‘You are very kind, Ma’am.’
‘I am. And you are very naughty. But, you are also very discreet, and that’s why I respect you.’
He bowed his head, not sure if she was being sarcastic or genuine. ‘I am honoured, Your Ladyship. But I am only doing what my employer needs.’
‘You know, Silas,’ she said with a sigh. ‘You’re a damn fine actor. You should have been on that stage tonight.’
‘Ma’am,’ Silas smiled. ‘I was very nearly all over it.’
Twenty-Nine
The last of the guests left the opera house at eleven-thirty, but Archer stayed behind to see if he could be of use to Doctor Markland. Mr Bursnall had done well to keep the tragedy from the guests, but someone from below stage had informed the Central News Agency, and he was forced to tell Viscount Clearwater. When Archer found him in the Champagne bar, he explained that the police were investigating, and wouldn’t let reporters into the theatre, but eventually, word would leak out.
‘And what is that word, Philip?’ Archer asked, before giving Silas a sideways look.
‘That Miss Arnold was an imposter,’ the doctor replied. ‘Duped me, you, everyone.’ His eyes were ringed with red, and he clutched a sodden handkerchief.
‘Not quite everyone,’ Archer said. He patted the doctor’s knee. ‘You weren’t to know she was a he,’ he said, but it didn’t help Markland’s mood. ‘And you weren’t to know he was suicidal, not to mention over-dramatic. What a ridiculous way to end one’s life, don’t you think?’
Markland nodded. ‘I can’t comprehend it at this moment.’ He sniffed. ‘I’ve told the police all I know. Apparently, it’s quite common.’
‘Quite common?’ Archer laughed. ‘Forgive me.’ He remembered himself. ‘I am not making fun of your loss. It was easy to see how fond you were of… Well, of…’
‘Of his disguise?’ Silas offered.
‘Exactly. But tell me, Philip, how can such a thing be common?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Doctor huffed. ‘One of the runners told me it happens a lot in other theatres. Said the papers wouldn’t be that interested, and I shouldn’t worry.’
Silas smiled. Jake was a canny bugger.
‘I’m sure he is correct,’ Archer said. ‘Now, if they’ve finished with you, shall I drive you home?’
‘I’m sorry for my behaviour, Sir,’ Markland said. ‘I shall resign as superintendent immediately.’
‘You will do no such thing.’ Archer was outraged. ‘You will go home, drown your sorrows in a decent Scotch and go to bed.’
‘But if my connection to him is made public…’
‘We shall sort it out. I am not leaving my charity in anyone else’s hands, Philip. You weren’t to know. You’re a gentleman. A great many men would have discovered her… his gender before an appropriate length of courtship had elapsed. You have done nothing wrong, and I won’t hear another word.’ He stood. ‘Silas, will you inform Thomas we are leaving?’
It was approaching one o’clock when, having taken Markland to his home on the edge of Greychurch, Fecker drew up at Clearwater Mews. Archer insisted on helping him unshackle the horses, asking Thomas to lay out anything he could find from the pantry. He ordered James straight to bed, but the footman insisted on staying to help.
Silas had waited until they were home before explaining what had happened, by which time they were in the servants’ hall.
‘Maybe we should bring this up to you?’ Thomas said, hovering behind his usual chair at the head of the table.
‘I don’t have the energy for that,’ Archer said. ‘If it doesn’t upset you too much, Tom, we’ll eat together and now.’ He flashed Silas a devilish smile and took a seat at the table below Thomas. ‘I can’t wait to hear about black eyes and disappearing secretaries.’
When they were seated and helping themselves to the spread, Silas began his story. He explained every detail from his point of view. How he and James had unlocked the clue in the letter with the help of Mrs Mark’s ostentatious display of limited Italian. How he had found Roxton in the interval where Archer’s friend had identified the timing, and how, thanks to the King’s arrival, Stella had been forced to change his plan.
‘I’m sure he was going to shoot,’ he said. ‘He had a gun on him at one point, but when the King turned up, and your party had to sit with him, he knew he wasn’t able to do that. I guess he saw the story in the programme about Any-Arse drinking from a…’
‘Aeneas,’ Archer corrected, half-smiling.
‘Whoever. So, when Stella saw you were using those silver goblets in the royal box… It was a risk, and he nearly got away with it. Then, when he saw we were onto him, he did the only thing he could think of.’
‘I am still reeling from the sight of my footman’s debut appearance,’ Archer said. ‘Why on earth did you do that?’
‘Mr Hawkins noticed the goblets had been swapped,’ James explained. ‘And Miss Arnold was backstage during the interval. It might have been harmless, and I can’t tell you if he had poisoned the poisoned chalice or not, but Mr Hawkins didn’t want to risk it. Neither did I.’ He emphasised their working together to protect Silas rather than to steal his thunder. ‘But by that time, it was already on the stage. The audience had seen Silas so he couldn’t go out there.’
‘Yes, I must speak to you about your speech,’ Archer said, with narrow eyes.
‘Like I said, spur of the moment thing.’
Silas shuffled uneasily. Of all the things he had done that evening, speaking without thinking was the most dangerous. He could easily have put one word in the wrong place and caused embarrassment.
‘I thought it was brilliant,’ Archer said. ‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of it. Everyone was commenting on how correct it was.’
‘Correct?’
‘Yes. As in, correct of the Foundation to, as Lady Marshall said, put its mouth where its money is and have someone who knows…’ He took Silas’ hand. ‘Someone who has witnessed that kind of hideous life first-hand, talk to those who had sponsored him. It showed the patrons and public that we are serious in our work, and that it can make a difference. You couldn’t have said anything better, and I doubt Roxton could have either.’
Silas squeezed his hand. ‘Meanwhile, back at the interval,’ he said cheekily. ‘Roxton knew what the letter meant all the time, but was determined to go through with the show no matter what. He was prepared to do it for you, Archie, because that’s what you do for people.’
‘I rather think I have a habit of putting them in danger.’
‘I think Silas meant, that’s because you inspire people,’ Thomas suggested, and Silas nodded. ‘I interrupted, I’m sorry.’
An apology from Thomas was something to savour, but it was late, and every muscle in Silas’ body ached. He continued the story and explained about Jake dropping the final curtain early, at which point Archer backed him up completely and offered to write to Bursnall if there was any comeback on the boy.
‘That Butterworth man is something of an ogre,’ Archer said.
‘Butterworth!’ Silas slapped his forehead. ‘That was his name. More like Lord Jobs-Worth.’
He went on to describe how he and James had chased Stella, explained about the lead weights, but when he reached the part where he was dangling an inch from death, the words refused to flow.
‘He was trying to save him, Sir,’ James explained. His face was a lively palette of colours, and he held a cold steak over one side, watching the conversation through one eye. ‘Silas had both hands on his arm, and it was only his toes keeping him from being dragged over. He didn’t let go.’
‘I did, Jimmy.’
‘Sorry, Mr Hawkins, but you did not. I took hold of your legs and pulled you. If anything, I was the cause of his fall, but fr
om where I was standing — in a much less stressful situation than you — I clearly saw him withdraw his arm from the glove. He meant to fall.’
‘By the sound of it, he was desperate,’ Archer added.
‘Desperate to the point of being suicidal, Sir,’ James agreed. ‘I mean, if he had gone with his original plan and fired from your box, he would have been at the very least arrested, if not hanged. It makes me think he was under huge pressure from someone to get the job done, but in the end, not prepared to be hanged for it.’
‘Go on.’
James put the steak on a plate. ‘I’m just thinking like Thomas,’ he said, loading a slice of bread with two kinds of cheese and folding it in half. ‘It reads to me as if he had instructions and he was motivated by more than personal revenge, as we suspected. He had his orders. Kill Roxton after or during the speech with the defence that what Roxton was saying was a public outrage. Silas put paid to that, and so did the unexpected royal visit. He had a backup plan, maybe because he disagreed with his orders to shoot and wasn’t prepared to hang. Perhaps he brought the poison with him, I don’t know.’ The bread was at his mouth, but he thought better of eating while speaking and put it down. The others were listening intently. ‘His fallback, as you would call it, Sir, might have been to get backstage and shoot from the rigging, he certainly had a go at it. Or, learning of the backstage tour which you mentioned at dinner, and knowing the opera, he planned to use poison, thereby making sense of the words, “Your final applause.” That way, he could carry out his orders with less fear of detection. When all that went bottoms-up, he panicked, tried to shoot him from the wings, lost the revolver, saw the scenery mechanism, and went for that instead. By the time Silas got to him, he knew he was caught, and the only way out was to use himself as the murder weapon by falling on Roxton. But that’s only conjecture and it’s daft, because if he was willing to die, then why not just shoot the man in the first place? Either way, Silas did his best to stop him falling. I reckon he was a cross-dressing madman. Stella, I mean, not Mr Hawkins.’
He continued eating until he noticed the open mouths and shocked stares.
Surprised at the silence, he put down his sandwich, and said, ‘What?’
‘Bloody hell, Jimmy.’ Archer was impressed. ‘You should be a detective.’
‘It’s easy to analyse things after they’ve happened,’ James said, shrugging off the compliment. ‘Only wish I’d come up with it before.’
‘Well, you’ve come up with an explanation now, apart from one thing.’
‘Sir?’
‘Who would apply such pressure? Who was behind all this? The letter said “We”, didn’t it? It seems so random. They had nothing to gain from killing Cadwell apart from bad publicity for us, and if they were discovered, for themselves. Or himself if he was acting alone, but I don’t think he was. The way you describe it, Jimmy, it sounded like a military operation.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ James said. ‘If I might?’
‘Please do,’ Archer enthused.
‘I hadn’t thought of a military connection. I may have misled you there. I used those expressions, because I learnt them from you when we went to Yorkshire.’
‘You see?’ Thomas said. ‘You are an inspiration, Your Lordship.’
‘And you are part of what inspires me, Tom,’ Archer said. ‘But His Lordship lives upstairs. Go on, Jimmy. Who does your analytical brain tell you was pulling the strings?’
‘It’s obvious. Whoever has a vested interest in the Cleaver Street brothel.’
‘Why? Cadwell didn’t go there of his own volition,’ Archer countered. ‘And if they simply wanted to disrupt the evening, why not choose any member of the male chorus or one of the other principals? I would have been quite grateful if they’d taken a pot shot at Mr McDurling. Quite the wrong casting in my opinion. Did you hear…?’
Silas coughed pointedly and nodded to James.
‘Sorry,’ Archer grimaced. ‘Go on. Why Cadwell?’
‘Because of what he did at Cleaver Street,’ James repeated.
Silas leapt in. ‘No, Jimmy.’ He stared hard across the table. ‘That was the only time he was at that house. I’m sure of it.’
James didn’t understand. ‘But you…’
‘I know. I wasn’t certain before, but I am now.’
Silas should have told James his intentions to keep Roxton’s secret from the viscount, but there hadn’t been time. James didn’t understand why, but he understood he was not meant to discuss the matter further. Silas would explain when they were next alone.
He changed the subject. ‘Anyway, Archie, now you can see why we weren’t able to come to you. You were with the King of wherever and there wasn’t time. I’m sorry I had to make up a few lies in your name. I could have dropped you in it.’
‘Not at all,’ Archer waved it away.
The list of things to love about the man increased. His acceptance of Silas’ actions and his unwavering trust were enough reasons to keep Roxton’s past a secret. If Archer knew his friend had been a regular at Cleaver Street he would be devastated.
‘I think we can say tonight was a success,’ Thomas said, lifting his glass.
‘Thank you, Tom.’ Archer repaid the toast. ‘Thanks to all of you.’
‘I did nothing.’ Fecker had been so busy eating, Silas had forgotten he was there.
‘You did, mate,’ he said. ‘I heard your voice over all the others, and it kept me going.’
Fecker huffed and tore the flesh from a chicken leg in one bite.
‘But I still don’t understand the Cleaver Street thing,’ Archer was not going to let the matter rest.
‘We’ll talk about it in the morning,’ Silas said, directly to James who nodded discreetly. ‘It’s late.’
‘I suppose they will eventually find out who the man was,’ Archer continued. ‘Perhaps that will give us some clues.’
Silas and James exchanged uneasy glances, and Silas couldn’t think of any way to move Archer’s interest along.
‘I have a theory about that too,’ James said. This time, it was him fixing Silas with a stare, and asking to be trusted.
The man had pulled him back from a sixty-foot drop. Silas nodded for him to continue.
‘It seems to me,’ James said, picking his words carefully. ‘That such an establishment has, by its definition, something illegal about it. From what I heard when I was a messenger, it makes its money from offering young men to paying guests. The boys receive a couple of shillings, but the owner gets a lot more. Now…’ He held up his wine glass. ‘Let’s say this is Cleaver Street…’ He moved a plate out of the way and placed the glass. ‘It’s there, on the edge of the West End, and this…’ He placed a pickle pot. ‘Is the opera house.’
‘What’s that?’ Fecker asked, pointing.
‘It’s the salt, Fecks.’ James moved it. ‘But now, it’s the Cheap Street hostel here in Greychurch.’
Fecker frowned. ‘There?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nyet.’ He moved the salt closer to the pickle. ‘Is there.’
‘Fair enough,’ James conceded, with a smile. ‘You’re the driver. Anyway, my point or my suggestion rather, is that the men behind Cleaver Street are not happy that someone such as Your Lordship is making their business more difficult.’
‘I don’t see how,’ Archer said. ‘Our hostel is a plate of ham distant.’
Archer, like the others, was displaying signs of exhaustion and alcohol, a cocktail that allowed the men’s tensions some escape in humour.
‘How does it make it more difficult?’ Thomas asked.
‘Because the Foundation is publicly stating that the way to assist these young men is through charity, not exploitation. If Cleaver Street was discovered, they would be in all k
inds of sh… trouble, while a couple of miles up the road, your foundation is saving the lads from having to resort to that kind of work.’
‘I think I understand,’ Archer said. ‘And I can see your point. So…’ He examined the vaulted ceiling as he thought. ‘Yes, I see now. It’s a good theory, Jimmy, and sets my mind at rest that the whole thing was an assault on my name via a man with an unsullied reputation. It was a random kidnapping.’
‘Lucky timing for them,’ James said, with a sideways glance at Silas. ‘The gala was only made public a few weeks ago.’
‘Which is maybe why Stella, or whoever he was, acted so rashly.’
‘Yes, Sir. No time to plan anything foolproof, but the perfect opportunity to act.’
Archer seemed happy with that explanation, and Silas gave James a thankful smile.
‘But…’ Archer still wouldn’t let it go. ‘It still leaves the question of who these men are.’
‘We can consider that in the morning,’ Thomas suggested.
He stood and, as they had been trained, Fecker and James followed his example. There was no need for Silas to stand, but he did. This was Thomas’ domain, and despite their differences, he was determined to stay on the right side of him.
‘Oh, terribly sorry, Mr Payne.’ Archer scrambled to his feet.
‘I shouldn’t have stood up,’ Thomas mumbled, waving the viscount back into his chair. Archer remained standing. ‘It is late, as you say, Mr Hawkins. You have no visitors tomorrow, Sir, unless Mr Hawkins has any business for you?’
‘I do, Tommy,’ Silas said. ‘But we ain’t going to talk about that kind of thing here.’
Archer cleared his throat. ‘On which note, it’s a bath and bed for me. I’ll see to it myself, Tom, after I’ve helped clear the table.’
‘I don’t think so, Sir.’
‘Sorry, Mr Payne, but His Lordship insists,’ Archer said with a grin. ‘And as you advise, tomorrow, we can put our minds to who this Stella might have been.’
Unspeakable Acts Page 29