Herald Of Death

by Kate Kingsbury

  “All right, but stay behind me. Just in case.”

  In case of what? She decided she didn’t want the answer to that. Creeping along behind his bulky body, she felt both scared and strangely exhilarated. Clive could take care of anyone, she told herself. Even the Christmas Angel. He would protect her. She liked the idea of that.

  Clive halted, making her bump her nose on his back. “Sorry,” she muttered, then shut her mouth when he sharply lifted his hand.

  She could just make out the outline of the doors to the ballroom. Very carefully, Clive pushed one open and stepped forward.

  Gertie had a desperate urge to wrap her arms around his waist, but managed to restrain herself. She realized she’d been holding her breath too long and let it out on a puff of anxiety.

  She heard the sound of rustling from across the room and ducked behind her protector, closing her eyes, though it was too dark to see anything anyway.

  Clive stood so still she wondered if he was paralyzed with fright. Then, without warning, he uttered what sounded like a low curse and strode forward into the shadows, leaving her shivering alone by the door.

  Her first instinct was to turn and run for her life, but the thought of Clive at the mercy of a deranged killer was too terrible to bear.

  Flinging herself forward, she yelled, “You leave him alone, you murdering sod, or I’ll tear out your bleeding liver with my bare hands!”

  Clive was over by the window. She could see his outline as she belted toward him.

  He called out, “Gertie! Wait!” but she was on him, trying to drag him back toward the door.

  “Come on, come on,” she said, over and over when he refused to move.

  “Gertie.” His voice was gentle and not at all scared, like she would have expected him to be when facing a murderer.

  It dawned on her then that maybe it wasn’t the Christmas Angel threatening him after all. In fact, she realized several things at once. That the window behind Clive was partly opened and the rustling sound was coming from the garlands hanging above them. That Clive smelled like the woods after a rainstorm-clean, fresh, and earthy. That he had his arms around her. That she liked it.

  Coming to her senses and feeling foolish now, she backed away from him. “I thought…” She couldn’t finish what she’d thought.

  “I know what you thought.”

  Anyone else would have made fun of her, but he didn’t sound in the least bit amused. In fact, his voice sounded strange again, as if he was having trouble getting the words out.

  She felt all shivery herself, hot and cold all at the same time. “So it was the wind making the decorations move,” she said, striving to sound normal.

  “Yes.” He took a step toward her and she wished she could see his face. “Look, I don’t blame you for thinking it was… an intruder. I thought the same thing myself when I first came in here.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, I did. And, Gertie…”

  “Yes?”

  “That was very brave, and extremely good of you to come to my aid, considering what you thought was out there.”

  She couldn’t seem to find the words she wanted. All she could manage was a mumbled, “That’s all right.”

  “I won’t forget it, Gertie.” He took another step forward. “It meant a great deal to me.”

  Warning bells started going off in her head. She didn’t want to feel this way. This was how it had started with Dan, and look at what had happened there. He’d broken her heart. She couldn’t go through that again. She didn’t ever want to hurt like that again.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, backing away. “I would have done it for anyone.” With that, she turned and fled from the ballroom and didn’t stop running until she was safely inside her room with the door shut firmly behind her.

  CHAPTER 18

  “We will be going to Caroline’s Blanchard house,” Cecily told Samuel the next morning. “My gown should be ready by now.”

  Holding open the door of the carriage for her, Samuel’s face lit up. “I’ll be happy to take you there, m’m.”

  Cecily hauled herself up into the carriage. “Well, I also have to do a little shopping in town, so we’ll go there first.”

  “Yes, m’m. Where to, then?”

  “To Willow’s shoe shop. But before we go, I need to talk to you about something.” Cecily leaned forward and patted the seat opposite her. “Come and sit here for a moment while I explain. We won’t be overheard in here.”

  Samuel’s expression grew guarded. “We’re not going to do anything dangerous, are we, m’m?”

  “No more than usual, Samuel.” Cecily patted the seat again. “Come, we have no time to waste.”

  Samuel took his time climbing onto the seat opposite her. “You know what Mr. Baxter said about me letting you get yourself into trouble again?”

  Cecily pulled a face. “No, but I can imagine.”

  “He said he’d send me packing.” Samuel folded his arms. “That’s what he said.”

  “Piffle. You know very well we could not manage without you.”

  “He was very clear on that, m’m.”

  “Well, he doesn’t do the hiring and firing in this establishment. I do, so don’t you worry about it.” She smiled at him. “Cheer up, Samuel. This is another adventure and you know you always enjoy our adventures.”

  “I have a nasty feeling I’m not going to like this one.”

  Cecily sighed. “Let me tell you what I have in mind. Then, if you decide you don’t want to come along, I’ll understand.”

  He gave her a suspicious look. “All right.”

  Cecily leaned forward and, in spite of the rattle of carriages and clip-clop of horses’ hooves passing by, lowered her voice. “I have reason to believe that Lester Salt is the Christmas Angel.”

  Samuel’s eyes widened. “Go on! What makes you think so?”

  “Well, Madeline told me that there’s a ritual involving the locks of hair belonging to the dead. It’s supposed to send their souls to the devil.”

  “Blimey.” Samuel rubbed his arms as if he were cold. “But what makes you think it’s Lester Salt?”

  “I noticed a book by the fireside when we were there. It was called Tales of a Mystic. I think Mr. Salt is practicing black magic.”

  Samuel frowned. “But why? Why would he want to kill all those people?”

  Cecily leaned back. “Well, I have to admit, I don’t think he killed Jimmy Taylor. I do believe, however, that he killed Thomas Willow. Lester was deeply in debt and being threatened. I think he had been trying to think of a way to get his hands on the shop for some time.”

  “So he killed Thomas to get the shop?”

  “Yes, so he’d have the money to pay back Sid Tippens. I think he saw who killed Jimmy Taylor, and saw a chance to kill Thomas and put the blame on Jimmy’s killer.”

  Samuel’s frown deepened. “But if he saw who killed Jimmy, wouldn’t he have told the bobbies?”

  “Not if he thought that Jimmy’s killer could prove he didn’t kill Thomas, then the constables would be looking for who did kill him.”

  Samuel shook his head. “I don’t know how you worked all that out, m’m, but it’s clever. But what about all the other murders? Why did he do that?”

  “I’m coming to that.” Cecily tightened her scarf about her neck. “Lady Marion mentioned that Thomas Willow was also deeply in debt. Apparently the shoe shop wasn’t making any money. When Lester found out, he was desperate. Perhaps the bookmaker threatened him again.”

  “So he had to find the money from somewhere else to pay Sid back.”

  “Mrs. Mackerbee told me that the farm had done very well, and they’d had the best year they’d ever had. She also said that her husband had visited the shoe shop. No doubt he told Lester Salt what a great year he’d had.”

  “So good old Lester decides to take some of it for himself.”

  Cecily nodded. “That’s what I think. I think Lester went to the farm to r
ob the Mackerbees, Colin Mackerbee caught him, and there was a fight.”

  Samuel rubbed his chin. “He must not have got any of the money, though.”

  “Very good, Samuel.” Pleased with her stable manager, Cecily beamed at him. “Lester must have come away empty-handed and decided to rob the Bellevue mansion instead. According to Lady Marion, he was well acquainted with both the gamekeeper and Lord Bellevue.”

  “So you think Henry Farnsworth caught him trying to break into the mansion, and Lester shot him?”

  “Precisely.”

  Samuel stared at her. “But what about the Fox Hunters Club? What happened there?”

  Cecily shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe Lester broke in to rob the place and accidentally set it on fire.” She turned her gaze to the street outside. “I have to admit, Samuel, this is all guesswork and theory. That’s why I have to visit Lester Salt today. I have to somehow make sure I’m right before I set off my plan.”

  Samuel sat up. “What plan?”

  Quickly, Cecily outlined it for him.

  Samuel immediately shook his head. “No, it’s too dangerous. I can’t believe Mrs. Prestwick agreed to help you with this.”

  “Actually,” Cecily said, feeling guilty, “Mrs. Prestwick hasn’t agreed. I haven’t discussed it with her yet. But once I do, I’m certain she will want to help me stop this madman before he kills anyone else.”

  “Well, I hope she refuses to help you. If anything happened to you, m’m, I’d never forgive myself. I just can’t let you do this.”

  “You really don’t have any choice, Samuel. With or without you, with Madeline’s help I intend to trap our killer.”

  She could see the struggle going on in his head. Finally, he let out his breath on a puff of frustration. “All right. If I can’t stop you, then I’m coming with you.”

  She smiled. “I thought you would, Samuel. Now, let’s be on our way. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  “Yes, m’m.” His face creased in worry, he climbed out, closed the door, and jumped up to his seat. With a flick of the reins they were off, and Cecily sat back with a sigh of relief.

  She had expected Samuel to put up a fight, but she knew her stable manager. He’d die first before allowing her to face danger without him. She could only hope and pray it wouldn’t come to that.

  Gertie had spent a fitful night, waking up at intervals with an ache that had nothing to do with the bread and cheese she’d consumed just before retiring.

  She kept hearing her own words over and over in her head. I would have done it for anyone. How ungracious that sounded now. She’d blurted it out without thinking, anxious to get away from the temptation to take that step that would bring her closer to Clive.

  All through the breakfast rush she kept thinking about it, until Pansy declared with more than a hint of impatience, “What is the matter with you this morning? Get out of the wrong side of the bed?”

  Gertie scowled at her. “Very funny.” She hesitated, her tray of dirty dishes balanced on her hip. Maybe if she talked about it she wouldn’t feel so guilty. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d said anything nasty.

  Pansy was about to turn away when Gertie added, “If you must bloody know, I said something I shouldn’t have yesterday and I’m wondering if I should apologize.”

  Pansy looked over her shoulder at her. “That’s nothing new. Who did you say it to?”

  Gertie paused again, then said sheepishly, “Clive.”

  Pansy’s cry of dismay took her by surprise. “What? You didn’t! What did you say to him?”

  Thankful they were alone in the dining room, Gertie wished she’d never said anything. “Oh, it was nothing.”

  Pansy dug her hands into her hips. “If it was nothing, why are you worrying about apologizing?”

  “No, twerp. I mean, that’s what I said.” Gertie sighed. “I was in the ballroom with Clive and-”

  Pansy’s gasp interrupted her. “What were you doing in the ballroom with him?”

  Gertie could feel her cheeks growing warm. “Nothing we shouldn’t be doing. I heard a noise, and thought it was someone breaking in and Clive went to see and I went with him and yelled at the burglar only it wasn’t a burglar and Clive thanked me anyway and I said it was nothing.”

  Pansy’s face had expressed a number of emotions, from shock and concern to puzzlement. “Is that all?”

  Gertie had to agree that, told like that without any of the charged emotions she’d felt when it happened, it did seem a bit tame. “Yeah, that’s all. Never mind. I’m just tired. I didn’t get much flipping sleep last night.”

  “Well, you’d better get some sleep tonight. The Christmas guests will be here tomorrow.” Pansy dragged a white lace-edged cloth from a table and dropped it in the laundry basket. “I can’t wait to see who our special guests are, can you?”

  Gertie shrugged. “Unless it’s the flipping king, I don’t suppose we’ll even know who they are.”

  Pansy breathed a sigh. “Oh, wouldn’t that be something! To wait on the king!”

  “Yeah, well, I did it once and it’s not all that much fun. His valet wouldn’t let me get near him. Took everything out of my hands before I even got to the door.”

  Pansy turned away with a grunt of disappointment. “Oh, well, it’s probably not him anyway.”

  Gertie had stopped paying attention. She had just seen Clive pass by the dining room doors. “I’ve got to go,” she said abruptly, causing Pansy to spin back again. “There’s something I’ve got to do.” Leaving the tray of dishes on the table, she dashed out of the room and into the corridor.

  Clive had disappeared, and she raced for the stairs. She reached the top just in time to see the front door close behind him.

  Heedless of the cold wind, she dived through the door and down the steps, calling out, “Clive! Wait!”

  Clive had reached the corner of the building. He stopped and looked back, the wind whipping his dark hair back from his face.

  He seemed uneasy as she drew nearer, looking around as if worried somebody might see them together. “Is something wrong?”

  She almost laughed. Everything was wrong. If she said the wrong words now, she could break up a friendship that meant more to her than she’d realized. Now that she was in danger of losing him, she wanted to hang on to him with both hands and never let go. “I want to talk to you.”

  He searched her face, then nodded. “Come around here, out of the cold.”

  She followed him through the gate into the courtyard, where they were sheltered by the kitchen wall. She noticed that he stood between her and the beach, protecting her even more from the brisk ocean wind. That was Clive, always protecting her. Always making her feel safe.

  She smiled at him. “I was scared last night.”

  “I know you were.”

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

  A frown flicked across his face. “Gertie, it’s all right. You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t.” She paused, struggling for the right words. “I like you, Clive. Really I do. You’ve been a wonderful friend to me and the twins and we all think the world of you.”

  He started to speak and she held up her hand. “No, wait. If I don’t get this out now I’ll never bloody say it at all.”

  His mouth twitched in a smile, then he looked serious again. “All right.”

  “It’s like this.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I don’t have much luck with blokes. First there was Ian, and, well, you know about him. He was the father of my twins, and never bothered to tell me he was married to someone else. Then there was Ross McBride. He was a lot older than me but he was good to me and my children. When he died I thought that was the end of it for me. But then I met Dan.”

  Her voice had wobbled. Cross with herself, she paused to get it under control again.

  “Gertie, you don’t have to do this-”

  “Yes, I do. Let me finish.” She struggl
ed on. “I really, really loved Dan, even though I knew he wasn’t the right one for me. I kept hoping we-” She took another deep breath. “Anyway, what I’m saying is that after all that hurting, I don’t think I can ever do it again.”

  “Gertie-”

  Again she held up her hand. “But if things had been different, if I could have felt that way again, it would have been with you.”

  Her fingers were clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. She didn’t know if she’d said it right, or if he’d ever understand what she’d meant. She watched his face, and for a moment felt panic at his grave expression.

  Then he smiled. “Gertie, I have never met a woman like you. You have a heart as big as the sky, and I know that one day-maybe not soon, but one day-you’ll be able to trust it to someone again. I want to be around when that happens, just in case you decide to give it to me. So I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. Until then, I hope we can still remain friends.”

  She never cried. So that moisture in her eyes had to be caused by the wind. “You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and my twins would kill me if I didn’t stay friends with you.”

  He laughed, that deep rich sound that always made her feel warm inside. “Then we can’t disappoint the twins, can we. By the way, I’ve finished the rocking horse I made for their Christmas present. Come and see it and tell me what you think.”

  She grinned at him. “I’d love to, but it’ll have to be later. I’ve left dirty dishes on the table and Chubby will have my guts for flipping garters if I don’t get back there.”

  “Later, then.” He lifted his hand at her, then strode off around the corner.

  She kept the grin on her face all the way back to the dining room.

  People packed the High Street as Samuel guided the chestnut to a stop a few yards from Willow’s shoe shop. “I want you to stay here and wait for me,” Cecily told him as he helped her alight from the carriage.

  “I’m not going to let you go in there by yourself.” Samuel took her arm in a firm hold. “I’m here to protect you, and I can’t do that sitting out here on the street.”