Artful Deception (The Clearwater Mysteries Book 6)

by Jackson Marsh

  ‘Wouldn’t he prefer to stay upstairs?’

  ‘No, Sir. I did ask, but he would rather be with his brother.’

  ‘Very well. And Mrs Norwood is out?’

  ‘She is visiting Mr Norwood.’ Thomas exchanged a nervous glance with Silas.

  ‘What does that mean?’ Archer asked, sensing something had been left unsaid. ‘Why isn’t he here?

  Thomas closed the doors. ‘I think Mrs Norwood is happy he isn’t,’ he said. ‘Things have not been so rosy in that garden for a couple of months now. Mrs Norwood has, with my permission, made her home below stairs, for the time being at least.’

  ‘Oh?’ Archer enquired, prompting Thomas to continue.

  ‘Not wanting to be indiscreet,’ the butler said, lowering his voice. ‘I think the relationship has drifted. I offered her continuous service in place of Mrs Baker until such time as…’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Tommy,’ Silas interrupted. ‘The Norwoods are getting a divorce, Archie. She found him shagging another woman. She asked Tom if she could stay on once we got back from Larkspur, and he’s so soft-hearted he said she could. As it turns out, she’s an asset and a lot more fun than Mrs Baker. She oversaw the electric installation…’ Silas flicked the switch of an electric table lamp. ‘She’s also been acting as a spare coachman. When I’ve been coming back to keep an eye on the Foundation, she’s met me off the train like an East End cabbie, only smarter. And female.’

  ‘I think she is what the newspapers are calling a “New Woman”,’ Thomas explained. ‘She still teaches part-time and is learning to use a typewriter.’

  ‘Good for her.’ Archer crossed to his desk where he considered the news while he signalled for the others to sit. ‘We are alone, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘And I have some explaining to do, but while we wait for the rest of our crew, Tom, would you say Mrs Norwood can be trusted?’

  ‘Certainly, Sir.’

  ‘Archer.’

  ‘Certainly, Archer. Why?’

  ‘Because we need her for a charade Silas has devised. I had it in mind to ask Lady Marshall, but she might be recognised. If you think Mrs Norwood is suitable, you can tell me later. If not, we will think again.’ Seeing that Thomas didn’t understand, he said, ‘Tempus omnia revelat. It’s Culver’s motto in Westerpool and rather appropriate to us. Time reveals all, Tom, as will I in due course.’ Changing the subject, Archer peered to the sideboard. ‘Do we have a drink I can offer?’

  ‘We do,’ Thomas said striding to the decanters. ‘But I shall do it.’

  Footsteps approached the study doors, followed by a series of nervous knocks answered by a powerful, ‘Enter!’ from the viscount.

  Jake poked his head around the door. ‘Hello, Lord Clearwater, Sir,’ he said. ‘The big chap told me to come straight up. You wanted to see me?’

  ‘Yes, come in.’

  ‘Jake!’ Silas was on his feet, dragging the young lad into the study and embracing him before he had a chance to realise what was happening.

  ‘Hello Mr Silas, Sir,’ Jake grinned, slightly bemused. ‘Your Lordship, I came as soon as I got back from the studio.’

  ‘Thank you for coming, Jake.’ Archer shook his hand. ‘Apologies for the cloak and dagger nature of the request. How is life at Delamere House?’

  ‘Blimey, Sir,’ Jake gushed, his smile apparently irremovable. ‘I never knew such luxury existed off stage. I got me own room upstairs, come and go to the studio when needed, work on Her Ladyship’s gowns when not. It’s a job I love, Sir, and Her Ladyship is very kind to me, like she is to everyone there. I’ve got to thank you, Sir, and Mr Silas, for putting in a word.’

  ‘You did that yourself by averting her untimely death, Jake. Now, go and sit. We have business to discuss, and I need your assistance. Ah, here’s Mr Danylo.’

  Fecker had appeared in the doorway, towering over his older brother. Like Danylo, he was dressed in a smart suit rather than livery, but neither man wore shoes. Where Fecker’s blond hair was tied in its customary ponytail reaching below his collar, Danylo’s was short at the sides, and the electric bulbs picked out lighter highlights meandering through the dark brown giving it the appearance of polished rosewood.

  ‘Welcome to Clearwater House and thank you for coming, Mr Danylo,’ Archer said. ‘This must all seem strange, but come in. In this room, we are friends.’

  ‘I told him what you are like,’ Fecker grunted, making the statement sound like an accusation, and striding to the drinks.

  ‘Excellent. Gentlemen please sit.’

  The doors closed, each man holding a glass of wine, and the glaring lights dimmed to only a few lamps, they faced the desk where Archer settled into his captain’s chair, and, in his mind, ran through the script he had rehearsed on the way back from the gallery. Information needed to come in the correct order, but while he passed it on, he had to remain cautious and not give too much away. For his scheme to triumph against Quill’s, his crew had to be allowed to work their parts in their own fashion.

  First of all, however, he needed to be sure the newcomers were on board.

  ‘Mr Danylo,’ he said, and immediately Danylo leapt to his feet and straightened his shoulders. ‘Yes, we’re not in the army now, do remain seated.’ When Danylo had sat, he continued. ‘Having said that, you are a part of my crew, as is Mr O’Hara, here.’

  ‘How do?’ Jake touched his forelock at Danylo, and the Ukrainian replied with a sharp nod.

  ‘I am not sure what Andrej has told you about how I work,’ Archer continued. ‘But I need your assistance, and I ask you for it as a friend, not as your employer.’

  ‘Permission to speak, Sir?’ Danylo again rushed to stand to attention, and Archer let him have his way.

  ‘Permission granted.’

  ‘Sir,’ Danylo said, his voice clipped but revealing enough of his native accent to make each word exotically romantic. ‘Andrej has told me how you are and what troubles you have. I am your servant, Sir.’

  ‘Danylo…’ Archer began, but thought of a different tack. ‘Rather, I should say, Lieutenant Kolisnychenko, I consider you my equal, Sir, and I drink a toast to you.’ He raised his glass to the man who stared back at him intently, his eyes narrow with concentration. ‘I achieved the same rank in the navy as you did in the army, and it is comforting to think that we have fought the same battles on the Black Sea. We were different nationalities and yet on the same side, and likewise, tonight, we are from different sides of the baize door and yet on the same crew. I would like you to think of this as a request rather than a command, but I need you to fight alongside me again, and must ask you, are you prepared to do so?’

  Danylo replied to the wall over Archer’s head. ‘Sir,’ he said, as quick as gunfire. ‘I am, no matter what you ask. Beg your pardon, Sir, but, permission to speak freely?’

  ‘There is no need for permission,’ Archer replied, smiling broadly. ‘With these doors closed, you may and must speak your mind.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Danylo addressed the viscount. ‘I am honoured you remembered we were of the same rank, and it is because of that I say yes. Don’t think I obey only because you brought me to your country, you rescued my brat, and you give us work. Whatever you ask, I do as my brat does, because you honour us, and we respect you because you are Geroy.’

  Archer swallowed, and thanked him, moved by his sentiments.

  ‘By the look on Jake’s face, someone needs to translate,’ Silas said, chewing his lip.

  ‘Jake, yes.’ Archer studied him a moment as he formed his words.

  When he had first met Jake, the lad had been waiflike, yet as quick with his feet as he was with his words. Archer had latched into his confidence and positive outlook and immediately liked the young man. When he next saw him, he had been covered in soot having helped Silas fuel a locomotive in o
rder to save guests from being poisoned. Since then, under Lady Marshall’s guidance, he had filled out in frame, lost much of his acne, and had transformed from a wiry seventeen-year-old in torn clothes to an eighteen-year-old man in a fine suit of his own design.

  Silas was a dichotomy, but in equal measure, so was Jake. He had no proclivities towards the same sex and yet worked with clothes as adept as any seamstress and as inventive as any Opera House costumier. Whether he was a runner, homeless, or training in a grand lady’s fashion boutique, his positivity remained strong, and he wore his talent shamelessly.

  A talent on which Archer now needed to draw.

  ‘Jake. I am sorry,’ Archer said, aware that the lad had been waiting. ‘First of all, Mr Danylo is Mr Andrej’s brother and the word for brother in their homeland is brat.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Jake said, glancing nervously at Fecker. ‘’Cos I thought it was an insult, and I wouldn’t want to see that one upset.’

  ‘Quite. I can see from what Mr Danylo said that his brat has explained my troubles. Namely, one Benjamin Quill, brother of the man who died trying to shame me with a murder on the stage of your opera house, as you may remember.’

  ‘I do, Your Lordship, Sir,’ Jake enthused. ‘Wrecked the smoke machine, but I got to bring in the tabs.’

  Archer chuckled at the memory. ‘And helped save the gala and my reputation. Tonight, I must ask you if you are prepared to do the same thing in a different way.’

  Jake tried to copy Danylo and stood to attention. It was a fair imitation that proved Archer had another crew member eager to come aboard.

  ‘I am, Sir,’ Jake told a portrait of Lord Clearwater rather than the man himself. ‘You’ve been good to me, Your Lordship, Sir, so has Mr Silas, and however you want the kindness returned, I’m ready for it. Like Mr Danny, I’m happy to do whatever you ask, long as it’s not listening to Wagner.’

  Archer blinked at the lad’s fervour. ‘Good Lord, man. I’m not asking you to fall on your sword. But thank… Jake? I’m down here.’ When Jake had torn his eyes from the portrait and fixed them on Archer, the viscount continued. ‘Thank you for your kind words. Now, please sit while I explain what is taking place.’

  With his men sworn in, and trusting each of them in equal measure, Archer began.

  ‘For some time now, I have been living with a sense Quill was about to make a move. The suspicion became a certainty when Jimmy peeled back an address label on a forged painting sent to Earl Kingsclere. Jimmy can explain the details later… Oh, here, Jimmy, your notes.’ Archer produced his pocket-note and spun it across the room to James at the reading table. ‘Discovering who had sent the painting to Kingsclere was easy, too easy in fact, and so I asked myself this: Who, when attempting to blackmail a man, would leave such obvious clues to their identity? Namely, a post office box, extra postage and the initials, BQ. I decided that only someone who wanted to make themselves known would have done so. In other words, Quill wanted me to know it was him. If his intention was simply to blackmail the earl, then why do so while I was present? I knew the game was on.

  ‘What Quill wants is for me to come to him at an unknown location where he intends to finish me in a duel. Although unproven, of this, I am sure. It’s a simple message until one looks beneath it. Quill does not work alone. I am convinced the incident at Easter was his doing, and that the Romanian assassin with the unlikely name of Mr Smith is working with or for him. Therefore, I am not invited to a simple duel, nor a fair one. Quill will leave traps along the way. He has already given me one diversion, and that is the Wolfgang Vaine painting, “Brothers in Arms”, a most apt title and, of course, another of his clues written too loudly to be ignored.’

  Archer put his hand on the pile of correspondence Thomas had brought to the study.

  ‘In here, gentlemen,’ he continued, ‘will be the second diversion, and Quill needs to see me fall for it. Make no mistake, I am being watched.’ Looking at James, he said, ‘We were not riding alone yesterday, and I detected someone in the shadows outside the inn. I suspect Mr Smith, but there may be others. However, I am also certain he is trailing me.’

  James nodded and silently made a note in his book.

  ‘While I am being diverted,’ Archer said to the group. ‘You have a job to do. Part of the painting was missing, and I need you to discover what that part shows. Quill, of course, intends to delay me, thinking that I work if not alone, then with Tom, whom he knows, and Silas who is the chink in my armour.’

  ‘Oi,’ Silas laughed.

  ‘Because you are my life, Silas, and he knows I would give mine for yours.’

  The words brought an ‘Ah, sweet,’ from Jake which earnt him a coy nudge from Silas.

  ‘What he doesn’t know I have in my arsenal,’ Archer continued, ‘is Jimmy, which is why, when I leave, he will take the lead.’

  ‘Where are you going?’ Thomas asked. ‘And why now?’

  ‘Tempus omnia revelat.’ Archer put a finger to his lips. ‘First things first. What is missing from the painting? I predict it will lead us to the whereabouts of the duel. If not, then to a second clue and so on for as long as Quill wants to keep me occupied. Or it might mean nothing at all, the point is, we needed to see it, and I went this afternoon to look.’

  ‘And?’ James leant forward on his chair. ‘What was missing?’

  ‘The whole painting,’ Archer said. ‘It is being repaired because of an incident a couple of weeks ago in which it was damaged. It’s locked in a room one floor below the foyer, the entrance to which is also locked and guarded over by a man who smells of Gentlemen’s Relish. Add to that suspicious list the fact that the man with the keys is in Switzerland, and you have a work of art signed by the artist himself, Doctor Benjamin Quill. The painting is locked away just when I need to see it, and our first diversion has a diversion of its own.’

  ‘So,’ Jake said, when everyone else remained silent. ‘What do you need me for?’

  ‘Silas has a scheme.’ Archer was unable to keep back a smile. ‘Apparently, it only takes him a minute to get through a locked door, and he thinks Mrs Norwood would be game.’

  ‘Game for what?’ Thomas asked cautiously. ‘Breaking into the National Gallery?’

  ‘No, Tom, not exactly. We are not going to do any damage, but we are, in a way, going to steal a painting. To achieve that, Jake, we will need a respectable lady and her nephew, a street rat, an art student and a police constable.’

  Heads turned from one to the other with only Silas smirking.

  ‘Oh, and while you are about it, Jake, can you turn Danylo into a man of medicine? I will explain later, Mr Danylo. I know it’s a lot to ask, Jake.’

  ‘Not really, Sir,’ Jake chirped. ‘I’ll see a few people at the opera tomorrow, I’ve got my own workshop at the studio, and I only need a few measurements. Give me a couple of days, Your Lordship, Sir, and they’ll be costumed as good as any in “The Pirates of Penzance”.’

  ‘We need to act tomorrow, Jake.’

  ‘Ah. In that case, it might not be D’Oyly Carte standard, but I’ll get it done.’

  ‘And one more thing.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Can you find me information on theatrical illusion?’

  ‘All theatre is an illusion, Your Lordship, Sir,’ Jake replied. ‘It’s the double-edged medium able to show us what is real from what we know is imaginary. A fancy that reflects and deflects at the same time. Back at the opera, we sailed make-believe ships on real water, and over at Her Majesty’s, they brought about the end of the world for Gotterdammerung.’

  ‘Yes, well…’ Archer stammered, stunned at Jake’s fluency. ‘Nothing quite as terminal as that.’

  ‘Just tell me what theatrics you want up your sleeve, Sir, and I’ll fit you out.’

  ‘Excellent. We will speak on that furth
er in due course. For now, gentlemen, we turn to Silas’ plan to access “Brothers in Arms”.’

  Ten

  As Silas explained the charade for the following day, Archer watched his men closely, gauging their reactions. James and Jake were clearly enthusiastic, Fecker was his usual dispassionate self, and Thomas remained cynical but not opposed. They worked well together, and when the group discussed technicalities and timing, everyone threw in ideas, happy to let Silas select the best.

  It was a simple plan, and Archer was proud of Silas for dreaming it up. Distracting the concierge was obvious, but it would never have occurred to him to bring in a more senior character such as a police officer who, by his uniform, could command the whole foyer including its manager.

  ‘The man behind the counter rules the roost,’ Silas explained. ‘So, unless someone turns up who can order him around, he could just throw Jake and Tom out. I know it’s probably against the law, but if Jimmy impersonates a rozzer, no-one’s going to argue.’

  When they were unable to decide on how James, as the policeman, would know it was safe to let the concierge return to his desk, Thomas cut straight to the chase and suggested simplicity.

  ‘I’m the tallest. I’ll make sure I stand where I can see the counter, and when Silas gets back, I’ll find my wallet. That’ll be Jimmy’s clue to wind up the interview, but how exactly is Silas to steal a painting without actually stealing a painting? Is he expected to sketch what he sees?’

  ‘No, Tom, but thanks for asking.’

  Archer put the delivery from Eastman’s in the centre of his desk and opened the package, withdrawing a leather satchel. From it, he produced an oblong box made of wood covered with black leather. It had a circular glass at one end, and on top, a brass key among a few other mysterious fittings.