The Silk Vendetta (49 page)

“Yes, you did mention that. You took the picture of her.”

“It was also a picture of you, was it not? Now listen to me. I was greatly interested to see the lady because I knew her … but not as Madalenna de’ Pucci. That, I have proved now, was not her real name.”

“Who is she then?”

“She is, in a manner of speaking, a connection of yours. Her name is Adele St. Allengere.”

I stared at him in astonishment.

“You see it was too fortuitous. People are never careful enough. There are these little slip-ups and these result in the big scheme falling to the ground. You have seen something of life in Villers-Mure and in Carsonne. We are a fiery people. You know of the feud between my house and that of St. Allengere. Vendetta. It is a common word on the border because of our volatile neighbours. We love and hate … vehemently. There is much to tell you. I began to piece things together when you told me so much, and because I did not wish to see you unhappy living under a cloud of suspicion as you would have done perhaps all your life, I determined to unravel the mystery. Also, it intrigued me. I have put the confession in the hands of the French police who are now in touch with those in this country. Soon the mystery will be revealed but I wished to tell you first.”

“You are keeping me in suspense.”

“You deserve it for thinking I had left you to go in search of the beautiful Italian. You did believe that, did you not? And it was true. But not for the reason you had decided on. You were most displeased.”

“Please tell me what all this is about?”

“It is all about Vendetta and a wicked old man who is now considerably chastened. You were right. I had gone back to France to look for Adele St. Allengere. I was determined to have the whole story from her. It is not difficult for me. I have many people working for me. I told you we were feudal in our part of the world. My word is law and if I say, ‘Find Adele St. Allengere,’ she will be found.”

“I still can’t understand what all this is about.”

“I am telling it badly. I will begin at the beginning. Two brothers went to France when their father was alive. They were Charles the elder, and Philip, who was to become your husband. Charles was the lover of pleasure. Philip was seriously interested in the business of producing silk. They visited Villers-Mure where they were accepted as distant connections of the family … the Huguenot branch. The old man—stern bigot that he was—was not pleased about this, and the displeasure of the Catholic St. Allengeres towards the Huguenots has lasted for three hundred years. But they were members of the family; moreover he wanted to know how the silk industry was progressing in England. So they were accepted into the house. He saw that Philip was the one who cared about the business. Charles he had dismissed as no good.

“Now, he had had a group of men working for some time on a special kind of silk which was to be different from any other kind which had ever been produced. It was very secret. The old man’s granddaughter Heloi’se was being courted by one of the men who was working on this project so that she was aware of what was going on and he gave her access to the particular section where the research work was in progress. This would have been forbidden had it been known. Charles Sallonger was a very plausible young man, handsome too, apparently; he was different from anyone Heloise had ever known before. She fell in love with him. She must have talked to him about the secret work which was being done and he prevailed on her to show him the formula. This, poor lovesick girl, she did. Then … the brothers departed. Heloise realized that she had—as they say—given herself to a philanderer. More than that she had betrayed her family’s secret to him. When it was learned that the English had put this special silk on the market and claimed credit for having discovered the method of producing it, the St. Allengere household was in turmoil. Unable to bear the shame of having betrayed her family to a false lover, Heloise drowned herself in the river which wound its way through the grounds of the house. She left a note, however, in which she explained what she had done, but she omitted to mention her lover’s name. As Charles had appeared to be indifferent to business, it was naturally concluded that Philip was the thief and the false lover. You now know something of what the old man is like. He demanded vengeance and set out to get it.”

“So Philip was to have been murdered. …”

”Yes. The first attempt went wrong—in the case of the Italian Lorenzo. The overturned carriage was a way of getting into the house and when she was there Adele with her servant stole the gun from the gun room. They took it with them when they left. Then one of Alphonse’s hired killers was commanded to lure Philip into the forest and shoot him. This is what he did making it appear suicide.”

“It is all becoming horribly clear.”

“Then, recently, the fact that Charles was the culprit was revealed.”

“I know,” I cried, “I told Rene in the graveyard.”

“So it was decided that Charles should pay the full penalty. Adele was despatched to England once more. She had ill luck from her point of view because the fire she started did not have the desired effect on account of the valet’s returning early. Adele had to try again.”

“So she poisoned the wine. How can you be sure of this?”

“I had it from Adele’s own lips.”

“Why did she tell you?”

“When I saw the picture I recognized her immediately. I guessed she was up to some mischief here. I was intrigued by the story of the unfortunate Lorenzo and the fact that shortly after Adele’s visit, your husband died. Then, of course, Charles’s life was in danger twice after her visits. I know the way the St. Allengeres work. I knew she was up to no good.”

“Then you have no proof.”

“But I have. I have Adele’s written confession.”

“Do you mean she gave it to you?”

“I am very determined when I decide on a certain action. I was sure that the St. Allengeres had had a hand in this. It is just the way the old man would work. I will not be over modest. We de la Tours have ruled our neighbourhood for years. In the old days we were all powerful. Times have changed but customs cling. I wanted Adele brought to me and my wishes were obeyed.”

”You mean you held her prisoner?”

“I did. I demanded the truth. I let her think that I knew a great deal more than I did. And while I had her there in my castle I went to see the old man.” His eyes glistened. “It was a great occasion for me. Face to face with the old villain himself. We were two titans … though you will doubtless think me immodest for saying it. I come from a long line of ruling Comtes and he was the head of the St. Allengeres who hold the none-less-kinglike sway in their little terrain. Villers-Mure is like a little state within the bigger state of Carsonne; but it is independent of Carsonne … like Burgundy and France of old. That is one of the reasons why he hates my family. We have always been determined that he shall not encroach further.”

“So you revelled in the confrontation.”

“I did. He was speechless with rage. I accused him of murder. I told him he had broken one of the commandments … the most important of them all. He had sold his soul for Vendetta. I explained the innocence of Philip whom he had killed, for his was the ultimate responsibility and those who had performed the deed were acting only on his orders. He was the one who would have to face his Maker. He shouted that these men had come to his house as guests and one of them had replied to his hospitality by stealing an important formula and seducing his granddaughter. The righteous God would call that justice. The French had done all the work on an important project and the perfidious English had stolen the secret when it was on the point of perfection, seducing a daughter of the house of St. Allengere in order to steal it. The punishment was deserved. I had to agree with what he said. It was the kind of action the Comtes of Carsonne would have taken.

” ‘But,’ I pointed out, ‘you killed an innocent man, and for that you will have to answer in Heaven.’ He wouldn’t believe it until I told him that Adele had confessed all to me. He shouted at me, abusing me, accusing me of seducing Adele. It was very strange that a man incapable of love will look for it in everything that happens. I left him raging, but he was frightened. I had seen his face grow ashen at the thought of Heaven’s revenge. He sees himself burning in Hell in spite of what he would call his good life and all because he has committed the one great sin of murder.”

He paused and I could see how he had relished that interview.

“That night,” he went on, “he was taken ill. He had a stroke. He had never been so shocked in his life. He lived according to his own rules and he would tell you he was a just man. Sin had to be paid for and he was the judge of us all—a sort of Commissioner under God, but only just. He had pictured his God of vengeance with the heavenly choir singing praises of the virtuous Alphonse St. Allengere–and hell fire for the rest of us. And now he had committed a mortal sin. He had caused an innocent man to be murdered. There would be no compromise. In spite of a life of impeccable virtue which had brought misery to thousands, he himself was among the sinners. It had been too much for him. He might have died with his sin upon him. Now he was fighting desperately to regain his old standing with the Almighty. I have hinted that we shall expect him to expiate his sin. The change in him was a miracle in itself.”

”You are gloating over him.”

“Of course. This is the justice in which he has always believed. We shall use his fears to good advantage. He is to take full responsibility for what has happened … for the death of your husband … for the death of Julia Aldringham. He is responsible. Those who committed the crime are merely his puppets.”

“Will that exonerate them?”

“Not entirely. But mercy will be shown to them, I am sure. I do not know what will happen … whether Adele will be brought to England to stand trial or not. Perhaps so. Whether they will insist on the old man’s revealing the name of the man who shot your husband … that I cannot tell. All I know at the moment is that that is the story and that you are no longer under suspicion … nor is Mr. Drake Aldringham. Your police know of this. Perhaps the whole story will be disclosed … perhaps not. It may be that they will just allow the details to be told which seem right to them. As for Monsieur Charles, I think he may be in trouble. There could well be a case brought by the House of St. Allengere concerning the theft of the silk formula … which could plunge him into financial disaster … heavy damages and so on. Who can say at this stage. But it will be no more than he deserves for it was his action which started this murderous train of events. But that is not our concern. Have I made you happy now?”

“Just now I am bewildered. I do not know what to believe.”

“Do you mean that you doubt my words?”

“Of course not, but it is bewildering to learn so much in such a short time.”

“It took little time to tell but a long time to act out. So you are very grateful to me, eh?”

“If… this is all true …”

“Have I not told you?”

“Yes… yes … but…”

“Well?”

“I don’t know how to express my thanks for all the trouble you have taken.”

”I will tell you how.”

I looked at him questioningly.

“Very soon,” he went on, “I shall show you.”

I thought of Grand’mere and her warning against this man.

I said: “I want to tell my grandmother what you have told me. She has suffered a great deal of anxiety. I must tell her at once.”

“Yes, you must tell the good dragon. Tell her what I have discovered. She breathes fire every time my name is mentioned, I know. It would be pleasant if she did not regard me with such animosity. Please tell her what I have told you. Make her see that the trouble is past.”

“I must go to her at once.”

“That is what you wish, so be it. Tomorrow some of what I have told you will be confirmed and I shall come and see you again. I can see the headlines … ‘The Silk Vendetta’… what a story for them. Au revoir then, Madame Sallonger, till tomorrow. ”

Grand’mere was incredulous. “Do you believe this?” she asked.

“He assured me it is true. He has Adele’s confession. It fits in with everything.”

“It may be that he tells this story to delude you.”

“Why should he?”

“Don’t forget I was brought up in the shadow of his family. I know the de la Tours… all of them. In the old days they were often at war with the kings of France. They ruled their land as despotically as ever the kings did theirs. They want something and they think it is their right to take it. And your grandfather is such another. Ruthless, demanding vengeance and turning others into murderers to suit his own ends. If it is true what you tell me …”

“Grand’mere, I feel it must be true.”

“Then you and Drake are free. He … the Comte knows that. Why should he do this? He knows about you and Drake, doesn’t he?”

“He wants to see justice done.”

“The de la Tours always had one motive—to serve themselves. He must be very interested in you.”

“I think he was intrigued when he saw the picture of Adele and wanted to find out why she was posing as someone else.”

She looked at me shrewdly. “Drake Aldringham is the one for you,” she said firmly.

“After all this I feel we could not be together. He might feel the same.”

“No, no. He loves you. He will give you everything to make you happy. He is a good man—a man you can trust. You would always be sure of him. The best thing in life is peace of mind. He would give you that.”

Would he? I wondered. If I married Drake I would always feel that some part of me was at Carsonne. That man had laid a spell on me and nothing would ever be the same again.

“I know you are right in a way …”I said.

“Then be sensible.”

”It wouldn’t be fair to Drake.”

“Tell me the truth. Surely you have always been able to do that with me. You are bemused by Gaston de la Tour. He seems to you a figure of power and strength; and he offers excitement … romance, I suppose. I know his reputation. It is the same as that of his forebears. They were never faithful husbands. But he would never marry you. The de la Tours have always married those of their own kind. He would tire of you quickly. It is their way of life. For centuries they have lived like feudal kings … petty monarchs even when there were no longer kings of France. Come out of your day dream. Drake is waiting for you. I know a good man when I see one and Drake Aldringham is one.” I did not answer. Common sense told me that she was right.