by Amanda Quick
“Damned if I know,” Lucas said.
It said something about the seriousness of the situation and the fortitude of the three ladies sitting in the parlor that none of them paid any attention to his rough language, he thought. But, then, he had a feeling it would take a great deal to shock the three women from the firm of Flint & Marsh.
Evangeline tilted her head very slightly to one side and narrowed her eyes. “You really don’t know what is happening?”
“I can only assume that my uncle’s experiments are somehow to blame,” he said. “The forces at work inside the walls are generated by an underground hot spring. The waters were sacred to the ancients. When the Romans arrived, they constructed a bathhouse on the site because they were convinced the spring waters had invigorating, even healing properties. Later the abbey was established on the same spot. It was believed that the spring waters enhanced the power of prayer and encouraged religious visions. Eventually, however, the abbey was abandoned. My uncle purchased the property about thirty years ago and began to conduct his botanical experiments. Still, things appeared to be more or less under control until the past two years.”
Clarissa tapped one fingertip against the rim of her cup. “What sort of experiments did your uncle carry out?”
“He was well intentioned,” Lucas said. “He created a number of hybrids in an attempt to develop plants with various psychical properties. He was searching for new sources of medicine and faster-growing, more productive crops. But at some point, things began to go wrong. The vegetation is taking over. The gardens have become a dangerous jungle. Some areas are almost completely inaccessible.”
“No wonder there is talk of the occult,” Beatrice said.
“In the past two years at least three intruders have managed to get as far as the maze and perhaps all the way into the Night Garden,” Lucas continued. “Uncle Chester could not be certain because the bodies disappeared.”
“Why on earth would anyone take the risk of trespassing into such a dangerous place?” Beatrice asked.
Lucas looked at Evangeline. “Perhaps Miss Ames would like to take that question.”
She flushed, looking rather like a girl who had been caught sneaking out of the house to meet a boy, he thought.
“I was bored and I got curious,” she said with a touch of cool defiance. “That’s the only reason I went into the gardens. I wasn’t reckless. I just did some exploring. I certainly did not attempt the maze.”
“Most likely because it was locked,” Lucas said.
Evangeline’s face turned a brighter shade of red but she pretended she had not heard the implied accusation.
“Miss Ames’s curiosity aside,” Lucas continued, “the chief reason a few adventurous souls have attempted to enter the maze and the Night Garden is the legend of the treasure.”
Clarissa brightened. “Yes, Miss Witton at the bookshop mentioned it today. A hoard of Roman gold is believed to be buried somewhere on the grounds.”
“There is nothing like the prospect of finding a chest of golden objects to attract treasure hunters,” Lucas said. “But for the most part the forces in the Night Garden frighten off would-be trespassers.”
“Those who do get inside are rarely seen again,” Clarissa concluded.
“Generally speaking, no,” Lucas said.
“I have heard the tales of ghosts and demonic forces,” Evangeline said. “But I discounted most of the more dramatic gossip. The thought of people vanishing into the gardens and being consumed by the plants is actually a good deal more chilling than explanations that involve the supernatural.”
Clarissa frowned. “She’s got that look, Bea.”
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “I recognize it.”
Lucas studied Evangeline’s thoughtful expression. “What look?”
“Evangeline always gets that expression when she is contemplating a new plot idea for her story,” Clarissa explained. “I believe your talk of carnivorous plants has inspired her.”
Lucas suppressed a groan. “I assure you, that was not my intent.”
“Never mind,” Beatrice said. “One grows accustomed to Evangeline’s odd little habits. Back to the subject of the maze. You were obviously able to enter it if you found Hobson’s body inside.”
Reluctantly he dragged his attention away from Evangeline. “Yes. My uncle could navigate it as well. It is possible to make one’s way through the maze if one possesses a fair amount of talent. But even then there are any number of dangers, such as the poisonous thorns and vines that can lock around a wrist or an ankle and chain a man as securely as an iron manacle.”
Evangeline brightened. “Would you mind if I took a moment to fetch a pen and some paper? I’d like to make some notes.”
“Yes, I would mind, Miss Ames.” Lucas put some steel into his voice. “In case you have not noticed, we have other priorities here.”
“Right.” Evangeline picked up her cup and got a faraway look in her eyes.
Lucas set his teeth. She was making notes in her head, he thought.
“Evie told us that your uncle died in the gardens,” Beatrice said. “Did he fall afoul of one of those dreadful plants?”
“Actually he died at the breakfast table. That is where his housekeeper, Mrs. Buckley, found him.”
Evangeline frowned. “But I understood that he collapsed somewhere on the grounds.”
“The gossips never get the facts straight,” Lucas said. “The locals prefer to believe that he was killed by supernatural forces. Make no mistake, I’m convinced he was murdered, but not by demons or spirits from the Otherworld.”
Evangeline exchanged looks with Clarissa and Beatrice. Lucas sensed the woman’s curiosity and gathering excitement. They all loved the thrill that accompanied a mystery, he thought. Something to do with their talents, no doubt.
“Have you got a motive for your uncle’s death?” Clarissa demanded.
“Not yet,” Lucas said. “But I suspect it is connected to his recent discovery in the Gardens.”
Beatrice was enthralled. “What discovery was that, sir?”
“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted. “All I got was a short, very cryptic telegram telling me that he had discovered something of great importance in the Night Garden. He died before I could make time to come here to see for myself.”
“Weren’t you curious, sir?” Evangeline asked.
“You must understand that Chester was always sending word of new botanical discoveries and the results of his latest experiments,” Lucas said. “If I had come to Crystal Gardens every time I got a message from him telling me of some fantastic new hybrid, I would have been here every week.”
“But this time he may have stumbled onto something truly valuable or important, is that what you believe?” Evangeline asked.
“It seems a likely explanation but there are others,” he said.
“Did your uncle have any enemies?” Beatrice asked.
“None that I know of,” Lucas said. “Most people considered him a crackpot. But there are a handful of other botanists engaged in similar experiments. Not many, of course, given the paranormal nature of the work. But some of those whom he considered colleagues could more properly be classified as rivals.”
“So professional jealousy might have been a factor,” Evangeline said.
“This is all quite fascinating,” Clarissa mused.
“I should dearly love to see your Gardens, Mr. Sebastian,” Beatrice said.
“As would I,” Clarissa said.
“I would also like to take a proper tour of Crystal Gardens.” Evangeline brightened.
“I will be happy to show all of you the sections that I feel are still safe,” Lucas said.
“Wonderful,” Beatrice exclaimed.
“How exciting,” Clarissa added.
Evangeline smiled. “Thank you, sir. As you can see, there is a great deal of enthusiasm for a tour.”
“The grounds are most interesting after dark,” Lucas said. He did
not take his attention off her. “I shall arrange a tour tonight on one condition.”
Evangeline made a face. “You want more details about my last case, don’t you?”
“As I am now involved in whatever is going on as a result of that situation, I think it’s important that I know more about it,” he said.
Evangeline hesitated. “We still don’t know if the attempted murder is linked to the Rutherford affair.”
They all looked at her. No one spoke.
She sighed. “But you are right. It is too much to believe that there is no connection. For the life of me, I cannot imagine what it would be. I will tell you the story tonight when we view the Gardens.”
Nine
That night the three of them stood with Lucas on the terrace of the country house and watched the gardens and the gazebo glow in the moonlight.
“Spectacular,” Clarissa breathed. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“But one can certainly feel the ominous undercurrents in this place,” Beatrice added. “They are detectable even to my normal senses.” A visible shudder went through her. “I can well understand why your uncle did not have a great many problems with intruders, Mr. Sebastian.”
“No,” Lucas said. He looked at Evangeline. “Most could not get as far as you did, Miss Ames.”
“Well, I do have some talent,” Evangeline said coolly. “And I find this place quite fascinating.”
He smiled. In the silvery radiance her face was shadowed and mysterious.
“Yes,” he said. “I can see that.” He paused a beat. “I would remind you that we had an agreement.”
“You may as well tell him the story,” Clarissa said.
“I agree,” Beatrice said. “I think we can trust Mr. Sebastian. He will not gossip.”
Evangeline folded her arms beneath her breasts. “There is not much to tell. It was a routine case. The client was an elderly woman, Lady Rutherford, who had developed some suspicions about the man who wished to marry her granddaughter. The girl’s parents would not listen to her. They believed it to be a brilliant match and the young lady herself thought her suitor very handsome and charming. Mr. Mason could be … quite convincing.”
“The press made that point,” Lucas said.
“I took the post of companion to the client. In that guise I accompanied the lady to several affairs at which the suitor was also present, a garden party, a reception, a ball, that sort of thing. I knew the first time I saw him that Mason was a fraud, of course. The problem was proving it.”
Lucas frowned. “Your talent allowed you to perceive his deception?”
Evangeline hesitated a beat too long before she answered. “In a manner of speaking. Naturally he never looked twice at me.”
Lucas smiled. “Because you were just the grandmother’s companion.”
“It is amazing what a pair of spectacles, a gray wig and an unfashionable gown will do to alter a person’s appearance,” Beatrice said.
“I am well aware that most people see only what they expect to see,” Lucas said. “Go on with your story, Miss Ames. I presume you informed your client that her suspicions were correct.”
“Yes, and she tried to persuade the girl’s parents to look more deeply into Mason’s finances. But, as I said, he was very clever when it came to concealing his true nature. Lady Rutherford was beside herself with anxiety. So I set out to find proof.”
Lucas realized he was fascinated, as if he were gazing into a crystal ball. “You obtained this evidence?”
“Yes.” Evangeline moved one hand slightly. “That is my talent, you see. I am very, very good at finding things. It’s just a knack, really, an occasionally useful knack, mind you. But it was nothing more than a parlor trick until I joined the Flint and Marsh Agency.”
“I can see where it might be a useful talent in your career as an investigator,” Lucas said.
“To make a long story short, I was able to locate some documents that made it plain that Mason was a fraud. The young lady’s father was shocked and outraged. He immediately sent Mason packing. Lady Rutherford dismissed me quietly and paid her bill. That should have been the end of the matter and the conclusion of the case.”
A whisper of dark knowing iced Lucas’s senses. “But it was not the end of the matter, was it? Mason somehow discovered that you were the one who had exposed him.”
Evangeline turned her head in sharp surprise. Clarissa and Beatrice were equally startled.
“How did you—?” Evangeline stopped. “Never mind. I should have known you would guess the truth. You are correct, of course. He must have watched me after I left Lady Rutherford’s house. He set a trap. I received what I thought was a message from one of my father’s old friends. Something to do with the discovery of some old shares of stock that Papa had owned that had suddenly become valuable. I immediately went around to the address that I had been given.”
“The deserted building near the docks where Mason’s body was later found,” Lucas said. “You met him there.”
Evangeline tightened her folded arms. “Yes.”
Beatrice sighed.
Clarissa stirred. “You are very intuitive, Mr. Sebastian.”
“Please continue, Miss Ames,” Lucas said.
“When I arrived at the address I had been given I had to go up a steep flight of stairs. Mason had concealed himself in a room at the top of the landing. He put a knife to my throat.”
“Just as Hobson attempted to do last night.” Lucas suppressed the dark fury inside him with an act of will. “Damn the bastard to hell,” he said very softly.
He became aware of the crystalline silence that had enveloped the terrace. All three women were staring at him, he realized. He reined in the unfocused energy that he was generating.
It was Clarissa who spoke first. “He came so close. It chills me even now to think about it.”
“You may as well tell me the rest of the story, Evangeline,” Lucas said.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Beatrice and Clarissa exchange glances. It dawned on him that he had used Evangeline’s first name. The small act of familiarity had not passed unnoticed. Under the circumstances, Evangeline’s friends very likely found the implied intimacy more shocking than the strong language he had employed a moment earlier to describe Mason.
“Mason emerged from what I had assumed was an empty room,” Evangeline said. Her voice was unnaturally even and far too steady. “He put his arm around my throat. The knife was in his other hand. He said he was going to punish me for what I had done. He said that if I did not cooperate in my own rape, he would kill me. I knew that he intended to kill me regardless so I concluded I had little to lose. We struggled. He lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. He broke his neck. I fled the scene.”
Without a word Clarissa touched Evangeline’s arm in a small gesture of comfort. Beatrice moved closer to both of them.
Lucas stood very still. The darkness roared and thrashed within him. There was nothing he could do, he reminded himself. Mason was dead. But the black energy howled silently at the loss of prey. He concentrated on controlling his talent.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Evangeline, Clarissa and Beatrice were all watching him warily. He sensed their tension and knew that he was the source. He worked harder to restrain the prowling hunger.
“You are quite certain that Mason is dead?” he asked.
The question broke the unnatural stillness of the atmosphere. Evangeline relaxed first. Clarissa and Beatrice took deep breaths.
Now I’ve done it, Lucas thought. I’ve terrified all three of them.
But Evangeline, at least, did not seem fearful, just cautious.
“I’m absolutely positive that Douglas Mason died that day,” she said. “There can be no doubt.”
“Yet someone has gone to the trouble of hiring a man to kill you,” Lucas concluded. “The only logical assumption is that there is a connection between the two incidents. But even if I am wrong, it is obvious
that someone has some extremely unpleasant intentions toward you.”
Clarissa’s mouth tightened. “Mr. Sebastian is correct, Evie. Hobson came from the streets but we must assume this crime has its roots in the Rutherford affair. That is a world Flint and Marsh knows well. Beatrice and I will return to London tomorrow morning and inform our employers of what has happened.”
“We shall commence an investigation immediately,” Beatrice said. “Between Mr. Sebastian’s efforts in the criminal underworld and our own knowledge of society, we will discover who is behind this.”
“I will return to London with you,” Evangeline said. She unfolded her arms and made to go back into the house. “We must return to the Cottage and start packing at once.”
“I do not think that would be wise,” Lucas said.
Evangeline and the others looked at him.
“Why not?” Evangeline said. “This is my affair. I know more of the particulars than anyone else. I can assist in the inquiries.”
“Consider this from the point of view of whoever is after you,” Lucas said patiently. “In the city you will be far more vulnerable than you are here in the country.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked. “I am at home in the city. I know it well.”
“Perhaps, but it appears that the villain is equally at home there. Otherwise he would not have known how to do business with the likes of a criminal such as Sharpy Hobson. What is more, he will find it easier to get close to you in an urban environment. Here in the country strangers wandering around the neighborhood are noticed.”
“I would remind you, sir, that I was attacked here, not in London,” Evangeline said.
“At night,” Lucas pointed out. “When you were certain to be alone in the cottage. Sharpy Hobson did not try to kill you during the daytime because there was far too much risk that someone would have noticed him either coming to or going from the scene.”
“Are you suggesting that Evangeline continue to stay alone in the cottage?” Clarissa asked. “Given what has occurred, I hardly think that is a sound idea.”
“I agree,” Lucas said. “Therefore, I suggest that she move here to Crystal Gardens.”