of someone who could not help themselves and who would go to any lengths to obtain their desire.

“Very well, I won’t tell anybody about what you have just done. Now, put the ring back and we’ll forget it.”

She took it off, reluctantly, but he could see by the slightly crazy expression in her eye that she would be back for it.

Having escorted Milady to her room, John went to his own. There he washed his face and hands in cold water and was just about to go down to luncheon when his door opened. The Apothecary turned in surprise from the basin to see Elizabeth framed in the doorway. “My dear girl,” he said, “what are you doing here?” She pulled a face. “I’m emptying the slops.”