‘I say, isn’t that a wreck marked on the chart there?’ She pointed to a small black symbol about half a mile further ahead.
Percy looked over her shoulder. ‘That it is. You’d make an excellent second mate, m’lady. I might take you on permanently.’
Clifford materialised at her side and peered at the chart. ‘I imagine that is the wreck of the Aubriana, Mr Fisher?’
‘Spot on, Mr Clifford.’
Eleanor arched a questioning brow.
‘The Aubriana was a passenger steamship built in 1873. Regrettably she was caught in a ferocious storm en route from Bilbao and swept miles off course before sinking.’
Percy nodded. ‘The passengers and crew, mind, were saved in a daring rescue by the fishermen of the Brighton, Bognor and Selsey fleets. Us fisherfolk always step up when the time comes.’
As they passed the spot of the wreck Eleanor stared out, imagining the scene on the night the Aubriana sank. Many of the fishermen might only just have returned safely to their loved ones, before turning around and setting out once again into the teeth of the storm, this time to selflessly rescue the Aubriana’s passengers. She gave silent thanks that there were such people in the world.
A few minutes later they dropped anchor and Percy produced fishing rods and pails of bait.
‘Mackerel, whiting and hardback crabs should be biting if we’re lucky.’ He nodded in approval as Clifford passed around glasses of ginger wine.
Mrs Butters shook her head in mock disapproval. ‘Oh lummy, Mr Clifford. Champagne and then ginger wine? Don’t go telling me off later when I’m dancing on the deck here, not a care in the world.’
‘Ooh, that’s a great plan for the end of the afternoon,’ Mrs Trotman called over. ‘Takes a bit of practice not falling down though, doesn’t it, Butters?’
Mrs Butters shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Trotters.’
Even Clifford couldn’t contain his amusement at this exchange. ‘The ginger wine is to calm your stomach, Mrs Butters, not to encourage you to perform an Irish jig on the foredeck. It helps alleviate any symptoms of seasickness.’
After an hour of fishing, it seemed the mackerel, whiting and hardback crabs weren’t biting, so they rounded Selsey Bill, the furthest point they had time for, and then set off back to Brighton.
The return trip seemed much quicker to Eleanor than the one out, but she put it down to the wind being more in their favour on the return leg. Although it could equally have been down to her wish to stay out at sea for as long as she could. But Percy had much to do to prepare Amelie for her return to serious fishing in the morning and needed the rest of the day free.
Eleanor ran her hand along the boat’s bow rail for the last time as she went to step ashore. ‘Thank you, Amelie. Keep Percy safe, he’s a good man.’
The creak of the hull in reply made her smile. She jumped lithely onto the jetty. Clifford held out a hand for Polly, who was struggling to leave Tilly.
‘Maybe we should get a kitten at the Hall?’ Eleanor said quietly to Clifford. ‘Not just for Polly, but it might be good company for Gladstone too.’
Clifford snorted. ‘I’m not sure a living creature is safe in Polly’s… uncoordinated hands. Perhaps we could, however, obtain for her a stuffed cat? Or it could be a good hobby for you, my lady? Home taxidermy is all the rage at the moment, I believe.’
She gave him a pointed look. ‘Polly is getting much better, she hasn’t broken anything… well, nothing valuable, for weeks. And I’m not going to spend my evenings stuffing dead animals with whatever we happen to have lying around the Hall, thank you!’
Their goodbyes and grateful waves to Percy over, she turned to Clifford as he fell into step beside her. ‘I don’t know how to thank you enough, Clifford. That was the best birthday treat I’ve ever had.’
‘Nothing but a pleasure, my lady. I suggest, if it is amenable to you, we leave the ladies at this juncture so they can misbehave without my censure and retire to the Winter Gardens?’
She nodded and tried to keep a straight face. ‘Good idea. I’d hate to witness them flouting the rules of propriety or good taste, that just wouldn’t do.’
Twenty-Five
‘Oh, but I say, this is glorious,’ Eleanor whispered as she stepped into the elegant dome of the Winter Gardens. The size of an intimate concert hall and rising three floors, the entire building was bathed in sunlight. Made of glass, its vaulted supports appeared almost too fragile to bear the weight. Tall potted palms mingled with the multitude of hanging baskets cascading greenery down every column. Over sixty tables and chairs, arranged around the central carved fountain, told how bustling this would be at the height of the tourist season.
Eleanor pointed to the enticing staircase halfway along one side, which swirled up to a galleried area offering a commanding view of the entire ground floor. ‘Let’s get a table up there.’
Once installed and their order placed, Eleanor took a deep breath and pulled out the two halves of the wedding photograph.
Clifford scanned her face. ‘Are you sure this won’t spoil your birthday, my lady?’
‘No, but I appreciate your solicitude. It seems Hilary has given me the opportunity to find out the truth and then… move on. Undoubtedly the best thirtieth birthday present he could have given me, although I’m unconvinced that was his intention.’
‘Then, may I offer my compliments for your idea of asking Detective Chief Inspector Seldon to assist in retrieving the other half of the photograph? He is an excellent ally to have.’
She grimaced. ‘Yes but it will be a fleeting alliance once he learns all the ugly facts I kept from him, like the attempted kidnap.’ She groaned. ‘Then there’ll be no more “Call me Hugh” after that.’
She caught the twinkle in Clifford’s eye and shook her head wearily. ‘No, Clifford, that ship has definitely sailed. He made it clear he didn’t want to spend any time with me today, despite the fact he will be driving back down to return the photograph late this afternoon.’
Clifford adjusted his perfectly aligned tie but said nothing.
She tapped her head. ‘However, I just remembered he did confirm that Franklin, Longley, Blunt, Summers and de Meyer all came across on the same ship as Hilary, so at least I got some useful information out of him while he’s still talking to me.’
Clifford nodded. ‘As we suspected.’
‘Yes. But now we have a simply enormous pot of tea and a full stand of divine looking finger cakes—’
‘Petits fours, my lady.’
‘Yes, those too. I simply haven’t room after that sumptuous lunch, but as it’s my birthday I feel honour bound to at least try and eat one or two.’ She looked around. ‘And besides, they obviously need the business, the place is deserted. Except, that is, for that unhelpfully love-struck young couple over there.’ She pulled the two halves of the photograph from her pocket and placed them together. For a moment she just stared at the image. Finally, she let out a long breath. ‘It was a fairy-tale day. Much like today has been. At least I can hang on to that memory.’ She caught Clifford’s eye. ‘But we aren’t here to stare at a picture of happy newlyweds, I know.’
‘My lady, take your time.’
She shook her head. ‘No, let’s get this over with.’ Turning each half over, she pushed them back together. As she read the first line, she felt her chest constrict.
‘What is it, my lady?’
‘Oh, Clifford!’ She closed her eyes and tried to control her thumping heart. He topped up her tea and waited patiently. Wishing the ink inscription would somehow disappear, she reluctantly opened her eyes and accepted the handkerchief Clifford offered. She took a deep breath and looked again at the words.
She shook her head bitterly. ‘What husband doesn’t remember his wife’s middle name? Especially one as unusual as mine? It should be “Lettice”.’
‘And the other lines, my lady?’ Clifford asked gently.
She looked again and shook her head. ‘H
e’s got his middle name wrong as well! It should say “Captain Hilary Montgomery Eden”.’ She bit her lip. ‘Although, I’m not even sure he was a captain now. Or if Montgomery was his real middle name. Oh, Clifford, it seems that he had so many aliases he couldn’t even remember which one he married me under!’
She sat back in her seat, fiddling with the edge of the handkerchief. ‘Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing? Hilary would sit with me under the stars of an evening and tell me how he was going to pan for gold and become rich so he could give me the world. It was always so romantic.’ She shook her head again. ‘I never thought to question how he intended to succeed, nor how we would even live the way he described on a captain’s salary in the meantime. Obviously, he never intended to work, or pan, for his riches.’
‘We are still short of a lot of facts, my lady.’ Clifford’s tone was neutral, but his brow was furrowed.
‘Maybe, although I’m growing more doubtful with every new revelation about him. Maybe my marriage to him was just his attempt to use me to further his get-rich plans? There, I said it.’ She ran her hands down her arms.
Clifford cleared his throat. ‘I think the only thing we can be certain of is Mr Eden’s anxiety that you should receive the photograph. And it strikes me that the last line of the verse is also wr—’
‘Clifford!’ She forced a smile. ‘I realise I was wrong now. When you asked if looking at the photograph would spoil my birthday, I was adamant it wouldn’t. Well, I was mistaken.’ She took the two halves and shoved them into her jacket pocket. ‘So I say that’s enough of anything to do with Hilary for today.’
Clifford gave his customary half bow, but straightened up quickly. ‘In that case, my lady, would you like me to intercept your visitor who has just appeared at the top of the stairs?’
‘Gracious, Clifford, look who it is!’
Twenty-Six
Eleanor looked up at the owner of the outstretched hand.
‘Lady Swift, allow me to present myself. Willem de Meyer.’ The clipped accent sounded so familiar, each letter ‘a’ shortened into an ‘eh’ sound.
He’s not Dutch, Ellie, he’s South African!
The man gestured to the table. ‘May I join you and your companion?’
She folded her arms. ‘So long as you don’t deny knowing my husband like everyone else.’
De Meyer deftly undid the bottom two buttons of his Savile Row jacket and pinched each leg of his tailored suit trousers as he sat down. He gave her a steely look, which was disconcerting given that it was teemed with a wide smile. ‘On the contrary, I knew your husband very well even though I never actually met him until he was dead.’ At her startled look he shrugged. ‘My sources are very detailed. And usually very accurate. I believe I know more about your husband than, perhaps, you do.’ He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. ‘You and I could help each other a great deal.’
She let out a scoff. ‘You’re not the first to take that tack. And why should I trust you?’
‘No reason at all,’ he said, steepling his fingers. ‘But tell me, how well did you really know your husband, Lady Swift?’
As Clifford stiffened at the directness of the man’s question, she took a sip of her tea. ‘The real question is, Mr de Meyer, how much do we ever know another person? Surely everyone has a few surprises up their sleeve? You look as though you certainly do.’
This drew a snorted laugh from him as he turned back each of his silk shirt cuffs like a magician, revealing a pair of oval, gold cufflinks. ‘Oh no. I have no reason to hide anything. I prefer the transparent approach.’
She put down her tea. ‘As do I. So, to answer your question transparently, I may have a few… puzzles regarding Hilary that I haven’t been able to solve yet.’
‘Then I repeat, we really could help each other.’ There was that wide smile again, which emphasised his muscular jaw. He leaned forward. ‘I will tell you what I know if you tell me something in return.’
‘Hardly an irresistible offer.’ She busied herself choosing another petit four. At his silence, she looked over at him but then felt her chest tighten. She swallowed hard. ‘Alright. I admit I’m curious to hear what you have to say.’
‘Of course you are,’ he replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair. ‘I always think the best way to tell a story is to start at the very beginning. Let’s see then. According to my sources your husband was born in Brighton. And—’
‘Brighton?’ She shook her head. ‘He told me Sydenham in South East London.’
He shrugged. ‘My sources tell me Brighton and, as I said, they are rarely wrong. His father died when he was young. His mother wasn’t able to provide much for them, and poor little Hilary spent many hungry days.’ He brushed the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Tragic beginning. Tragic ending.’ He held her gaze. ‘Predictably clichéd.’
Before Eleanor could utter the sharp retort that came to her lips, Clifford leaned forward, anger in his eyes. ‘The facts, Mr de Meyer. If you truly have any, are all that are required.’
De Meyer looked at him mockingly. ‘Facts are such a moot topic though, aren’t they? But as you wish.’ He turned his attention back to Eleanor. ‘To stick to the “facts”, Hilary was young and desperate, a fatal combination. He decided there was more to life than poverty and obscurity and, more pertinently, that he would do anything to get it. It started with amateur confidence tricks, but you know what a quick learner he was. Bold, if not brilliant, he soon turned to bigger and bigger things, which got him noticed.’
‘By whom?’ Eleanor said.
‘The boss of the gang on whose territory he foolishly believed he could operate without giving him a cut. Luckily for Hilary, when the boss sent round a couple of gang members to teach him what happened to upstarts who thought they could operate on his gang’s patch, Hilary managed to give them the slip. Unfortunately though, he had underestimated the gang’s reach and soon realised that the only way to escape their vengeance was to leave not only Brighton, but England. So he fled on the first steamer he could get a ticket for, which happened to be going to South Africa.’
‘And what did Hilary do on landing in South Africa?’ she said, keeping a wobble from her voice with difficulty.
‘What do you think?’ He spread his hands. ‘He fell back into his old ways. To be fair, I am not sure he would have had much choice arriving on her shores penniless and friendless. South Africa is far wilder and more dangerous than her lions and sharks.’ He nodded at her. ‘But you know that all too well.’
She eyed him coldly. ‘I looked after myself just fine out there, thank you!’
Clifford rapped the table. ‘Mr de Meyer, again I am warning you to stick to the facts or I shan’t bother the management to eject you, I shall do it myself. And it will be a pleasure. Conclude your business, whatever it is, swiftly and take your leave.’
De Meyer nodded slowly, a lazy smile on his lips. ‘If that is what the lady wishes. Although from what I saw in South Africa, she was more than capable of speaking up for herself. But anyway, back to Hilary. He thought he had struck lucky when he met two other crooks who had been stealing small-time from my employers. As head of security, I wasn’t happy about this. However, the thefts were not so amateurish that I could easily work out who it was. But then they got greedy and conjured up a more ambitious scheme along with your husband. But they still needed someone on the inside.’
‘You?’
He nodded. ‘None of the three of them had any idea that I was leading them into a trap. The night it was all set for I waited with armed guards, ready to ambush them. But it seems they didn’t trust me as much as I’d hoped. They broke in earlier than they’d said they would and from another place. We caught up with them as they tried to get away. At least I gave one of them a permanent souvenir – a bullet in the leg.’
Bert Blunt, Ellie! He’s got a limp. That’s too much of a coincidence, which means Longley, his so-called cousin, must have been the other crook.
De Mey
er was still talking. ‘It seems from what I learned later that they decided to double-cross not only me, but also your husband. They didn’t tell him about their change of plans, either. In fact, he wasn’t even there when we had our little gunfight. However, it appears they underestimated him, and he found them later and, in revenge, stole the item they’d stolen from my employers.’ He stifled a yawn. ‘You see, thieves can never hold on to their ill-gotten gains for long.’
Eleanor frowned, trying to process what she had been told. ‘But the two members of the gang that got away? Surely with all the resources apparently at your disposal you should have caught them?’
He shrugged. ‘The war made tracking anyone practically impossible, and then the influenza outbreak compounded the difficulties.’
She shook her head. ‘But why did you pursue Hilary all this time? You said yourself he wasn’t even there on the night of the theft. What did you want with him?’
He nodded. ‘A good point, Lady Swift. The answer is simple. When I did catch up with the other two, I realised that they weren’t living the high life on their ill-gotten gains. Or even lying low. No, they themselves were pursuing someone. So, I said to myself, Willem, why do you suppose they would be doing that?’
She groaned. ‘Because they no longer had whatever they allegedly stole from your employers. The person they were now pursuing had it. Or they believed he did.’
‘Exactly! And I discovered that that other person they were pursuing was—’
‘Hilary.’ Eleanor couldn’t keep the question from her lips. ‘But Hilary was shot for gun running, not stealing.’
De Meyer nodded. ‘That was where your husband’s luck ran out. There has always been an element of gun running in that district of South Africa. Your husband stole a vehicle, I assume while trying to put some distance between himself and his former partners in crime. He was stopped at a roadblock by the military and they searched the back of the vehicle as a matter of course and found illegal guns hidden in the cargo.’ He paused. ‘Your husband was a thief, Lady Swift, but he never ran guns that I know of.’ He held out his hands. ‘There you go, a crumb of comfort for the widow.’
Mystery by the Sea: An utterly addictive English cozy mystery (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery Book 5) Page 14