Circle of Shadows caw-4

by Imogen Robertson

  After a few moments Rachel managed to say, damply, ‘My apologies, but I have so wished to have you here. However did you manage it? When Colonel Padfield told me you were arriving today, I did not think it possible.’

  Harriet guided Rachel to a chair in a convenient grouping by the fireplace and the gentlemen took their seats opposite the sisters. ‘Michaels, Mrs Clode!’ Graves said, smiling. ‘We would have been another fortnight on the road at least, were it not for him. He knows the lingo and he knows when to press and when not. But that’s all that needs to be said of our journey.’

  ‘Michaels here too? Lord, what trouble we have given you all.’

  Graves leaned forward and took Rachel’s hand with the easy intimacy of long friendship. ‘What of you, my dear? How are you and poor Daniel managing? Verity, Mrs Service and the children send all their love.’

  ‘Their letters outpaced you, just. I had my first words from home only two days ago. Verity said the kindest, wisest things and poor Susan sounded quite distraught.’ She smiled very slightly and freed her hand to wipe her eyes again. It was known that Lady Susan had fallen madly in love with Daniel Clode at the age of nine while he helped save the lives of herself and her younger brother the Earl, and was still, while also loving Rachel sincerely, not quite free of the attachment. ‘I am as well as you might expect. The District Officer, Krall, has been fair, and Colonel and Mrs Padfield have been quite kind. The Colonel is an Englishman employed by the Duke. His wife is a German lady he met here; she accompanies me whenever I am allowed to visit Daniel in Castle Grenzhow and waits in the carriage for me. But none of them know us! They all think Daniel did this terrible thing. They all but confess they think it would have been better if he had died in that horrid little room! Lord, I am so glad you are come! You know he didn’t do it, don’t you?’

  Harriet held her to her side. ‘Of course he didn’t, darling. We have been reading all the papers since this morning.’ She held her away from her for a second. Her sister’s green eyes seemed rather large in her face, and her skin had a grey tinge to it. ‘You have grown thin, my love.’

  ‘I am well, Harry. Only promise me you can make them set Daniel free again and I shall be better.’

  ‘We have enough to save him, even in those papers, I think, thanks to Crowther. But who would do this? Who would frame Daniel for the killing in such a way? And attempt to murder him?’

  She saw a wild hope light in Rachel’s eyes. ‘There was a man! You think so? We have been trying to believe, I have been trying to think, some terrible accident. But who could we have offended so? We are strangers here …’

  ‘And how is Daniel?’ Graves frowned as he asked the question. The letters that had met them on their way had been from Rachel alone. They reported her husband’s health as good and his mind clear, only he seemed unable to remember any more than snatches of the night of the festival parade. No word written by his own hand, however, was found in the packets.

  Rachel leaned into Harriet’s shoulder and Harriet bent to kiss the top of her head.

  ‘Oh Graves, I cannot say. Not well. He says he has bad dreams. The wounds on his wrists are healing cleanly, but he lost a lot of blood — it left him weak and confused for days. He spends hours staring out at the forest from that horrible place and trying to recall.’ She shook her head. ‘I have told him a thousand times I think him incapable of doing harm to that woman, but he tortures himself. He could never have harmed her, could he?’

  ‘Of course not. It is unthinkable,’ Harriet said firmly.

  Rachel peered out from under her honeyish curls towards Crowther. ‘Mr Crowther?’

  He gave a thin smile. ‘Mrs Clode, from all I know of your husband, and all I have read of the matter, I think it highly unlikely.’

  Harriet felt her sister’s body soften slightly against her. ‘Thank you for coming here, Crowther,’ she said.

  ‘Daniel is as innocent as I am,’ Graves said in the same determined tone Harriet had used, ‘but I suppose we must find who the guilty party is indeed before we can convince him. The man has far too much imagination for a lawyer.’

  Harriet almost laughed and tightened her grip around Rachel’s shoulder. ‘We shall certainly do our best. Rachel, has Herr von Krall no other suspects in the case? Has anyone discovered how poor Daniel came to be in such a confused state?’

  Rachel straightened up. ‘No, it is all in the reports I sent along to you.’

  ‘Uncomfortable to have any scandal in court when all eyes are turned in this direction for the Duke’s wedding,’ Crowther said. ‘No wonder then they would like to believe it to be the work of a deranged foreigner.’

  ‘Crowther, for goodness sake!’ Harriet glared across at him, and he gave a slight shrug.

  ‘My apologies, Mrs Clode.’

  ‘I am not offended, Harry. Crowther must say what he likes, he always does after all and he is quite right. But Herr von Krall … he has doubts about Daniel’s guilt, I think. If it weren’t for him, the way he stops sometimes and frowns, I am afraid I could have almost started believing it myself.’

  She was looking down as she finished, so did not see the look of shock that passed over Graves’s face. Harriet could not help noticing the corner of Crowther’s mouth twitch, however. He is proud of her, Harriet thought, for having the courage to doubt her husband.

  ‘Rachel?’ she said out loud. ‘My dear, I am sorry. We are interrogating you within moments of our arrival.’

  Rachel managed to smile. ‘No, Harry. I am sorry to be so weak. I want — all I want is to tell you all I can, but my head is spinning.’

  ‘Darling, are you quite well?’ A suspicion began to form in Harriet’s mind.

  Rachel held onto Harriet’s hand very tightly. ‘Oh Harry, hardly anyone will speak to me, and even those who do only pity me. I have eaten almost every meal alone.’

  ‘You have been in prison too, child,’ Crowther said, as she wiped her eyes.

  ‘Lord, I would do anything to stop crying! Do not indulge me, Crowther. It is a comfortable prison. And my sufferings are nothing to my husband’s.’ She said the word firmly, almost as a declaration. ‘And I have made some friends. There is a pair of brothers I wish you to meet. Mrs Padfield introduced me to them. They, like us, are not members of the nobility here and have helped me a great deal in learning how to behave, who to petition for Daniel. They have a workshop in the palace grounds.’

  Harriet glanced at her sister, then her companions. ‘Perhaps you could take me to see them now, Rachel? I am sure Graves and Crowther will understand if we have a little time to ourselves, and the fresh air will do you good.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘But you have only just arrived … I would not wish to seem ungrateful.’

  Crowther half-closed his eyes. ‘I have spent the better part of the last month in a carriage with your sister and Mr Graves. The greatest kindness you could do me at this moment is to allow me an hour or two alone.’

  Rachel grinned and Harriet caught Crowther’s gaze. She knew he would be pleased with himself when he could hide his thoughtfulness with rudeness. His blue eyes glimmered.

  ‘Of course, Mrs Clode,’ Graves said with his usual smile. ‘I shall find a slightly less travel-worn coat and then go and present our credentials to Chancellor Swann. Crowther, I shall not make you come with me.’

  ‘Thank you, Graves.’

  Graves sighed. ‘Is Swann as dry as his correspondence? Lord, no doubt now they have one of my closest friends locked away they find the time has come to re-negotiate those bonds. Very well, let us wash the dirt from us and try to give the proper impression of importance.’ He leaned forward and patted Rachel’s hand again. ‘Do not fret, my dear. Mrs Westerman and Mr Crowther will return your husband to you.’

  II.5

  Pegel’s room was in an attic in the oldest quarter of the medieval city. As the stairs were uneven and narrow, and he had to fetch his own water and fuel, the rates were low for the space he had. He could have use
d some of the gold in the lining of his coat and bought the whole building, but the money was not his and the man who had given it to him would expect him to account for his spending. In any case his new home suited him. The attic ran the whole length of the building and the south end gable was dominated by a large window which overlooked the small market square of the quarter. The few sticks of furniture provided seemed to make it look more cavernous, it was impossible to heat and if he wanted to avoid freezing as he sat at his desk in the window, he had to carry his fire with him in a brass coal-carrier such as maids cradled to church to keep their mistresses’ feet warm. But it was secure. No one could approach without the complaints of the stairs giving notice, and no one had any business to hover outside his door. Also, for all the chill, he liked the view. It made him feel like some wise bird watching the comings and goings below. A king, or a magician able to watch the people move about on their paths like little walking toys.

  He dropped Florian onto the couch a little heavily — getting him up the stairs had been uncomfortable — rolled his shoulders and crouched down to get a fire going in the grate. When he was satisfied that the flames were alive, and felt a little heat crawling off the coals, he turned his back on them to study his guest. Florian had his chin tucked into his chest and his arms wrapped about him. ‘Your Grace? Does it pain you much? Perhaps we should get you to a sawbones.’

  He looked up sharply at that. ‘No, no, it’s sore is all. I’d rather stay here. And you may call me Florian, if you wish.’ He tried to smile and winced a little.

  Pegel remained seated on the floor by the fire, but extended his hand. ‘Jacob.’ He nodded to the decanter of wine and glasses by the couch. ‘Can you move enough to pour us a glass then, Florian?’

  The young man blushed slightly as his Christian name was spoken as if he were not used to hearing it out loud, but reached over and filled the glasses. Pegel took the glass offered him with his right hand and with his left pushed his hair back, revealing the redness on his jaw. He heard Florian gasp, and was glad that the giant had not pulled his punches.

  ‘I am so sorry you got hurt, Jacob. And thank you for coming to my assistance.’

  Pegel sniffed. ‘Can’t leave a fellow on the ground like that. Not sure what morals I have, but I know that isn’t right.’

  ‘I think you are a good man, Jacob.’

  He yawned and studied the ancient bowing beams above them. ‘Don’t know. I just do as I do and leave good and evil to the priests. It’s why I like numbers. No good and evil there, but there’s still wonder. Here I am, mind of man, that’s all, and now I can explain how the planets move. That I like.’

  Florian was frowning. It seemed a strange expression on that rather childlike face. ‘But you must seek something more than that, Pegel. You are a member of the Brotherhood, are you not? Your watch is marked with symbols. You mentioned a Lodge in Weimar. You are a Freemason, I know it.’

  ‘I … I try to be,’ Pegel said, turning away slightly so he could stare soulfully into the fire while still displaying the reddening on the side of his face. ‘My uncle introduced me to his Lodge and for a while I thought there was some … higher purpose worth serving. But, I don’t know, Florian, mostly I’ve just found it useful as a way to meet people as I travel about. That stuff in the lecture hall today — it’s the work of a man called Laplace I met in one of the Paris Lodges.’

  It was a lie, of course. The work was Laplace’s but Pegel had no uncle and had never been introduced at any Lodge. He knew enough about Freemasonry to fake his way along with a green boy like Florian though, just as he knew the right air of wistful longing to assume when talking about the higher dreams of men.

  He felt a touch on his sleeve and found Florian had reached forward to place a hand on him. His face was terribly earnest. ‘Oh, but there is! There is a purpose, a great purpose.’ He withdrew his hand, and it seemed to Pegel that the room suddenly became a little colder. ‘You must have been wondering why that man attacked me; you have been terribly good by not asking.’

  Pegel gave a little attention to the fire. ‘Not my concern, Florian. Don’t want to intrude.’

  The young voice became firm. ‘It would give me great pleasure to talk on these matters. Before I do though, I must ask you, Jacob Pegel, to swear to keep secret what I reveal to you, by everything you hold dear. I don’t want to sound like an idiot, but it is terribly important.’

  ‘I’ll swear if you like,’ Pegel smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Florian. I know how to keep a secret.’

  II.6

  The sisters left the palace and entered the gardens that lay to the north of the house. Harriet looked over her shoulder. This side of the building was painted pink and white. Huge windows glittered down over them. Directly behind the palace was an artificial lake, large enough to boat on, with another central fountain. Beyond it reared an artificial waterfall and it was guarded by a series of marble heroes and Graces. The high hedgerows behind the statuary were cut into doorways.

  Harriet still thought Rachel’s colour high and her eyes over-bright, so at first she simply told all the news she could think of from Hartswood, then the news of their friends elsewhere.

  ‘So Crowther’s nephew has a son?’ Rachel asked. ‘How was Sophia’s confinement?’

  ‘Sophia seems to have managed very well once she was able to find an accoucheur that Crowther did not think a fool. She is comfortably established in Bath, though I suspect she finds it a little lonely. Did you receive my letter about the Almshouses I plan to have built in the village?’

  ‘Yes, while we were in Berlin. We were pleased to hear that you had …’ Her sentence trailed away.

  ‘… found some occupation other than the investigation of murder?’ Harriet said a trifle dryly. ‘Well, you cannot blame me for involving myself on this occasion.’

  Rachel blushed. ‘I know how it must seem to you, given I have been so opposed to you and Crowther helping others, then to be in so much need of you myself. Perhaps there is some justice in it.’

  Harriet came to a halt and turned her sister towards her.

  ‘Rachel, never say that. There is no justice in this.’ She felt herself watched suddenly and looked about. There were a number of other finely dressed ladies and gentlemen in the garden wandering alone or in small groups. She felt their casual glances touch her and lowered her voice. ‘You do not think I have come here to crow over you? You cannot.’

  ‘No, Harry, of course not, but I have said such things to you in the past. You would have the right.’ Then Rachel seemed to become aware of the looks of the strangers around the lake. ‘This place! They have nothing to do but study each other. Come, this way.’

  She led Harriet through one of the arches in the hedge and Harriet found herself in a small garden room: it contained a number of flower-beds and stone benches, the pathways between them mosaiced with chips of red porphyry and quartz. Rachel, it seemed, was not disposed to linger, but led her through another arch into another such miniature garden, this one with the centrepiece of an ornamental bird-bath, where one of Titan’s handmaidens eternally poured water from a conch for the palace sparrows to wash.

  ‘Rachel, if you leave me now, I shall be lost for ever.’

  Her sister tilted her head to press her cheek briefly against Harriet’s shoulder. ‘I have spent the last forty days wandering through here.’

  ‘Like Christ in the wilderness?’

  ‘My feelings have been hardly Christ-like, and this is an unusual wilderness. Wait until you see the place I am taking you to.’

  ‘The air is doing you good. You sound more like yourself. Now tell me frankly, do you think you are with child?’

  ‘I knew you would realise at once. I was horribly sick this morning, so I suspect so.’

  ‘You must take care of yourself, Rachel. And we must get you home to Caveley.’

  ‘But Caveley is not my home any more. I know that’s not what you meant exactly, Harry, and just hearing you say it, part
of me is sad that Caveley isn’t home any more, but it’s not, not now I am married.’ She lifted her hands as if to examine the wedding ring on her finger, then dropped them again. ‘Have I mentioned that I am terribly, terribly glad that you are here?’

  ‘You have.’

  While Harriet was in the gardens with her sister and Graves was making the acquaintance of Chancellor Swann, Crowther found himself at leisure to arrange his room to his liking and read those documents provided by the District Officer that he had not yet been at liberty to peruse. His respect for Mr von Krall continued to grow. In England he had found, to his cost, that justice was administrated in an arbitrary manner by unimpressive men. What they could not understand made them angry, so they cast about for a solution, and when they had fixed on one, rigorously ignored any contrary evidence presented to them, locking their fleshy jaws remorselessly around the first explanation available.

  Things seemed different here. No matter how convinced the authorities were of Daniel’s guilt, no short-cuts had been taken. No half-measures pursued. Pages and pages of transcript had been collected, every word spoken by Daniel, by the haberdasher, by anyone who had conversation with Lady Martesen that evening, or with Clode. It seemed the lady had become detached from her party a little earlier than Daniel. She had not been seen at the ball at all, though no one had thought at that point to be concerned. Crowther put another page down, not convinced he was learning anything very material to the case in hand, but with a growing sense of admiration for Krall and for Maulberg. When he heard a knock at his door, he half-expected to see the District Officer, but instead there was a gentleman hovering in the doorway of about his own age, and dressed in the splendid green and gold of the soldiers who had accompanied them from the border. Though this gentleman had a great deal more braid about him.

  They made their bows. ‘Forgive the disturbance,’ the military man said in English. He was a vigorous-looking specimen, and showed no sign Crowther could see of the usual dissipation that seemed to come to military men. His skin was clear and his eye sharp. ‘I am Colonel Padfield, and you are Mr Crowther, of course.’