by Anna Elliott
Mrs. Haliday laughed, her taut expression relaxing as she followed Ruth’s glance. She and Ruth moved off together, following the stream of revelers towards the main lawn. And Susanna approached Major Haliday.
“Major Haliday?” The Major turned unfocused eyes on her, and she went on, making her voice sound timid and slightly quavering. “Would you . . . do you think you might be so kind as to accompany me on a walk? I’m afraid I do not at all care for the fireworks displays myself. All that noise. And the fire. I am always so afraid someone might be blown to smithereens.”
She wondered as she spoke whether she was laying it on too thickly—but Major Haliday puffed out his chest and patted her hand. “Of course, my dear young lady. Of course. I know what women’s nerves are. Just you stay with me. I’ll look after you.”
Chapter 17
Major Haliday offered Susanna his arm, and she took it, moving off with him along the gravel paths that twined this way and that through the groves of trees. Luckily, the Major was too drunk to notice that Susanna was in fact choosing their direction. She steered him around the main square of the Gardens, where most of the spectators were assembled, and then, her hand still on Major Haliday’s arm, began to thread a way towards the eastern wall of the enclosure.
As she passed the waiting crowd, she did have the brief satisfaction of seeing Marianne and Mr. Foster, deep in conversation, standing under an overhanging tree. Though that was by far the pleasantest aspect of the walk. Major Haliday had apparently reached the maudlin stage of drunkenness, and was airing his grievances against the world, one by one: his gambling debts, the heartlessness of his creditors, the unfeeling behavior of his wife.
“You wouldn’t think it to look at her,” Major Haliday slurred at Susanna on a gust of alcoholic breath. “But she’s a hard woman, Helen is. A very hard woman. She doesn’t understand me—doesn’t understand me at all. You may not believe me, but I’m a very lonely man, Miss Ward.”
He leaned towards her, his breath hot in her ear—and Susanna had to hold herself in check to keep from physically recoiling. They had entered the Lover’s Walk. The lanterns were fewer and farther between, and the way dark. Susanna saw several couples, arms intertwined, taking advantage of the dimness for a covert meeting.
She was praying the grove where she was to meet James might be close by when they finally emerged into a clearing with a statue—she hoped it was indeed the statue of Milton—in the center. She let out a breath of relief. And in the same moment, Major Haliday pulled her closer, one arm circling her waist as he looked down at her. “By Jove, you are a dashed handsome girl,” he said in a hoarse voice.
Susanna’s skin crawled. She had managed to remain civil so that she might lure Major Haliday here—but she drew the line at actually being kissed by him. She planted both hands against the Major’s chest and shoved as hard as she could.
Had the Major been sober, he might have easily overpowered her. But he was drunk and unsteady enough on his feet that her push sent him toppling backwards onto the ground. He landed with a jarring thud, and his face darkened with anger. “Now see here—” he began.
But in the same moment, Susanna saw James—still dressed in the black garb of the highwayman—striding towards them. Susanna let out her breath in a rush of relief and stepped back from the Major. “Do you know, I believe I should like to see the fireworks display after all.” She spoke rapidly. “It is supposed to be the highlight of any trip to Vauxhall, and it would be a shame to miss it.”
Before the Major could answer, she darted away up one of the paths, nearly caroming into another courting couple, who looked at her resentfully before moving on. Susanna leaned against the trunk of a tree to catch her breath. She and James had not discussed what she would do after she had brought Major Haliday to the Milton Grove. And it was imperative, of course, that she remain out of sight, so that the Major would not suspect her of being part of a plot. But that did not mean she might not contrive to overhear what James and Major Haliday said.
Moving cautiously, Susanna retraced her steps, skirting the grove and fetching up behind a thick clump of hedges. The screen of bushes and the darkness were enough—she hoped—to conceal her from sight. But the grove was lighted by a single lantern, casting enough glow for her to see Major Haliday and James. The Major was still sprawled on the ground where Susanna’s push had sent him, and as Susanna watched, James took the other man by the collar and hauled him—none too gently—to his feet.
James said something—Susanna could not hear what—in a low tone, and Major Haliday sputtered angrily.
The Major’s matador costume was disheveled, his collar undone, and he swayed a little as he said in a belligerent tone, “Now see here. Just who the hell do you think you are?”
James’s voice was cool—pleasant, even—though Susanna caught the undercurrent of anger. “Who I am is hardly important. Of far more importance is who you are. Or rather, what you are.”
The Major blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you’ve been working as a spy, stealing military information from Admiral Tremain and passing it to French agents in this country.”
Susanna heard Major Haliday draw in his breath with a gasp, though he tried to bluster.
“I don’t know what you mean. Never been so insulted. I ought—”
James’s voice, sharp as the crack of a whip, cut across Major Haliday’s protestations.
“Don’t trouble to deny it. You were seen last night. At the Blue Fountain.”
The Major stared at James. And then his face turned sullen. Rather like a sulky little boy, caught with his hand in the jelly jar, Susanna thought. “Now see here. I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.”
James’s mouth, beneath the black edges of the mask, looked tight with distaste. But he said, still calmly, “You don’t have to, but it would be a far wiser course for you if you did.”
“Give me one good reason why I should.” Major Haliday’s voice was angry.
“I can think of several. But for one thing, this pistol”—Susanna heard the sound of it being drawn from James’s belt—“is no costume affair. It’s quite real and fully loaded. If you listen, you’ll hear that the fireworks have started.” A boom in the distance proved the truth of the words. “No one would notice the sound of a gun going off now.”
Major Haliday’s face blanched. “Now look here, who are you? And how did you find out?”
“You admit it’s true, then?”
“Seems there’s no use my telling you it’s not,” Major Haliday muttered. His voice was once more resentful, sullen. “And what do you intend to do about it? Turn me in as a traitor?”
James’s gaze rested on him a moment, and then he said, “Not immediately. First, I should like to know how you came to be involved in the scheme.”
Major Haliday hesitated a moment. Then: “Look here,” he said. His tone changed, and became faintly wheedling. He swayed forwards, putting a hand on James’s shoulder. “There’s money in this. A great deal of money. I could let you in on the business.”
“We’ll . . . we will discuss that later,” James said. “For now, just tell me how you became involved.”
James really was very good at this, Susanna thought. His voice was hard, a little over-loud. The voice of a man struggling—for the moment successfully—with temptation. But with just enough uncertainty to give Major Haliday hope that he might yet bribe his way out of this.
Major Haliday said, his voice eager now, “It was a few months back. I was hard-up for money. Made one or two unlucky bets on the horses. Lost money at cards, that sort of thing. At any rate, I didn’t know what I was to do, and then, out of the blue, a letter arrived, asking whether I’d like to earn an easy fifty pounds. I was to leave a reply under a certain bench in Regent’s Park. Well, I jumped at the chance, I can tell you. I left a note
saying I was ready for anything, and the next day a letter arrived by post, explaining what I was to do.”
Major Haliday ran a hand across his face. His voice was clearer, now; apparently the shock of all this had sobered him. “It was a simple enough business. Nothing to it, really. The author of the notes said he’d got information to sell, and couldn’t do it himself. He enclosed a packet of documents—some military memorandums and such—and said I was to take them round to the French embassy and offer them for sale.”
“Go on,” James said.
“Well, the long and the short of it was that we fixed up an arrangement. I dropped the documents off at various places around the city. Sometimes in a park, in a shop. The Blue Fountain was used fairly often. I’d be given money in exchange for the information, and then I’d leave a share of it under that same bench in Regent’s Park. And then, after a bit, there’d be a new set of papers for me to pass on.”
“I see.” James was silent a moment. Then: “You referred to your informant as ‘he’ just now. You know it’s a man, then?”
“Well.” Major Haliday sounded a little taken aback by the question. “Well, now, I suppose not. But it must be, mustn’t it? I mean, what woman is going to carry out a scheme like that?”
James didn’t reply at once. Then: “And did you never try to learn who your informant was? You never waited to watch the bench in the park, for instance?”
“Well . . .” Major Haliday paused, and then evidently made up his mind. “Well, yes I did, in fact. After I’d left the money once I waited about. Hid behind a tree and watched the bench. Didn’t see anything, though. No one came.”
“No one?”
“Well, no one of any interest. Couple of old ladies in shawls. Couple of nurses with kids. A pair of silly, giggling girls. No one important. Queer thing, though. When I went back to look, the packet I’d left the money in had gone.”
“I see.”
James was silent, and after a time the Major said, his voice once again confident, blustering, “Now, look here. What do you intend to do about this? I’ve been honest. I’ve told you the truth. And as I say, there’s a fortune to be made in all this. If you’re willing to keep silent, I’d be willing to cut you in on a share of the profits.”
James ignored that. “Tell me, when was the last message you received?”
“The packet I took to the Blue Fountain was the last. I usually get a message by post, saying that there’s a packet in Regent’s Park to be picked up. Then I know to get it and make the usual arrangements.”
“And when do you expect the next message?”
Major Haliday shrugged. “No knowing. May not be for weeks yet. Sometimes a whole month goes by without anything.”
James regarded him a long moment in silence. Then he said, his voice curt, “Very well. You can go.”
“I can go?” Major Haliday sounded both incredulous and relieved. “You mean that is all?”
“For now. Now get back—go back to your party before you’re missed.”
“And you . . . do you intend . . . that is, do you want a share of the money?” the Major stammered.
“No. You can keep your business and”—a faintly derisive note crept into James voice—“your profits. For the present, at least. Now, get out of here.”
“Yes. Yes, of course.” Major Haliday stumbled away, footsteps quickening until he was almost running. Susanna waited until he’d gone from sight around a bend in the path, then stepped out of concealment.
James looked up at her approach, and she sensed his alertness, the sudden tension of his muscles. Though he relaxed as he recognized her.
“There you are. I might have known you would want to listen in.”
“You let him go,” Susanna said.
James rubbed a hand along the line of his jaw. He looked suddenly weary, Susanna thought. “Yes, I let him go—I had to. He’s part of this. But he’s only the messenger. If we are to stop the leaks of information, we need to catch whoever passes him the confidential papers. Arrest Haliday, and we’ve know way of getting to him—or her.”
“You still think it is Mrs. Careme?”
James lifted his shoulders. “We know it must be one of Admiral Tremain’s household. And she has access to all the Admiral’s things. And according to Major Haliday, this business only started up a few months ago, remember? That must be about the time Mrs. Careme moved into the Admiral’s house. But we still need proof.”
“That is where I come in,” Susanna said. “James, I’m staying in the same house. And Mrs. Careme often goes out for a drive in the afternoons. Tomorrow, while she’s gone, I could search her room. I might be able to find something—something incriminating.”
James was silent, his face unreadable. “What if she came back and caught you?”
“Then I would think of some excuse. James, it’s the only way. You must see that.”
James was silent a long while. Then: “Very well.” He smiled, a little grimly. “At least Mrs. Careme isn’t likely to try to kiss you.”
Susanna laughed. “You saw the Major’s advances?”
“I saw.” James’s voice was still grim. “And at some future date, when this is all over, I plan on kicking the good Major down a flight or two of stairs before I turn him over to the War Office.”
“What an appealing idea.” Susanna laced her fingers through James’s. Then she said, “James, if I do find anything tomorrow, how will I get in touch with you?”
“We’d best fix up a place to meet. What are your plans for tomorrow evening?”
“Tomorrow? I think there was some talk of going to the opera. Admiral Tremain managed to get a box for all of us.”
“The opera? At Covent Garden? I see. Well, that makes it easier. I shall be there—as Jacques de Castres, of course. I ought to be able to arrange a meeting. And now, you had best be getting back to the rest of your party.”
“Yes. Yes, I’d better go.” Susanna hesitated, then said, “James, I did get your message this afternoon. But you never said—that man with the knife—whoever he was—did he come back?”
“No. Or if he did, he did not find me. I did just as I told you—went back to the house only long enough to collect some clothes and all the money I could lay hand on, and went to earth in a seedy little boarding house near the docks in the East End. I’ve got quite a cozy little room. Just me and about a dozen assorted mice, rats, and quite a family of cockroaches. The one whose portrait I took was just a representative sample.”
Susanna couldn’t quite make herself smile, though. “But those men. Philippe, and all the rest of them. They will be looking for you, will they not? And if they tried to kill you once, they may try again.”
She felt the muscles of James’s arms harden, but he said only, “I’ll have to make sure they don’t find me, that is all. Now, kiss me goodnight and get along back before someone notices you’re gone.”
#
The warmth of James’s kiss was still on her lips, but Susanna shivered as she hurried back along the darkened path. The night air was spicy with the scent of the trees around her, and from up ahead she could hear the gasps and exclamations of delight from the crowd as the fireworks show concluded. As she watched, the night sky was illumined with a gigantic pinwheel of showering gold sparks, then a sunburst of green, followed by another explosion of red that seemed to absorb the attention of everyone but Susanna.
Reaching the end of the path, Susanna skirted round the crowd, scanning the sea of faces for ones she knew. At length she was able to slip in beside her Aunt Ruth.
Ruth looked up sharply as she took her place and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. Susanna had time for a brief nod, and then the fireworks concluded, and any words she might have spoken were drowned out in a burst of applause and a clamor of cheers.
When the clapping had died down, Admiral Tremain looked round.
“Ah, Miss Ward. You d
ecided to join us after all. I hope you enjoyed the show?”
Susanna drew in her breath and managed to reply suitably—and steadily—first to Admiral Tremain and then to Miss Fanny, who was voluble in her descriptions of what her fears for Susanna had been.
“Abroad in the Gardens, quite on your own. I was terrified something would happen to you.”
Marianne had already rejoined the group. Her cheeks were still flushed, though, and a faint, inward smile curved her lips. She was, perhaps, the only happy member of the party.
Major Haliday gave Susanna one swift glance and then after that avoided looking in her direction at all. Though to judge from his furrowed brow and a worried look, he was brooding more over the meeting with James than Susanna’s rejection of his advances.
Mrs. Careme, too, looked abstracted. Her lovely face was drawn, and there were faint lines of weariness about the corners of her mouth and shadows about the slanting green eyes. Her gaze strayed frequently to Major Haliday, and once or twice a shadow seemed to darken her face.
Watching Mrs. Careme, Susanna tried to guess at her thoughts, and could not. Did she suspect Major Haliday’s secret had been discovered? Susanna saw the other woman’s face harden, and she shivered again. Mrs. Careme, for all her charm, would be a pitiless foe to encounter. When she thought of the search she must make tomorrow of Mrs. Careme’s room, a lump of ice seemed to settle in the pit of her stomach. But James had been willing to rely on her—she would not let him down. Tomorrow, come what would, she would find proof of Mrs. Careme’s guilt.
Chapter 18
After the halcyon weather of the last few days, the next morning dawned grey and cloudy, with the threat of rain in the low, sullen clouds that seemed to hover just over the rooftops. Susanna, looking out her window, felt a pang of doubt. Suppose Mrs. Careme didn’t go out driving today?