Fatal Masquerade

by Vivian Conroy

  Alkmene said, ‘Are you better now?’

  Mrs Hargrove nodded. ‘It must be my condition. I’ve heard from others it can cause all kinds of physical complaints.’

  Alkmene said, ‘It can. But it seemed to me it was more the argument with Denise that upset you.’

  Especially the mention of this Matthew. Who on earth was he?

  Mrs Hargrove was quick to wave a dismissive hand. ‘Denise and I have always had a somewhat volatile relationship. I suppose it’s common between a stepmother and stepdaughter. She’s of an age to make up her own mind, and I don’t always agree with her choices.’

  Alkmene raced to gather her thoughts. She could hardly tell Mrs Hargrove outright what had happened last night. The woman was still in a heap on the floor and, in her condition, too many shocks close together could be a very bad thing.

  But she didn’t intend to let Mrs Zeilovsky ruin this family either. Whatever the psychiatrist’s wife was up to, it couldn’t be anything good.

  ‘Let’s see if you can stand again and get back to your bed.’ She helped Mrs Hargrove to her feet. ‘You’d better lie down for a spell before you try to get down the stairs. In case the faintness returns… We don’t want you to take a fall.’

  ‘Is Denise downstairs? Will she talk to her father?’ Mrs Hargrove was pale as chalk again.

  ‘I think she went out. But I’ll go and see. Nothing will happen, don’t you worry.’

  Alkmene made sure the woman was on her bed before she left the room and dashed down. Jake was on the phone in the hallway. She passed him with a brief hand signal. He only nodded.

  In the breakfast room, Mr Hargrove was filling a plate with kidneys. Keegan sat at the table wolfing down his scrambled eggs. Alkmene greeted him briefly, before rushing back out and looking for Denise. Jake didn’t even seem to notice her behaviour as he was deep in his call.

  Then Alkmene heard sounds outside and spied through a window that Denise was galloping away on a dappled horse.

  She shook her head, but did feel relief that there wouldn’t be a major outburst right away. Coming back into the hallway, she caught Jake just ending his call. He put the receiver down and looked at her.

  Alkmene knew that look.

  Trouble.

  In capitals.

  She gestured at him to go outside. Upstairs, she informed Mrs Hargrove that Denise had left for a ride on horseback and then hurried down again to meet Jake.

  They walked slowly around the house. Alkmene asked, ‘Was that your friend? Don’t tell me he was robbed of the papers we found in the metal box at Cobb’s favourite smoking area.’

  ‘No, he did notice some activity at his front door, but he has two big dogs that started barking and then the culprits vanished. He couldn’t even be sure it wasn’t just drunk young men coming home from a club.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Alkmene was too excited about the contents of the box to wait any longer. ‘Did he crack the code? Could he tell what it said?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jake halted and faced her squarely. ‘Cobb was indeed a blackmailer on a substantial scale. He had collected information about dozens of people, most of them influential like Hargrove. Marital indiscretions, debts, scandalous tidbits from people’s pasts that the newspapers would gobble up. He had enough in that little box to ruin marriages, businesses, political ambitions. And I don’t think he was in this alone. He was collecting this for somebody else. Somebody he gave the information he had collected to in return for a reward.’

  ‘The bit of bearer bond paper clutched in his palm.’

  ‘Exactly. So we have two options now. Cobb was killed by one of his victims who was tired of being extorted and wanted to end it for good. Or he was killed by the person he was passing his information on to.’

  ‘Maybe Cobb got greedy and asked for a higher price? He did seem like a chap who overestimated his worth.’ Alkmene frowned hard. ‘Do you remember what Megan told us about relations within the household? That Mrs Carruthers hated her for not being open to sharing bits of gossip about people?’

  Jake nodded. ‘You think Mrs Carruthers was Cobb’s partner in the blackmail business?’

  Alkmene gestured. ‘Well, she did try to tie the noose around Megan’s neck the instant Cobb turned up dead. By making it a crime of passion she could keep the police from looking at other possibilities. But she can’t have known about Cobb’s secret hiding place or she would have removed the box with the information on the blackmail victims before anybody could find it.’

  Jake nodded again. ‘That makes sense. We must put pressure on her to tell us more. I suppose if we reveal to her we have access to the box and all that’s in it, she’ll realize her own precarious position and start to talk.’

  Alkmene gestured ahead. ‘To the kitchens then.’

  Jake grinned. ‘After you, my lady.’

  In the kitchens they were informed by the same cook who had told them about Cobb’s alcove that Mrs Carruthers was in the wine cellar.

  Jake went ahead down the narrow stone steps. The air was moist and stale, reminding Alkmene of the burial chamber in which she had been locked by the killer during her first investigation. Were they even sure Mrs Carruthers hadn’t killed Cobb because he became too much of a problem?

  Maybe, if the two of them were part of an even bigger whole, she had even been ordered to dispose of him. Who could her employers be? The people behind this major blackmail scheme.

  Could all this somehow be related to the infamous London blackmailer who turned up now and again in their investigations?

  On Jake’s advice, Alkmene hadn’t paid after receiving her own letter and hadn’t heard anything from the writer since. But in the recent Cornwall case there had been indications he was still at work, putting pressure on well-to-do people to pay large sums of money to keep scandalous information a secret.

  ‘London blackmailer’ was just a name Jake and she had given the person or gang hovering as a mere shadow on the edges of their world. But if the murder here at the manor was connected, it might be a bigger force than they had reckoned with.

  And closer to them than they’d previously thought.

  ‘Hello?’ Jake forged ahead, calling into the darkness of the cellar. They saw a flash of light, and Mrs Carruthers came towards them, carrying a lantern. It looked a lot like the one Alkmene had seen in the boathouse. But a large household like this probably had lots of these identical lanterns to use for chores.

  Mrs Carruthers gave them a cold look. ‘Couldn’t it have waited until I was finished here?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be happy later that we discussed this with nobody around who might accidentally overhear,’ Jake said cheerfully.

  He surveyed the woman. ‘Isn’t it a bit early to select the wine for dinner?’

  Mrs Carruthers flushed. ‘I have my ways.’

  Alkmene said soothingly, ‘You run a tight ship here. You must have been upset when Cobb was killed and ruined what would have otherwise been a perfect party for Mrs Hargrove’s high-placed guests.’

  Mrs Carruthers sighed. ‘He was the sort of man to die and ruin a perfect party.’

  ‘Do you have any idea who could have done it?’

  Mrs Carruthers’ expression was guarded. ‘Megan is in prison for it.’

  ‘Yes, but we all know she was far too scared of Cobb to go anywhere near him. She left the boathouse before he was killed. We talked to her in her cell, and everything she told us fits. She didn’t do it.’

  Alkmene held Mrs Carruthers’ suspicious gaze. ‘You know this household well. You must have some idea who had reason to kill Cobb.’

  ‘Him?’ The woman laughed hoarsely. ‘Enough people, I bet.’

  ‘You yourself?’

  ‘Never.’

  It sounded quite decided – not a desperate defence, but stemming from conviction.

  Alkmene tilted her head. ‘Why would you not want to kill Cobb if he was such an unpleasant person?’

  Mrs Carruthers smiled. ‘He ha
d his uses, so to say.’

  Alkmene nodded slowly. ‘Yes, I suppose the blackmail scheme must have been profitable for you, too.’ She mentioned it like it was obvious.

  Jake added in the same casual tone, ‘We found the metal box with the notes. We know everything.’

  Mrs Carruthers froze. She looked from one to the other as if uncertain she had heard correctly. ‘The box?’ she repeated.

  Alkmene said, ‘Cobb made notes of all he found out, or that you found out for him. He wrote it down.’

  Mrs Carruthers tried to laugh. ‘He wouldn’t have been so daft.’

  Jake said, ‘Oh, he wrote it down in code. Thinking that would be perfectly safe. But I have friends who can decode such a thing. We have all the information Cobb had. It’s quite a neat little bundle of explosive material.’

  Mrs Carruthers shifted her weight nervously. The tip of her tongue appeared to lick her dry lips. ‘So he was a snoop.’ Her voice shivered. ‘We all knew that. It doesn’t mean we agreed to it or had a part in it.’

  Jake clicked his tongue. ‘Now, now, Mrs Carruthers, we have a box full of information harmful to a lot of people. Information that can be collected by household personnel who have access to bed chambers, studies, jewel boxes…’

  Alkmene tried a stab in the dark. ‘Mrs Zeilovsky caught you snooping around her things one day. She told you to stop because it was dangerous.’

  ‘She didn’t say that because I was snooping,’ Mrs Carruthers exclaimed defensively. Then, as if realizing she was about to reveal too much, she fell silent.

  Her feverish eyes flitted from Jake to Alkmene and back as if she was looking for a way out. But as both of them were blocking her way out of the wine cellar, there was nowhere to go.

  ‘Of course...’ Jake said suddenly.

  Alkmene sensed the way he perked up, as if he had just struck gold. She glanced at him to detect his meaning from his expression. ‘That’s why the bottles of laudanum were in the box,’ Jake said. ‘You take it. Cobb gave it to you. In exchange for the information you collected for him. Mrs Zeilovsky noticed you were a user, perhaps by certain signs of addiction that were known to her from her experience with her husband’s patients, and she warned you about the dangers of it. After all, a few drops too many can cause harm, even death.’

  ‘Only when you use too much and I’m very careful with everything I get.’ Mrs Carruthers’ eyes shone even more. ‘Ever since my husband was killed in the war, I have nightmares. I can’t sleep. But the laudanum helped me. Blessed rest after years of misery. I need it, I can’t live without it. Cobb gave it to me. Never for free because he cared, but always in exchange for something. He made me do it to get the sleeping draught I needed. Just a few drops to make the nightmares stay away. It was in his box, you say? And you have the box now. With the bottles. Give them to me. Give them to me.’

  She took two steps forward, holding out her hands in a pleading gesture. ‘It changed my life. Blessed sleep, rest, no more bad dreams. No more nervousness during the day and fear of the night. It saved my life, my sanity. I can’t do without it. Give it to me.’

  Alkmene recognized her gestures as the ones made the night of the ball when she had seen Cobb and Mrs Carruthers from her window. Then the housekeeper had probably also asked for more laudanum, but Cobb had cruelly denied her. Had he figured that as soon as he had the money he was expecting, he’d run with his box and his reward to start a new life somewhere else?

  Mrs Carruthers’ voice rose into a storm. ‘Give it to me!’

  Jake said, ‘It’s not here any more. I took it to London with the papers.’

  Mrs Carruthers’ features crumbled. She made a wailing noise in the back of her throat.

  Alkmene inched back as the woman sank to her knees, raising up trembling hands. ‘Give it to me. I need it. I can’t live without it. Give it to me if you have any mercy.’

  Had scenes like this taken place when Cobb was alive and in charge of the secret stash? Had Cobb enjoyed his control over Mrs Carruthers, making her beg for the next bottle of laudanum?

  Had that made him so smug, so sure in his ways around the house, the maidservants? The certainty that Mrs Carruthers would never turn against him and complain of his behaviour to the master because she was completely dependent on him?

  A strong woman with a mind of her own, begging like a child for the one thing that could keep away her nightmares?

  Alkmene swallowed down the lump in the throat.

  Mrs Carruthers was sobbing into her hands now.

  Jake said softly, ‘I understand how it helps you. I understand you believe you have to keep taking it. But there are other ways to cure nightmares. Laudanum is addictive and dangerous. You may feel over time that you need more and more of it to achieve the rest you crave and some day you may accidentally take a fatal dose.’

  ‘What would it matter to you?’ Mrs Carruthers spat. ‘What is my life worth anyway after my husband died? I have no children, no family. Nobody who cares for me. In this household they either look down on me or laugh at me behind my back. I am but a housekeeper who has to run a tight ship, as you put it, for somebody else. Nothing here is mine or ever will be. I might as well be dead.’

  ‘I can’t help you with your pain and loss,’ Jake said. ‘I can only tell you laudanum isn’t your only friend. Now that Cobb is dead, you must stop using it. You must be strong.’

  ‘He gave it to me for information. Now he’s no longer alive, I’ll have to buy it some other way.’

  Mrs Carruthers gave them a hard look.

  The tears still trembled on her cheeks, but her mouth was firm now, her jaw set in rebellion. ‘Do you think Cobb was the master of this thing? No. He only collected for somebody else. For a much bigger man with power and money. I can contact him and sell my information for laudanum. It will go on.’

  Alkmene held her breath. See. A man behind it, power, a gang, a group of people spread out around London and the countryside.

  Jake held Mrs Carruthers’ gaze. ‘Do you really want to buy peace of mind at the expense of other people? The information collected has the power to ruin people’s lives.’

  ‘My life has been ruined as well. By war, by my husband dying for his country. This country where we can now all live in peace. What price do they pay?’ She pointed up at the ceiling. ‘They want to be happy, while I will never be happy again. I don’t feel sorry for them when I ruin their lives. It’s all because of bad things they did themselves. Betrayal, business dealings full of deceit. They’ll only be reaping everything they sowed.’

  The bitterness and hatred in her voice stemmed from a deep conviction.

  Alkmene sensed it would be hard to change Mrs Carruthers’ opinion here. Perhaps she could provoke the woman into revealing more information about the blackmail scheme?

  She laughed softly as if she was amused by Mrs Carruthers’ self-assured words. ‘You don’t stand a chance. Cobb was your middleman. He was your link with the higher ranks of the ring. Now he’s dead, you have no way to contact them. You cannot deliver, and they cannot pay.’

  ‘They’ll contact me. They’ll find ways. Cobb never even had to leave this place to deliver. I don’t need him...’

  Mrs Carruthers fell silent as if she realized she was revealing too much about the way the scheme was set up. Her face crinkled again as she reached out a trembling hand. ‘Just one bottle, my lady. Sir. I am an old woman in pain. Not just mentally, physically as well. My back is gone after all these years of working, slaving for others. I need something to help me sleep. Just a few hours of undisturbed sleep every night. Is that too much to ask?’

  Jake stepped back. ‘I’m sorry. We cannot help you.’

  ‘Cannot? Cannot?’ Her voice became angry again. ‘Will not, you mean. You don’t care one bit for my pain, my sorrow. You’re just like them. You only think about yourselves.’

  Jake caught Alkmene’s arm and pulled her back towards the steps. He kept his eye on Mrs Carruthers, who made
no move to follow them. Indeed, she turned away and seemed to resume her task of selecting wine.

  ‘Quick.’ Jake propelled Alkmene around to face the steps. ‘Up, hurry.’

  She wanted to ask what was the matter, but then close to her ear something exploded against the wall. Sharp bits of glass grazed her skin, and drops of liquid splattered all over her.

  Mrs Carruthers had thrown a full bottle of wine at them. ‘You deserve to suffer,’ she screamed. ‘You have no mercy on me, so I have none on you.’

  Alkmene heard another bottle shatter on the stone as she rushed up. She stood panting, half turned to Jake, who was right behind her. ‘She must be mad.’

  ‘No more than any other addict who’s denied what he thinks he needs. Come on.’ Jake pulled her away and shut the door so they could no longer hear the woman raving and the glass breaking.

  ‘She’s shattering all of Hargrove’s expensive wine collection,’ Alkmene said, brushing over her face. Looking down, she found dark red stains on her hands like blood.

  ‘Not for long,’ Jake assured her. ‘We’re telling Hargrove right now and then we’re going to find Mrs Hargrove to ask her some questions.’

  He held her gaze a moment as if he wanted to prepare her for an unpleasant revelation. ‘She was on Cobb’s list, too.’

  Alkmene’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Mrs Hargrove? On a list of potential blackmail victims? So, Mrs Zeilovsky was right. There is some dark secret. She was betraying her husband. And the child she’s carrying may not be his.’

  Her stomach knotted. This news would ruin the Hargrove family. Already bruised after the death of his first wife, Hargrove would suffer such a shock from this news.

  And Denise... She might act like she didn’t need her family, but…

  Alkmene said with difficulty, ‘This morning Denise mentioned a man named Matthew. Mrs Hargrove fainted away at the mere mention of his name. Can he be the baby’s real father?’

  ‘I don’t know. We’ll have to ask her. It will all come out now.’ Jake pulled her along.