Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

  He recalled the slight bump on her belly. If she was pregnant, that could be a wonderful excuse for them to leave London and explore the Continent. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and imagined Vic getting herself into all sorts of trouble in the various countries they’d visit.

  A rap on his door returned his attention to the present. A glance at the clock told him it was twenty after two.

  “Come in,” he replied as he put away Vic’s notes and sat up straight. The door opened and his obliging giant pushed in the skinny butler and slammed him down in one of Xavier’s guest chairs.

  The man grimaced in pain, but he was not subdued. “As I told your man, you can’t go roughing me up. When I tell my boss, you’ll be in trouble.”

  Xavier leaned back in his chair. “Meridan does have a temper, but nothing compared to the First Minister’s. Did you know I saved his life last year? Tubs had a big part in the case, as well.” He smiled and let the information sink in. “You can’t use the threat of Meridan to save yourself today. My First Minister trumps your Meridan.” He leaned forward. “The cost of salvation today is answering three questions honestly. Anything else and you disappear.”

  “They’ll look for me,” the butler countered.

  “No, they won’t. Tubs removed some silver. They’ll think you ran off with it.” He glanced at Tubs hoping his employee would forgive the fabrication, but he needed to put the fear of God in the damn butler.

  The butler’s fists clenched. “I would never steal from my master.”

  “Of course, you would, once you realized who you damn near killed yesterday. Only a fool would stay around after poisoning me.”

  The butler tried to stand, but Tubs slammed him down before he’d risen two inches. However, his outrage remained. “I did no such thing. I’ve never even seen you before.”

  Xavier believed his protest. “But you know who I am?”

  “I presume you are Mr. Thorn, the famous sleuth.”

  Finally, someone who didn’t call him Sherlock Holmes. “You are correct. I am Xavier Thorn, and I arrived at the Meriden’s house yesterday, dressed as a shabby policeman—“

  “Oh God!” the butler cried as his face blanched white with fear. “I didn’t know it was you, sir. I swear I didn’t.”

  “So why did you drown my coffee in arsenic?”

  His eyes rounded in fear and his body trembled. “I didn’t.”

  Xavier rolled his neck. “It’s late, I was recently poisoned, and thus, I am out of sorts. Clearly, you are afraid of someone. I could promise you whoever they are will be arrested and charged with attempted murder, but I won’t. Instead, I will turn you over to Tubs. He has amazing techniques for making a man talk.”

  The butler raised his chin in defiance. “Do what you like. I can’t tell you. It will cost me my life.”

  Xavier chuckled as if he said something amusing. “Tubs, of all the men you’ve questioned, how many haven’t talked?”

  Tubs cracked his massive knuckles. “Oh, they all talk. Some have a higher endurance to pain, but in the end, they all tell me what I want to know.”

  “How long will it take to break this fellow?”

  Tubs lifted the butler’s hand and drove a pick beneath his nail. The man released a blood-curdling scream.

  “Sorry for the noise,” Tubs said as he stuffed a cloth into the butler’s mouth. “This one will talk in less than ten minutes. He’s not used to pain.”

  “Well, take him to the basement and question him. I want to know who instructed him to murder the rumpled policeman, why the poor fellow was to be murdered, and why a butler would ever agree to do such a thing.” Xavier lifted his hand and let it fall to his desk. “I mean for God sakes, he’s the butler of one of the finest houses in London. He wouldn’t do such a foolish thing unless someone—I’m guessing Conrad—has something on him that would cost him his job. But it’s late, and I’m tired of guessing. So get out of him everything you can, then dump his body in the river.”

  Tubs pulled the man out of the chair like he was a ragdoll.

  The butler’s eyes were wild with panic and grunting noises came from behind the cloth.

  “Hold on, he looks like he might wish to talk.”

  Tubs pulled out the cloth and the man spat about for a minute. “Ga, that is foul!”

  “Do you or don’t you wish to answer my questions?” Xavier asked.

  “Yes, I’ll tell you everything.”

  Tubs slammed him back into the uncomfortable chair.

  “Then begin with who ordered me to be poisoned.”

  “You already know that. It was Conrad.”

  “What exactly did he tell you?”

  “He said someone had followed him and if the man came to the door then to invite him in and kill him.”

  Xavier frowned. “If I recall, you slammed the door in my face when I first arrived.”

  The butler huffed and threw up his hand. “I did. I hoped you’d go away. I wanted no part of murdering anyone.”

  “So when I didn’t go away, you set out to kill me. Was the method your idea or Conrad’s?”

  “Mine. I considered a knife in the back as you were leaving, but that would leave your body on our front steps, creating an unseemly sight. Fortunately, I remembered the gardener had bought arsenic to get rid of rats. So when Madam asked me to serve you, I took a half cup and poured it into your coffee.”

  Xavier glared. “Yes, I’m aware of that part of the story. So what does Conrad hold over you?”

  The man sneered. “So you can blackmail me, as well? No thank you.”

  “You do realize attempted murder is a serious crime?”

  “If you were going to report me, you would have already done so. You were impersonating a policeman, so you don’t dare.”

  Xavier leaned back. “I often impersonate policemen, and I have no problem with Scotland Yard knowing I’ve done so again. And the fact you attempted to murder a Scotland Yard investigator is not going to sit well with the police or the judge.”

  His quivering chin jutted out. “You can’t prove it was me.”

  “You confessed. Both Tubs and I heard you. And before you tell me no one will believe Tubs, I assure you, Inspector Stone will, and so will the First Minister. They’ve worked with him, you see.” That was stretching the truth, but if the First Minister had any honor, it would be the case.

  The butler clamped his lips as if settling in for a long night.

  Xavier sighed and flicked his hand. “Take him to the basement and do your magic, Tubs.”

  Tubs grabbed him up from the chair.

  “I used to be a thief,” the butler cried out. “But I’m not any more. Only Conrad recognized me three years ago and said if I didn’t do him favors, he’d let the minister know.”

  Xavier didn’t bother telling Tubs to stop dangling the man. Honestly, he seemed more obliging when his feet weren’t on the ground.

  “Did he say ‘minister’ or ‘employer’?”

  “I don’t remember; it was three years ago.”

  Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did he know your employer was a minister of the Parliament, or did you tell him?”

  “I would never…He knew who my employer was.”

  “How do you know if you can’t remember what he said?”

  “Because he said I had to tell him stuff that Lord Meridan said about bills raised before Parliament.”

  His answer shocked Xavier. “You’ve been spying for Conrad?” He’d never guessed the inept policeman was a spy. Yes, Conrad was certainly more than what he appeared.

  “It wasn’t like that! I just mentioned things I heard. Only once did I have to read something in my master’s desk.”

  “And this has been going on for how long?”

  “Three years now. I never told him anything important, I swear. Only things like: which side of a bill my master favored and whom he was going to talk to about it. I never did anything that could be considered spying. I
wouldn’t do that. I’m a good butler.”

  Xavier threw up his hands. “One of the best I’ve seen. I can’t imagine Catherine will dismiss you over a little thing like poisoning someone in her parlor, or selling out the minister’s position on every bill.” He rolled his eyes. “Tubs, take him to the basement and get him to tell you the details of everything he told Conrad.”

  Xavier held out pen and paper, which Tubs grabbed with his free hand.

  “Try to take legible notes. They may become evidence in court.”

  Tubs eyes rounded and a happy smile came to his face. The fellow loved to have his work recognized.

  Xavier tried to stand once they left, but his legs were still too weak to climb the stairs, so he sat down and leaned back in his chair. He’d just sleep here. Catherine would no doubt be arriving at some ungodly hour anyway.

  He hadn’t asked Tubs if he’d left the letter, but he couldn’t remember the man ever failing to follow his instructions. Fabulous fellow that Tubs.

  ***

  “Why are you sleeping down here?” A worried voice demanded.

  Forcing his eyes to open, Xavier stared at Davy. If he told him the truth, then his driver would insist upon trying to carry him up the stairs, and Davy, he hated to admit, was getting long in the tooth. Since Vic came on board, the fellow seemed to have aged twenty years.

  “I’m expecting an early morning call from either a minister of Parliament or his wife. In either case, I wish to be properly dressed and ready to receive them.”

  “Oh…How early?”

  “Not sure. How early would servants notice their butler is missing?”

  “Don’t know. Gregory would know. Should I go ask him?”

  Xavier chuckled at the thought of waking up Vic’s irascible butler and asking such an outrageous question. “Please don’t. Then he’ll come here to lecture Vic and discover the pup’s sleeping in some hovel. I dare say the fellow might box my ears.”

  Davy snorted. “He’d be right to,” he muttered.

  “The pup is well-protected. Both Ben and Jacko are watching him.”

  “She’d be safer if she were here.”

  “‘He’ Davy. Even when talking in private, you must always say ‘he’.”

  “Sorry. I’m just worried sick about him.”

  To be honest, Xavier was worried too. The pup possessed a gift for finding trouble.

  “Get some sleep, Davy. Tomorrow promises to be a long day.”

  Once his faithful, if not somewhat contrary, driver left, Xavier closed his eyes and tried to think of something other than a mob of men attacking helpless Vic. Poor thing would be stuck in a skirt that minimized her ability to kick with only a pearl hair comb for protection. No…she also had a gun in her boot. She’d be fine.

  ***

  Xavier’s door burst open and one outraged Minister and his annoyed wife stormed in.

  “You kidnapped my butler?” Meridan asked.

  Xavier stretched his neck and stared at the clock. Six a.m. — most impressive. “Yes, I was curious as to why your butler would risk such a fine position by poisoning the coffee he served me.”

  “That’s absurd! I’m calling Scotland Yard right this minute,” Meridan said.

  “You could, but they would have to rescue your butler from his current interrogation and then we’d never know for whom he gathered information about you. I think that’s a bit more important than you getting breakfast served on time.”

  Meridan looked ready to explode. Thankfully, Catherine took charge. “Xavier, are you saying our butler has been spying on us?”

  “Yes, and he attempted to murder me, but thank you for focusing on the more disconcerting issue.”

  His sense of irony earned him an arched brow from the lady, warning him to behave.

  “Where and by whom is he being questioned?” she asked.

  “My basement, by my employee.”

  She rose. “I would like to observe the interrogation.”

  “Catherine!” Meridan exclaimed, standing as well. “You will do no such thing.”

  The old woman held her ground. “I can read the man like a book. I wish to observe the interrogation to make up my own mind to his guilt or innocence.”

  “Fine, I’m going to call Scotland Yard!” Meridan replied.

  Xavier gave Catherine instructions to the basement. “Please don’t scream upon sight of Tubs. It hurts his feelings.”

  With a soft snort, she hurried from the room.

  Meridan was a bit slower, this early in the morning, but eventually Xavier’s words sunk in. “Tubs? You’re sending my wife into the company of a mass murdering giant?”

  “I didn’t send her. She demanded to go, and you let her. But for the record, Tubs only does what he’s told, so he rarely murders now that he works for me.” Xavier pasted a smile on his face.

  “And he’s questioning my butler?”

  “Yes, he’s very good at getting information out of people. Most start talking upon sight of him, or once they regain use of their vocal chords.”

  Humor was completely wasted on Meridan. Xavier didn’t know why he bothered.

  “Where is your phone?” the minister demanded.

  “Are you serious? If I had a phone, I’d never get a moment’s peace. People would be calling me day and night asking me to find their missing pets, or worse yet, their errant butlers.”

  Meridan sat down and grimaced in pain. “For God’s sakes, Xavier, surely you can afford better chairs than this!”

  “I don’t like visitors to get too comfortable. They’ll stay too long.” Xavier leaned back in his plush chair. “Your butler confessed to attempting to poison me with a half cup of arsenic in my coffee. However, he didn’t know who I was at the time. He believed I was a lowly Scotland Yard investigator.”

  “That makes no sense! Why would he kill someone from Scotland Yard?”

  “Which is why I felt compelled to ask him over for a few questions.”

  “Ask him over? You damn well kidnapped him!”

  “Actually, I sent Tubs to your house, seeing as how I’ve been poisoned and not up to the task myself.”

  “You sent—” Meridan rose, his face blood-red with fury, and sputtered, “—a mass murderer to my house?”

  “Reformed, and he has never been charged with a single crime.”

  “Until today!” roared Meridan.

  “Julius! Sit down and behave. I could hear you all the way downstairs.” Catherine snapped as she entered and sat in the other chair.

  While her expression hinted she didn’t care for his chairs either, she remained on topic. “I have observed the interrogation, and I believe, while most disturbing, the details Johnson is providing are accurate.” She turned and faced her husband. “He’s been spying on us for three years. You wonder why Thurman is always one step ahead of everything we do? Well, now we know why.”

  Meriden stared at his wife in shock for a second, then exploded in outrage. “That bastard! Are you certain it was Thurman?”

  “Johnson has not named him, but I am quite certain, as you will be when you see the details provided.”

  She turned to Xavier. “Have you done something to outrage Minister Thurman?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would he tell the policeman to order my butler to kill you. A half a cup of arsenic? No wonder you spit it out. It had to taste like soot.”

  Xavier had to give the woman her dues, she knew her poisons. “It was the worst cup of coffee I’d ever tasted. I thank God I lack good parlor manners and spit the foul liquid back into the cup. A single swallow could have killed me.”

  “I am glad, as well,” she replied and sighed. “The question is where do we go from here? I would love to bring charges against Thurman. That alone would ruin his career, but so far there is no direct connection between Johnson and Thurman. Do you have any proof?”

  “No.”

  “Could there be yet another person in between those two? Because
honestly, I cannot imagine Thurman speaking to the wretched creature I met yesterday.”

  Her declaration had Julius excited again. “You met? Why would you be talking to this man? My God, Catherine, he’s clearly deranged…ordering our butler to commit murder.”

  She patted her husband’s hand and gave him a tender smile. “He claimed to be from Scotland Yard. I thought it might be one of the officers I asked to be reprimanded for their inability to solve cases in a timely manner.”

  “I didn’t have them reprimanded; I had them fired.” He gripped her hands. “Catherine, you have to be more careful. You can’t fire men at Scotland Yard and then invite them into our home.”

  Xavier couldn’t resist jumping into this absurd conversation. “He’s right. Once an upright, hardworking man loses his job for no cause of his own, his life goes downhill rather fast. Wife runs off, children get sick and die, and soon he’s left walking the frozen streets, his belly raging with hunger. Then he comes upon the house of the rich lady, who knows nothing about solving crime, but thinks it should be done at a faster pace. He realizes she’s the cause of his downfall; she’s why his children died.” Xavier paused. “That’s actually a very good reason to kill somebody.”

  Catherine’s brow furrowed. “Have children actually died because of me?”

  “Of course not,” her husband said and glared at Xavier. “I was under the belief you were a gentleman, but clearly I was misinformed.”

  “Without doubt,” Xavier agreed and focused on the very distressed woman who had only yesterday hugged him. “I don’t know anything about the two men Julius got fired.”

  “Then why did you say that?” Julius demanded.

  “Because it could be true,” Xavier yelled. “When an honest policeman loses his position, another job is not easy to find. According to Stone, these were good policemen.”

  “You are just trying to hurt my wife. I am quite certain they found other employment and have even learned something of value from their firing.”

  Xavier couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, I’m sure they did. They learned they could do their job to the best of their ability, but if the criminal is too clever or luck is against them, then they can lose everything to no fault of their own. Discovering you are not in control of your own destiny is a terrible lesson to learn. It crushes a man’s soul.”