“How long have you known this?”
“She told me everything after dinner last night. It only proves Pentwater was a rich man who loved to order people about. And it proves how little you know Lily.” He kicked his horse.
“When exactly did she arrive in England?” Eliza shouted after Freddy as he galloped back through the line of trees toward the hunt course.
“When did Lily get here?” Eliza asked aloud, only this time to herself.
She heard the hounds in the distance. Anxious to rejoin the hunt, and possibly catch up with Lily, Eliza resettled herself on the saddle. The sound of approaching hooves made her look back towards the trees. Did Freddy change his mind and decide to finish their conversation?
But Freddy wasn’t riding towards her. It was Lily Marlowe.
Before Eliza could call out a greeting, Lily whipped the flanks of her horse. The chestnut stallion snorted.
And galloped straight at Eliza.
24
With a horrified yell, Eliza kicked her horse and wheeled out of the way. It was close, though. The tail on Lily’s horse brushed against Eliza’s leg when she galloped past.
“What are you doing?” she shouted at Lily.
The other woman responded by reining her horse, who whinnied. Lily turned around.
Did the actress intend to charge her again? No doubt, given how she raised her crop high.
Eliza refused to be an easy target. Instead, she sent her white hunter into a prancing trot, in preparation for full-out flight. “Are you insane? You almost slammed right into me.”
Lily had her horse under control, but the brown stallion was nervous. He snorted and danced along the grass. “I wanted to get your attention.”
“Bloody foolish way to go about it. The horses could have been injured.” Eliza moved even further away. “If you’re looking for Freddy, he’s rejoined the hunt.”
“Freddy’s whereabouts are of no interest to me.” Lily moved her horse closer. “But I did notice you were no longer part of the hunt.”
Given the unfriendly expression on Lily’s face, Eliza doubted the actress had been worried about her. “I’m fine but Freddy took a spill. Not that you seem to care.”
“I don’t. It’s you I care about. Well, not you.” She pointed her riding crop at Eliza’s chest. “That’s what I want.”
Eliza looked down at the gold cross she wore and grew even more uneasy. “My cross? I though you considered it unattractive, little more than costume jewelry. And worthless.”
Lily narrowed her eyes at the cross. “You know very well what it’s worth. And I’m guessing you or that handsome detective who arrived yesterday took it out of Professor Higgins’s motorcar.” She smirked. “Dwight stuck it in that gauge thing. What he called an auto-meter. I was up before dawn so I could sneak into the garage and take it. Only I didn’t expect to see one of the English gumshoes napping in there.”
Eliza’s anger warred with fear. “Hit him with a wrench, didn’t you? You could have killed him.”
“What did you want me to do? It was my only chance to get to the car. No matter how much the cop snored, the noise taking apart the auto-meter would have woken him up,” she said. “And what’s your beef? He lived. I’m the one who wasted my time. Let me tell you, I got pretty steamed up when I saw the cross was gone. That meant the police got there before me.” Lily shook her head. “Now I see that you took it.”
“They found it when the car was still at Scotland Yard.” Eliza backed up her horse, until they were almost through the line of trees. She had to return to the fox hunt course. Somewhere they could be seen. “Detective Ramsey brought it here. That’s when the Professor and I first saw it. Along with the inscription on the back. The one that says it once belonged to Charlemagne. We’ve done a little research on it since then.”
“I’m sure you did.” Lily whipped her horse to follow Eliza through the trees.
“Stay back!” Eliza lifted her riding crop. “Or else you and me will be racing over these fields faster than any fox. Eventually we’ll meet up with the other hunters. I’m sure some of them will be interested to hear about the cross. And what you were willing to do to get your hands on it.” She paused. “Murdering Dwight Pentwater, for one.”
The other woman flinched. “That was a hunting accident.”
“I don’t think so. You admitted you did Pentwater’s bidding. After all, you went to his bed when he crooked his finger. And Freddy said you convinced people to invest with him.”
Lily shrugged. “Suckers who deserved to lose their money.”
“You made deliveries for him, too. Letters, packages.” Eliza’s voice grew hard. “And motorcars. Specifically, the blue roadster you arranged to ship across the ocean for him. The one you were supposed to travel with, before you were delayed by the police investigation.”
“Yeah, that didn’t go as planned. Dwight wasn’t happy I missed the boat.” She laughed and patted her horse’s mane. “Literally, in fact.”
“Why didn’t he pick up the motorcar himself?”
“Dwight wasn’t in England when the ship docked. He initially sailed to France. Had some deals cooking in Strasbourg or some other fancy French town. By the time we both got to England, your father had bought the car. Then he sold it to Higgins. That put Dwight in a rotten mood. This house party was coming up and he’d promised to bring the cross with him.”
“Rotten enough to kill the Professor? First the accident, and then the house fire—”
“Calm down, it was only a little kitchen fire. Dwight needed to get Higgins out of London. By that time, he’d tracked the motorcar to Scotland Yard. Bribed some copper who told him the roadster was being repaired at their garage.”
Eliza’s jaw dropped. “What!”
“You think stuff like that is tough to find out? Rich people can buy information as easy as we could buy a pair of gloves.”
“So our coming to Banfield Manor was arranged by Pentwater?”
“He asked Countess von Weisinger to arrange it. Told her Higgins was interested in buying the cross, too. That’s why you got the invite a couple days before Dwight set the fire. He’d learned the repairs on the car were almost complete. Dwight guessed someone from Scotland Yard would deliver it to Banfield Manor. He was right, too.”
“What a bloody maniac! That fire could have killed us all.”
Lily urged her horse closer to Eliza. “Blame Higgins for the fire. He didn’t give Dwight a chance to steal the roadster. Your professor never let it out of his sight.” She reined in her restive mount. “Like the saying goes, ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’. All I did was come to the party early and keep an eye on things until Dwight arrived. We also agreed to pretend not to know each other. At least not as well as we really did.”
“You did whatever he asked.” Eliza scanned the surrounding trees and meadow. The strong winds shifted again, bringing the distant sound of the baying hounds. If the fox had changed direction, perhaps the hunters would head back here. “Whenever he asked.”
“Was I supposed to let him ruin my career – my whole life! – with rumors and dirty gossip? Yes, I did as he asked. Didn’t have much choice.”
“So you’ve said before. A likely excuse,” Eliza said with contempt.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she repeated dully. “And Dwight trusted me. That’s why he wanted me to join him. And told me about the Charlemagne cross, how there was a legend connected to it. Whoever owns the cross will be granted victory and power. Bunch of bunk, if you ask me. Dwight thought so, too, but he knew there was always a sucker who’d fall for a story like that. Sometimes, more than one sap.”
“I figured out he planned to sell it during his visit to Banfield Manor.” Eliza saw a flash of movement within the trees behind Lily. Was it a horse and rider? She couldn’t be certain due to the wind riffling through the forest’s russet leaves. “Just wondering who was interested. Count Rudolf or Sir Anthony?”
“Wh
oever paid Dwight’s asking price, which was steep.” Lily’s smile turned smug. “I’ve decided to raise it even higher.”
“Did you really have to kill Pentwater?”
“You’re loony. Freddy and I stayed together during the hunt.”
Eliza huffed in disbelief. “That’s not what you told the chief constable the morning Pentwater was shot. I recall the pair of you saying how much fun it was to play hide and seek in the fog. And you mentioned how Freddy couldn’t always see you. I’m sure that’s when you snuck away to shoot Pentwater.”
“I forgot about that sharp memory of yours.” Lily’s pout resembled how a pretty child might look when caught in a white lie. Only this lie was as black as murder.
“How fortunate it was foggy. No one saw you take the shot.”
“A lucky break,” she admitted. “I had no plans to shoot him that morning, but the opportunity was too good to resist.”
Eliza stroked the mare’s thick mane, her reins tight in her left glove. “I guess you viewed it as sweet revenge after all his mistreatment.”
“More like justice.” Her face twisted with hatred. “Dwight should have suffered a lingering death. I aimed for his gut at first, but he might have recovered. I couldn’t take that chance. He taught me to shoot at his hunting lodge in Pennsylvania. How ironic is that? A shame Dwight never saw me aim the rifle at his foul, rotten heart.”
“Are you certain you can sell the cross?” Eliza gauged the terrain. She had to make a break for it soon. “What if they won’t pay what you ask?”
“Both Sir Anthony and the count want it so bad, one of them will. I’m betting on the explorer fellow. The count might not have as much cash to throw around since his wife lost her money investing in Pentland, Inc.”
“What about Madame Evangeline?”
Lily looked amused. “What about her?”
“She spoke about the cross at the séance.”
“The ghost lady knew too much,” Lily said, “and I can’t figure out how she knew unless she paid people off, like Dwight. Although it gave me a helluva turn when she brought up the cross at that table. Scared me more than any spirit. Couldn’t risk her saying anything else I needed to keep secret. Like me shooting Dwight. She left me no choice but to kill her that night.”
Eliza couldn’t conceal her horror. “You smothered her. Did you drug her, too?”
“I didn’t want her waking up to find a pillow over her face.” Lily laughed. “I have trouble sleeping sometimes, so I travel with a bottle of chloral hydrate. A few drops of that in the tea her husband brewed every evening did the trick. I went to her room to say good night. Told her I was worried, given that fake seizure she had. It was easy as pie to slip the drops in her tisane.”
If she’d been closer to Lily, she might have struck her. “You did all this just for money?”
Lily shot her a pitying glance. “I can’t think of a better reason. You’re too naïve, Eliza. Freddy always said so.”
“Perhaps I am.” Eliza again saw movement in the nearby trees. But if it was a person, why did they remain hidden? “However, I’m not naïve enough to give you this cross.”
“I’ll just take it.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “After you’re dead, of course.”
“How? You don’t have a gun. And if you have a knife tucked in that riding habit, you’ll never get near enough to use it.”
“This is my weapon of choice.” Lily patted the chestnut stallion. “Hannibal is the fastest horse in the stables. All the grooms and stable boys agree. He and I will catch up with anyone I chase after. Even your pretty mare.”
Eliza’s horse tossed her white mane, no doubt sensing her nerves. “And when you do?”
“Run you down, or spook your horse so she throws you. The fall might break your neck. If it doesn’t, I’ll make sure Hannibal does.” Lily surveyed the meadow. “We may as well begin. I wanted to make sure the hunting party was farther away. Our conversation has been amusing, but I’m getting restless.” Her stallion whickered. “So is Hannibal. Ready?”
Lily suddenly whipped her horse’s flanks.
“Go, girl!” Eliza cried.
Her mare whirled beneath her with only a slight pressure of one knee and broke away at her urging. She suddenly recalled Madame Evangeline’s Tarot reading, about having to take action at a crucial point. This had to be what the cards meant. Even if the stallion was the faster horse, Eliza refused to make it easy for him. A stiffer wind blew, tearing her hat free of its pins. She heard Lily curse behind her.
“Come on, girl, come on,” Eliza coaxed.
The sound of pounding hooves told her that Lily was getting closer. Eliza had to push her mare to the limit. All they had to do was catch up with the hounds and hunters.
Because right now she was in more danger than the fox.
Higgins shivered in the cold air whipping through the narrow confines of the aeroplane. If only he’d donned a heavier coat. At least he’d wound a woolen scarf around his neck and wore a leather cap with goggles. Only they kept steaming up, so Higgins pushed them on top of his head. And the blasted seat was rock-hard. The jarring bumps at takeoff had been unnerving – and uncomfortable.
But words failed to encompass the experience. Only a poet could do justice to the scope of the sprawling landscape spread below them. The brilliant gold, scarlet, and flaming orange of the autumnal forest combined with the adjacent meadow’s varying hues of green and russet. From this height, Banfield Manor and the other estate buildings looked Lilliputian. Far in the distance, Higgins glimpsed the village church spire.
Philippe Corbet pointed to the left and shouted something to him, although Higgins could not make out a single word above the driving wind.
When he peered below, Higgins spied the huntsmen and hounds. Eliza had to be somewhere among the group. Since the riders still raced after the dogs, he assumed the fox had not yet been caught. Many of them glanced up at the aeroplane, but that didn’t help Higgins. There were too many, and half rode sidesaddle. Not that he could spot Eliza from this height. Everything appeared normal at the hunt. But what if she was no longer with the group?
He leaned over the side, then sat back with a thunk as the plane banked again.
Damnation. He’d expected a smoother ride even though Philippe warned him today’s strong winds could make for a bumpy flight. But Higgins was grateful the Frenchman quickly agreed to take him up in his aeroplane so they could look for Eliza.
The aeroplane now dipped sharply, forcing Higgins to grip the sides. His stomach felt a bit queasy. Well, more than a bit. He wished he had eaten a lighter breakfast.
“Professeur!” Philippe shouted. “Regardez!”
Battling nausea, Higgins looked down when Philippe banked the plane again. Two single riders, both with a trailing skirt, cantered across the field. The rider in front rode a white horse and wore black. And the woman’s hat had fallen off, revealing nut brown hair. By George, that must be Eliza. He remembered her riding a white horse the other day.
Who was the woman close behind her? The green riding habit looked similar to one he’d seen on Lily Marlowe. Why were the two of them off by themselves? Philippe flew low enough so that he noticed how Eliza looked over her shoulder, then whipped her horse forward. If Lily was chasing Eliza, there could no other reason except the cross.
“Land the aeroplane!” Higgins shouted. “Vous devez faire atterrir l’avion, Philippe!”
The Frenchman answered, but the wind tore his words from him. Philippe pointed to a flat clearing ahead in front of the women and began their descent.
The biting wind stung Higgins’s watering eyes. While Philippe circled, Higgins now spotted a third horse and rider gaining on the women. A man this time, and unable to control his mount. The black horse careened in such a wild gallop, Higgins marveled how the chap stayed in the saddle at all. Were the women fleeing from him? Or was Eliza eluding Lily? What the devil was going on?
The aeroplane dropped lower. Higgins now sa
w it was a terror-stricken Freddy who fought with the reins. He and the animal zigzagged one way and then the other. Leave it to Freddy to end up on a runaway horse. That bloody idiot.
Freddy’s horse careened alongside Lily, and far too close. Frantic, Lily waved at him with her riding crop, as if warning him away. But too late. Lily’s horse shied violently and sent the actress toppling from her saddle.
Powerless to do anything but watch, Higgins lost sight of the riders as the aeroplane descended further. The rough ground rose to meet them. With a bump and a shudder, the flying machine finally halted. Philippe tore off his helmet and goggles.
“Comment était-ce pour une course folle?” the aviator called out, laughing. “You are all right, Professeur? I hope you enjoyed the ride. A little crazy, non?”
“A bit, yes.” He struggled to free his legs and scramble onto the wing. Philippe caught him before Higgins fell to the ground. “We must reach Eliza. She may be in danger.”
Together they ran toward the horses and riders. Lily lay sprawled on the ground. Freddy knelt by her side. Eliza had already looped her mare’s reins around a sapling and was attempting to calm Freddy’s horse. Higgins caught sight of Lily’s stallion as it galloped away.
Eliza ran to meet Higgins and Philippe. “When I heard the aeroplane, I knew it was you.” She gave him a quick hug, then did the same to Higgins but was careful to avoid his broken arm. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
He gave her a disapproving look. “Lady Annabel told me that you were wearing the gold cross. Obviously, you meant to provoke the killer.”
“It worked.” Eliza pointed at Lily, unconscious on the ground.
“Mon Dieu, is Mademoiselle Marlowe dead?” Philippe asked.
He followed Higgins and Eliza when they rushed over to the fallen woman. “No,” Freddy said in a grim voice. “Just knocked out. She’s coming round.”
With a Little Bit of Blood Page 27