Sonnet to a Dead Contessa (36 page)

Dylan had stared at the poem for more than an hour. He had gotten up and walked the floor until he had it in his memory. He had always been a quick study, and now the poem went through his mind over and over and over again.

Finally he began to pray. “Lord, my mind won’t handle this. I need help. Somebody will die if we do not stop it.” He continued to pray, and then suddenly a thought came to him that he had never had before. He stared at the poem, then quickly left the room and went into Matthew’s office. Matthew was working late, and he looked up in surprise.

“What is it, Dylan?”

“I need to look at your map of England, the big one.”

“There it is on the wall. What is it?”

Dylan did not answer. He darted over to the map. He looked over it quickly, and almost at once he put his finger on a section of the map. “I’ve got it, I think, Matthew! I know who the next victim will be.”

Matthew came to his feet, his eyes bright. “What do you mean?”

“Look, the poem says the river holds the town with a crooked arm. Look at this. See this small town of Trent? A river surrounds it.”

Matthew gasped. “You don’t mean you think Serafina will be the next victim?”

“I think so. It says a noble lady will die on the day she is born. Today is Serafina’s birthday. The last two lines say, ‘In midsummer she will cease to be.’”

“Midsummer—that’s a quarter day.” The two men stared at each other, and Dylan said, “Look at the last line. ‘Scotland Yard will never see.’ He’s daring us. He’s telling us what he’s going to do.”

“We’ve got to get out there before it’s too late.”

The two men rushed out, and Matthew bellowed loudly until a cab stopped in front of them. “I’ll tell you how to get there.”

The carriage raced down the road, and from time to time Matthew stuck his head out the window. “Hurry, man! Kill that horse if you have to!”

Dylan had not said a word. The Slasher had given them the information, but they had been blind and had not seen it.

“God, keep her safe. Keep her safe,” he murmured over and over again, and a great fear came into his heart as he realised how much Serafina meant to him.

TWENTY-FOUR

S
erafina had spent the afternoon playing with Guin and David, and then after dinner she put both children to bed, David in his room and Guin in the room they’d prepared for her. She was glad the little girl had gone to bed easily, but Serafina could not sleep. The situation with Meredith Evans had disturbed her. She had worried also about Dylan, for she knew he was a sensitive man and would not take this well.

Finally she closed her eyes. The room was bright with moon-light coming through the large windows, but she finally drifted off to sleep . . . or almost so, at least.

In one of those twilight experiences when one is neither awake nor asleep but some of each, she heard a slight muffled sound, and for a moment she lay there confused. Then suddenly her heart seemed to stop, for in the bright moonlight she turned her head to see a shadowy form.

The Slasher!

At once she realised that she was a dead woman if she didn’t do something. She rolled out of bed and cried out, but the figure came toward her. She reached about wildly and picked up the kerosene lamp from her dressing table. She threw it, and it hit the killer and soaked his garments with whale oil.

“You cannot escape. I’ll kill you like I killed the others.”

The voice of the Slasher was high-pitched. Serafina backed away and picked up the box of matches. She lit one immediately and cried loudly, “If I toss this match, you’ll burn to death.”

“Not before I kill you.”

Serafina had time to toss the match. She backed away and saw it catch on the sleeve of the killer. It blazed up, and as the killer beat it out with his free hand, Serafina moved to the fireplace and grabbed a poker from the rack that was there.

The Slasher laughed and moved closer. There was a maniacal sound in the laughter, and suddenly Serafina saw the glint of a knife. He laughed again and made a pass with the knife. Serafina jabbed the poker and caught the killer in the chest, but he made no sound and circled to stand in front of the door. The Slasher was moving gracefully, toying with Serafina. Serafina cried out again, but he jumped, and Serafina felt a strong hand on her throat. She collapsed backward. The dark figure was muffled. She could see a pair of eyes staring at her from underneath the dark hood.

“The great detective! You fool! I gave you the names of the victims, and you couldn’t catch me. Before you die, I want you to see what you missed, you stupid woman.”

The killer threw the cloak back, and Serafina stared—for it was a woman who held her there!

“Jeanne St. Clair!”

“Yes, it’s me, Jeanne St. Clair. All of Scotland Yard couldn’t catch me, and it was so clear. How many people would be able to go up and down a wall like a cat? Only an acrobat or an aerialist like me could do it.”

“Please let me go.”

“You’ll be going somewhere, but just as the other women did.”

“Why did you kill all those women, Jeanne?”

“Because Martha told me to, of course.”

“Why would she want those women dead, and why would you kill for her?”

Jeanne St. Clair had glittering eyes. She held the knife at Serafina’s throat, but she was enjoying this moment of triumph. “Because none of you would help with the movement. You are all fools! You are slaves to men, and you don’t even know it.”

“But why would you kill for her?”

“You’re too stupid to see that, aren’t you? She’s been my lover for years.” The laugh came again and had a madness in it. “That shocks you, doesn’t it?”

“But Violet Bates? Why kill her? She had no title, and she was a supporter of Miss Bingham.”

“Why, she loved Martha. Always had. She wanted me out of the way. I found out she was going to tell the law that I was the Slasher. I couldn’t have that, could I? Now—you want to say your prayers?”

“Yes, I do.”

“They don’t mean nothing. Say them quick. I’ll finish the amen.”

Serafina felt the knife at her throat, and she began to pray. “Lord, help this poor woman—”

“Keep your prayer. I don’t believe in no God!”

“But Jesus loves you, Jeanne.”

Suddenly there was a sound of wood smashing, and Jeanne St. Clair whirled and saw two men come in. She had no chance to move, for Dylan grabbed her, and Matthew was right behind him.

“Jeanne St. Clair,” Matthew said. “I should have known you would be the one who was able to climb walls and get away like a bird . . . almost.”

“You’re all fools!”

“Maybe we have been,” Matthew said, “but you’re going to pay for it.” He produced some cuffs and restrained her hands behind her back. A piece of paper fell from her sleeve.

“Maybe so,” the woman said. Her eyes had madness in them, but there was triumph in her voice. “But I won’t be alone.”

“You killed those women.”

“Yes, I killed them, but Martha ordered me to do it. Paid me good money too.”

“You’ll swear to that in court?”

“Of course I will.” The laugh again, and the woman sounded demented. “But she thought she was rid of me with that plain frump of a Violet! Now we’ll go to the pit together. Take me when you arrest Martha, Superintendent. I want to see her face!”

Matthew said, “I’ll just do that. You want to come, Dylan?”

Dylan had picked up the piece of paper and was studying it carefully. “It seems that Miss St. Clair intended to leave another poem—for another victim.”

Matthew took the paper and read it. “Who did you intend to kill next?”

“You’ll never figure it out, stupid policeman.”

Dylan saw Serafina’s troubled expression and said, “Matthew, take this woman down to the station. I think I’ll stay here. Serafina may need some company.”

“Well, you solved the case, Dylan. I think this will get you in full status at the Yard. You’ll be Inspector Dylan Tremayne if I have anything to say about it.”

“He’s as stupid as the rest of you!” Jeanne said.

“We’ll see who’s stupid. Come on.” Matthew pulled her out the door.

Serafina turned to Dylan. He came to stand close to her. He held his hand out, and she saw that it was trembling. “I didn’t think anything could do that to me.”

She put her hand lightly on his chest. She was wearing only a thin nightgown, but it never occurred to her. The threat of instant death had taken everything else out of her mind. She was aware that he had put his arms around her, and she looked up and said, “I found out about Meredith in Wales, but I found something else too.”

“And what was that, Serafina?”

“I found God in Wales. I went out on the moors all alone. I walked and I cried out, and the Lord came to me. That’s why I could pray for Jeanne instead of myself when she was about to kill me.”

Dylan listened as she told, with her face alight, how she had found Jesus to be real, something she had always run from in the past.

He held her close. She pressed her face against his chest, and he whispered, “Now you are a true handmaid of the Lord.”

TWENTY-FIVE

S
eptimus and Serafina were looking through the window watching David and Dylan. They were engaged in building a tree house for which the two had made great plans. Guin played on the grass with two dolls and the mastiff Napoleon lying beside her.

“I hope they don’t fall out of that thing and break their necks,” Septimus said.

“They won’t,” Serafina replied and added, “God wouldn’t let that happen.”

Septimus turned to face her. “You’re serious about this faith of yours in Jesus, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

He was silent, and Serafina saw that there was a sadness in him. “What is it? Is something bothering you?”

“I can look back, and I see now that I was the one who kept you away from God all your life.”

“I don’t want you to have any guilt about that.”

“I can’t help it.” His face softened, and he whispered, “Maybe you’ll find time to tell me what it’s like—believing in God.”

Serafina reached up, pulled him close, and kissed his cheek. “I think I can find the time for that,” she said, and light shone in her eyes. “I think I’ll go out and see if I can help with the tree house.”

She left the house at once, and when she neared Guin, she reached down and picked her up.
They looked up at the ladder that led to the tree house. “Is this house reserved for males?” she called out.

“No, come on up, Mum and Guin!” David’s head appeared, and his eyes were shining. “Don’t fall.”

Serafina put Guin back on the grass and asked her to wait there. Awkwardly Serafina climbed up. “What a nice house.” They had built the floor and walls and two windows, and David was speaking very loudly. “We’re going to put some bedding up here so we can spend the night.”

“It will be a little bit cold, won’t it?”

“No, it’s going to be fun. We’re going to have a secret code too, for members only.”

Serafina turned so David could not see her face and winked at Dylan. “Can I be a member, David?”

“Can she, Dylan?”

“Well,” Dylan said, “our membership rules are strict. You’ve got to pay dues.”

“How much?”

“A big platter of fairy cakes every day.”

There was, in fact, a light at the end of this dark tunnel, she saw. The case had been closed. Dylan had received full credit. The papers had made a great deal out of the fact that a famous actor had now become a famous detective. Matthew had seen to it that he had gotten full credit for the arrest of the Slasher. The trial had lasted only two days, for with Jeanne St. Clair’s giving full testimony of her guilt and implicating Martha Bingham, both women were sentenced to hang.

Now Dylan had passed out of gloom, and his relationship with Serafina was different. She had always avoided talk about the Bible, of God, and now she eagerly listened as he told her things about the faith that she now embraced.

“Well,” Serafina said fondly, “what’s the purpose of your club?”

“To save people,” David piped up, “and animals too.”

“Oh, I like that! But, by the way, I think Nessa has made some cake and lemonade. Why don’t we go get some?”

“Yes! I’ll go first.” David scooted down the ladder and ran across the yard, yelling something that Serafina could not understand.

“What’s he saying, Dylan?”

He turned to her and came close. “I can’t tell you until you’re a member of the club. You’ll have to go through the initiation.”

“Well, I’m ready.”

He moved forward and took her in his arms and kissed her. “There, that’s part of it.”

She laughed, and he brought her to him again with a quick sweep of his arms. When he kissed her and felt the desperate hunger of her lips, a feeling raced through him like fire shaking his mind. She had this power over him, and he saw that he had the same power over her. This woman was capable of lifting him to wild far heights, and suddenly he saw that her lips were trembling as if she were weak.

“What is it?”

“I nearly lost you.”

“I’ve loved you a long time, Lady Serafina Trent.”

“You never said so.”

“Well, you’re a viscountess. I’m a simple policeman. I don’t have anything to offer you.”

“You can offer me yourself.”

“If I had money and a title and you had nothing, it’s easy what the decision would be.”

Suddenly lightness came to Serafina Trent. She knew that she was beginning a journey. She could see in his eyes that he could no more keep away from her than she could keep away from him. “Doesn’t this club have rules about being courageous?”

“Indeed, yes,” Dylan said.

“Then show some courage, man.”

“All right, I will. I want to be David’s father.”

“Well then?”

“The only way I can be that is to be married to his mother.” He was smiling now, and she loved the way he teased her at times like this.

“Is that a proposal? It’s the worst I ever heard! Where’s all that romantic talk, the poetry, the fire you Welshmen are supposed to have?”

Dylan laughed, and wrapping his arms about her, he lifted her off her feet and swung her around. “The day I stop loving you will be the day I die.”