What Darkness Brings sscm-8

by C. S. Harris

  “I did not.”

  “His account of those days makes interesting reading. He was convinced some sort of treachery was afoot. He says there was no conceivable reason why an attack on Paris wasn’t launched immediately.”

  “But there was eventually a battle.”

  “Eventually. Although it was more in the nature of a small skirmish. And after that, Brunswick simply. . withdrew. The next day, the National Convention abolished the monarchy and declared France a republic. And barely four months after that, Louis XVI was beheaded.”

  “You’re saying Collot was right-that Brunswick was bribed?”

  “According to the rumors, his price was five million livres.”

  “With part of the payment being delivered in the form of the French Blue?”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  He looked over at her. “And is the rumor true?”

  “I’ve never been told.”

  Which did not, he realized, exactly answer his question.

  Their gazes met. And he knew it again, that awareness that no matter how close they might become, Jarvis’s shadow-and Hero’s loyalty to her father-would always be between them.

  She said, “After everything you’ve learned about Eisler-the blackmail, the financial exploitation, the sexual debauchery-you still think the mystery surrounding this blue diamond is somehow involved in his death?”

  “Somehow, yes.”

  She nodded as if coming to a decision and rose to her feet. “Then you might find it useful to speak to a certain colonel in the Black Brunswickers named Otto von Riedesel. He was in Spain with Wellington up until a few months ago, when he was wounded. But before that he served the old Duke of Brunswick.”

  Sebastian swiped the towel at a drop of water running down his cheek, then tossed it aside. A corps of volunteers raised by the current Duke of Brunswick to fight against Napoleon, the Black Brunswickers were known for their brutality.

  And for their fierce desire for revenge.

  Chapter 33

  Wednesday, 23 September

  At dawn the next morning, Colonel Otto von Riedesel was exercising a magnificent black Hanoverian on the Row in Hyde Park when Sebastian brought his own Arab mare in beside him.

  The colonel glanced over at Sebastian, then looked away, his jaw set hard. A big man with a full ruddy face, small brown eyes, and a swooping mustache, he wore the uniform of the Black Brunswickers-or the Black Horde, as they were sometimes called. As a symbol of their state of mourning for the occupied Duchy of Brunswick-now under the control of Napoleon-the corps’ entire uniform was black: black boots, black trousers, black dolman, black shako. The only touches of color came from the blue of his dolman’s collar and the Brunswicker silver death’s-head on his black shako.

  The two men trotted along in a strained silence filled with the creak of saddle leather, the pounding of their horses’ hooves on the wet earth, the chorus of birdsong rising from the sparrows waking in the misty elms lining the path. At last, as if goaded beyond endurance, the Brunswicker exclaimed, “Vhat the hell do you vant from me?”

  “I think you know the answer to that.”

  Von Riedesel gave a loud snort.

  Sebastian said, “When Daniel Eisler was murdered, he had in his possession a large blue diamond. I’m told that diamond was previously held by the late Duke Carl Wilhelm of Brunswick.”

  “I am a simple soldier. Vhat makes you think I know of such things?”

  “The diamond in question is in all probability a recut version of a stone that once formed part of the French Crown Jewels.”

  The colonel reined in hard, the red of his cheeks darkening to an angry hue, his horse chafing at the bit. “If you mean to suggest that the present Duke’s father allowed himself to be bribed into-”

  “I’m not suggesting anything,” said Sebastian calmly. “I frankly couldn’t care less how the Duke came into possession of the French Blue. I want to know what happened to the gem between the time it was acquired by Carl Wilhelm and when it showed up in the possession of Daniel Eisler.”

  “I told you; I know nothing of this.” Von Riedesel set his spurs to his horse’s sides, and the black Hanoverian leapt forward.

  Sebastian kept pace with him. “You’re quite certain of that, are you?”

  “Yes!”

  “I suppose you’re right; I should have directed my questions to the Prince Regent. As the Duke’s son-in-law and executor of his will, Prinny would surely know what happened to the diamond after the Duke’s death.” Sebastian showed his teeth in a smile. “Sorry to have troubled you, Colonel. Good day.”

  He was turning his horse’s head toward the gate when von Riedesel stopped him. “Wait!”

  Sebastian paused, one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

  “Ride on vith me a moment,” snapped the Brunswicker.

  Sebastian fell in beside him again.

  Von Riedesel said, “Vhat I have to tell you is in the strictest confidence.”

  “Of course.”

  The Brunswicker set his jaw. “Six years ago, vhen it became obvious that Napoleon was liable to overrun Brunswick, Duke Carl Wilhelm decided to send his jewel collection to his daughter for safekeeping.”

  “You mean to Princess Caroline.”

  “Yes.”

  Sebastian studied the Colonel’s tight red face. “He entrusted you to bring it here, did he?”

  Von Riedesel nodded. “I carried it in my personal luggage. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long after I arrived in London that word reached us of the Duke’s death in battle. His vidowed Duchess-your own English Princess Augusta-fled to London and sought refuge with her daughter.” He hesitated, then said, “This was in 1806. You know of the shameful straits under which the Prince forced his wife to live?”

  “I know,” said Sebastian.

  It was in 1806 that the Prince first instituted a governmental inquiry against Caroline in an attempt to rid himself of the wife he’d loathed at first sight. He accused her of everything from witchcraft to adultery, but in the end the “delicate investigation” failed in its objective. In retaliation, the Prince-spoiled, petulant, and endlessly indulgent of himself and his string of mistresses-cut off virtually all funds to his wife’s household, leaving her in near poverty.

  “In other words,” said Sebastian, staring off toward the river, where the early morning mist was beginning to lift as the sun rose higher into a soft blue sky, “Caroline began selling her father’s gem collection to pay for her and her mother’s living expenses.”

  “Discreetly, of course.”

  “She must have been very discreet, if Prinny never caught wind of it.”

  Von Riedesel gave a slight bow. “Just so.”

  It suddenly struck Sebastian as deliciously ironic that the rare blue diamond now reportedly coveted by the Crown Prince had been previously sold behind his back by his own wife. “And the French Blue?”

  “I never said Duke Carl Wilhelm possessed the French Blue. He did, however, have in his collection a large diamond of the darkest sapphire.”

  Sebastian ducked his head to hide his smile. “Who bought this large blue diamond from Caroline?”

  “You don’t seriously expect me to tell you that, do you?”

  “No. But you can tell me if I’m wrong. It was Hope, wasn’t it? Not Henry Philip Hope, but Thomas.”

  Wordlessly, the Black Brunswicker kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, his body rising and falling in tireless synchronicity with his horse’s motion.

  Hero was standing in the entry hall, her head bowed as she worked at buttoning her gloves, when Sebastian walked in the house.

  “Another crossing sweep interview?” he asked, handing his rid-

  ing crop, hat, and gloves to Morey.

  She wore a white cambric walking dress with a high-collared spencer of blue silk ruched down the front. “Yes,” she said, her attention all for her buttons, which were extensive. “I’m particularly looking forward to this one. It’s a little g
irl.” She looked up, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. And he found himself wondering again, unpleasantly, just how much-and what-she knew that she wasn’t telling him. She said, “Discovered something interesting, have you?”

  He cast a significant glance toward the library, and she walked ahead of him into the room, going to stand beside the empty hearth while he quietly closed the door.

  He said, “How did you know that the late Duke of Brunswick sent his jewel collection to his daughter the Princess of Wales for safekeeping?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  He studied her flawlessly composed face. The problem was that the most obvious explanation-that she had heard it from her father-made no sense. Jarvis had always served the King and the Crown Prince; yet von Riedesel and Caroline had maneuvered behind the Prince on this. So why had Jarvis kept their secret?

  She said, “Was von Riedesel able to tell you who bought the French Blue?”

  “He claims the big blue diamond from the Duke’s collection did not come from the French Crown Jewels. But the gem in question was indeed purchased by Thomas Hope.”

  “So Collot told you the truth?”

  “He did. The problem is, I don’t understand how Collot could have come to have that interesting piece of information. I’m also puzzled as to why Hope would be selling the stone now. He told me himself that this is not a good time to be selling gems. So why is he putting one of the most famous diamonds in the world on the market?”

  “There are rumors. . ”

  “Yes?” he prompted when she hesitated.

  “The wars are putting an increasing strain on both international merchants and the old-style banking companies. The disruption of trade has simply been too extensive and gone on far too long.”

  “Are you saying Hope and Company is in financial trouble?”

  She nodded. “I understand things have reached such a pass that they may soon be forced to sell to the Barings. They’re trying to hold off, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time.”

  “The sale of a large, rare diamond might conceivably raise enough to keep the company afloat.”

  “It might. . if the value of gems weren’t so sadly depressed at the moment.”

  Sebastian went to lean one hip against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed at his chest.

  “What?” asked Hero, watching him.

  “Now, there’s a motive for murder I hadn’t considered.”

  Hero shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “Eisler was more than just a diamond merchant; he was a wealthy man in his own right. What if he was unable to sell the diamond for the price Hope wanted? Hope might have decided to kill Eisler and steal his own gem so that he could claim the estimated value of the stone from Eisler’s estate and still keep the diamond.”

  She huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Thomas Hope? You can’t be serious.”

  “You’d be surprised at the things men will do when they get desperate.”

  She shook her head. “No. I don’t believe it. He’s not that kind of man.”

  “I must admit it seems an unlikely explanation to me, although for a different reason.”

  “What’s that?”

  Sebastian pushed away from the desk. In his mind’s eye, he again saw a desperate figure running down a muddy alley, heard the crack of a rifle, felt the spill of warm blood over his hands as he raised a dying boy into his arms.

  “The shooter in the carriage.”

  Chapter 34

  Thomas Hope was supervising a couple of workmen repairing the skylight in his fifty-foot-long picture gallery when Sebastian paid a call on the banker’s Duchess Street mansion.

  “I ask you,” exclaimed the little man in disgust, his mouth puckering furiously, “how difficult can it be to construct a skylight that doesn’t leak?”

  Sebastian squinted up at the ornately plastered ceiling, its lavish, pale-blue-and-white-swagged medallions marred by an ugly brown stain. “I suppose that depends on how much it rains.”

  Hope grunted. “Fortunately, the gallery is wide enough that none of the paintings were damaged. But look at what it’s done to the upholstery of the banquettes! And I only just had them recovered in this lovely pale blue fabric.”

  “Tragic,” agreed Sebastian. “Could I speak with you a moment in private?”

  “Of course,” said Hope, padding flat-footedly beside Sebastian toward the far end of the gallery. “I take it you’re still looking into the death of Daniel Eisler?”

  “I am.” Sebastian hesitated. The man was so earnest and eager that it seemed the height of incivility to accuse him even of dissembling, let alone of something as sordid as murder. “I had an interesting conversation this morning with an individual who contradicted some of the things you told me the other day.”

  “Oh?”

  “In fact, he confirmed the information I was originally given.” Sebastian paused to rub the back of one knuckle against the side of his nose. “When one person tells me something, I generally try to keep an open mind about its veracity. But when two completely disparate individuals provide the same information, I’m inclined to believe them.”

  Hope stared back at him, his eyes narrowing, his face hardening. The man might come across as affable and effete, but it would never do to forget that he owned a company that lent money to kings and emperors. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Then let me be more blunt. I think the blue diamond Daniel Eisler had in his possession when he was killed was recut from the French Blue, and he was selling it for you. I can promise to try to keep the transaction private, but not at the expense of an innocent man’s life.”

  Hope walked over to stand before a massive Rubens, his head tipping back as he stared up at the towering canvas. “I don’t think you quite understand what’s at stake here,” he said quietly. “This isn’t about the possibility of a legal challenge from the Bourbons. If the diamond is indeed the French Blue-and I’m not saying that it is-then it has been recut. So while there might be speculation, the association could never be proven.”

  “True. But I don’t think it’s the Bourbons you’re worried about, is it?”

  Hope cast a quick glance over his shoulder at the workmen on the scaffold and shook his head. His voice dropped even lower. “Napoleon Bonaparte has spent the last eight years in a determined effort to reassemble the French Crown Jewels. He sees the treasure’s loss as a blow to France’s honor, to the point that its recovery has become an obsession with him. And the most precious of all the French Crown Jewels was the diamant bleu de la Couronne. It’s why he was so determined to overrun the Duchy of Brunswick and ransack the palace-because he was convinced he’d find the French Blue there. And he was furious when he didn’t.”

  “So Napoleon knows the revolutionary government bribed the Duke?”

  “I doubt the world will ever know the truth of what happened at Valmy in 1792. But there have always been rumors. And one must remember that Napoleon is himself a general. I’ve heard it said that in his opinion, a bribe is the only explanation that makes sense out of what happened at Valmy. All I know is that, somehow, he found out Eisler had a large blue diamond for sale.”

  “You know this for certain?”

  Hope nodded. “One of his agents approached Eisler last Saturday morning.”

  “Who?” asked Sebastian sharply. “Who was this agent?”

  “Eisler wouldn’t say. He was very nervous, for obvious reasons. When it comes to the search for the French Crown Jewels, Napoleon has proven himself utterly. .” Hope hesitated, as if searching for the right word, then settled for: “Ruthless.”

  “Not to mention lethal,” said Sebastian. “So why not agree to sell him the stone?”

  Hope gave a low laugh that rumbled in his chest. “The Emperor has a bad reputation when it comes to paying for his purchases. You’ve heard that Eisler provided the diamond necklace Napoleon presented to Empress Marie Louise as a wed
ding gift?”

  “Yes.”

  “The final payment was never made. Eisler lost a small fortune on the transaction. Napoleon’s attitude is that the honor of supplying his exalted personage should be reward enough.”

  “It’s a tendency he unfortunately shares with the Prince Regent,” said Sebastian dryly.

  “True. But anyone selling jewels to Prinny learned long ago to require payment up front and in cash.”

  “So why not do the same with the Emperor?”

  “Because Prinny’s agents don’t generally kill recalcitrant sellers and steal their merchandise. Napoleon’s do.”

  “Are you suggesting that is what happened to Eisler?”

  Hope gave another quick glance around. “It makes sense. Don’t you think?”

  “So you’re saying the diamond is missing?”

  Hope’s features contorted with a spasm of anxiety. “It is, yes.”

  Sebastian studied the small man’s mobile, expressive face. “Who besides you knew Eisler had the blue diamond?”

  “It’s difficult to say with any certainty. People talk. Someone obviously did, or else how did Napoleon’s agent know to approach Eisler?”

  “And did this French agent know the identity of the stone’s true owner?”

  “No. How could he? Unless Eisler told him.”

  “Are you so certain that he did not?”

  Hope looked momentarily confused. “Why would Eisler tell him?”

  “In an attempt to save his own life, perhaps?”

  Sebastian watched the banker suck his lower lip between his teeth as the color drained from his homely face. Taking pity on the man, Sebastian said, “If Napoleon’s agent did kill Eisler and recover the diamond, then the French would have no reason now to come after you.”

  “Yes. But what if the French don’t have the diamond? What if someone else murdered Eisler and stole the gem? Or what if Eisler was murdered for some other reason entirely and Samuel Perlman now has the diamond?”