That was a line directly from Tripp’s advice, and it had the desired effect. Lord Clearwater also had little time for religion.
‘On it but not within it. The same as the law?’
James was stumped. ‘I was brought up… Sorry, Sir, I don’t understand.’
‘My fault,’ His Lordship said. ‘What I was trying, unsuccessfully, to allude to was a very specific question. The Bible tells us to do all manner of things both good and bad. Love thy neighbour, but stone him if he has a different belief. How does one square that circle? We can’t, and so people live outside of some of the book’s teaching, but within the parts that suit them. I respect people’s right to find faith in the pages of a book but have no need of it myself, and I have no time for hypocrisy. The law, however different in concept, is the same thing. We must live with laws, but, as with the Bible, some men prefer to pick and choose which commands they obey. The questions is, are you prepared to act outside the law?’
Thomas had warned him that the man could be unconventional, and James was not concerned by his question. He knew the viscount had a favour to ask.
‘It would depend.’
‘But you’re not averse to the idea?’
Everyone had to earn a living, and most would do anything to feed their family, but in this case, James knew the right answer.
‘Whether you employ me or not, Sir,’ he said. ‘I’m happy to check out some old postal records if it puts me in Your Lordship’s favour.’
He raised his glass, a little cheeky perhaps, but the viscount raised his own.
‘However,’ His Lordship said. ‘If I were to ask such a thing of a stranger, how would I be assured of his discretion?’
‘May I speak honestly, Sir?’ James knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t put the words into a polite order.
‘Mr Wright.’ The viscount was grave. ‘If I employ you, you won’t be permitted to speak in any other manner. Go on.’
‘Thank you, Sir. Well, the only way to be certain of my discretion is to employ me. It’s simple. I’ll do this other job for you, because I want to help Thomas, and he wants to help you. Yeah, you’re taking a risk as you don’t know me, but then so am I. Let’s face it, if I get caught, no-one’s going to believe you paid me to do it. I’m the one that’s got most to risk, see? But, I trust you, you’ve got that thing in your look that tells me I can, and, being frank, I need money for my sister’s schooling. ’Course, if you hire me permanent and all, that’s even better.’ He ran out of words. ‘Sorry.’
‘Not at all, James.’
Lord Clearwater lifted his eyes to Thomas, and James did the same. Thomas was the one to make the decision, it seemed, and he studied James while he decided.
‘I think,’ he said, rising. ‘Mr Wright would be a positive addition to the staff, Sir. He has that “thing” in his look.’
‘I agree, Payne.’ The viscount winked playfully at Thomas before addressing James. ‘You will have much to learn, and if, after a reasonable period, we discover that the position is not for you, I will have to find someone else.’
‘That’s fair enough, Sir.’
‘Then that’s settled.’ The viscount clapped his hands once. ‘How long until you can start?’
James was so flushed with excitement he didn’t know how to answer. ‘I will have to tell them at the post office,’ he stammered. ‘But… tomorrow?’
‘Will that give Mrs Baker enough time to arrange the new livery, Payne?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
That quick? James had been joking. He was supposed to give notice, after eleven years it was only fair. He would have to invent a story, or just walk out. They wouldn’t pay him, but last night he had screwed another five pounds out of Tripp as an advance. It would pay for his sister’s teaching until his first wage from Lord Clearwater, and the sooner he was in the house, the sooner he would be closer to Thomas. Nothing else mattered.
‘I shall write to your employer, Mr Wright,’ the viscount said. ‘I will explain my predicament and offer to recompense him for any inconvenience. Collect the letter before you leave. I will put it in the hall, Payne. That should clear up that matter.’
‘If you can stay a while, James,’ Thomas said. ‘I will show you the servants’ quarters and tell you what to bring.’
James nodded, still in shock. He was to have his own room. Hell, his own bed.
‘But before that…’
His Lordship’s voice brought him back to his senses. From now on, he was more or less owned by this man. It was a sobering thought.
‘Before you go, James, will you permit me to explain this other matter. The interest I have in the telegraph records?’
‘Of course,’ James said, adding, ‘Sir,’ a moment later.
Thomas refreshed their glasses, and James prepared to listen.
‘It’s quite simple,’ the viscount said. ‘I am trying to track down an old friend.’ He and Thomas exchanged an uneasy glance. ‘A rather sick old friend who appears to have gone missing and who we think might be a danger.’
‘In danger, Sir?’
‘No, James. A danger. To myself and many others.’
Ten
Archer took an instant liking to the man and had no qualms about taking him on. The expression on Thomas’ face was a good enough reason to go out on a limb. He displayed a constant glow of wonder as James spoke, but became the butler when necessary. There wouldn’t be any problems there. As for the man’s fidelity, he had been correct. The only way to test it was to trust him, and Archer would rather trust a man on Thomas’ recommendation than hire a private detective to do his dirty work.
However, James must not know the truth. The circle must be kept small and tight if his reputation was to be maintained. For this reason, he chose his words carefully as he explained what he wanted from the messenger and asked how much he would charge for the service.
‘Can I make sure I’ve got this right?’ James questioned when the viscount had finished. ‘You want to track down any messages that might have been sent by this Doctor Quill?’
‘Correct.’
‘But you don’t know where they might have been sent from? If they’ve been sent at all?’
‘Sadly not.’
‘And you are aware how many messages are actually dispatched each day?’
‘Sadly, yes.’
James’ eyes widened, and Archer was able to appreciate their colour. Flecks of green floated among brown reminding him of the bark of a mossy tree. There was something earthy about the man, his round cheeks were ruddy, his eyebrows the colour of soil and his hair the colour of corn. He was not what Archer would call handsome, but he could see what Thomas found attractive. He wasn’t as bullish as Silas, but he had confidence, and although he was stocky, he wasn’t fat, suggesting he was not lazy. He wouldn’t look out of place on a university rugger pitch.
He may have been staring for too long because Thomas gave a cough.
‘May I suggest, My Lord…?’ he prompted.
‘Yes, Payne?’
‘Can you think of any likely locations from where Doctor Quill might have sent a telegram? I believe he was at his home on the Sunday. Perhaps the office at Five Dials might be a starting point?’
‘Good idea,’ Archer agreed. Quill could have been anywhere during the days before travelling north, but close to home seemed a sensible place to begin a search.
‘Can you access the offices at Five Dials, James?’ Thomas asked.
‘I can, Mr Payne,’ he replied. ‘In fact, I reckon I can do better than that.’
‘How so?’
‘Well, Your Lordship…’ James sat straight. ‘I have a friend who works there. He’s an older man who used to sail with my father. We called him Uncle John when we were little,
so a family friend. I’m sure I could ask him to let me see the records, and I might be able to ask him to check other offices too. He is one of the men who gathers and stores the receipts, you see. As I’m sure you know, most customers bring what they want sending already written out. If not, the office writes it down before passing it to the wireless operator who then taps it through. The original is kept with the payment slip and stored for six months. John does all of that.’
‘But I don’t want to cause alarm,’ Archer said, concerned about bringing in yet another man. ‘My friend’s disappearance is probably quite innocent.’
‘John won’t ask questions,’ James said. ‘I can say I’m on official business. Wearing my uniform, he won’t be surprised.’
Thomas, having considered this idea, nodded.
‘Then let’s start there,’ Archer decided. ‘The most likely day is Sunday, but there are three other days, and as he wasn’t at home, he could have been anywhere.’
‘I see,’ James nodded. ‘And the problem there is, the originals are kept at each local office until a Thursday. That’s the day the week’s worth is collected and taken to central storage at Mount Pleasant.’
‘Oh,’ Thomas exclaimed. He stepped closer. ‘Then that’s perfect. All communications for the period we are interested in will be at the central office by now.’
‘Are they stored in any particular order?’ Archer asked.
James grinned, and Archer noticed that his two of his top teeth slightly overlapped in the centre.
‘Now there’s a job no-one wants,’ James laughed. ‘Did it once, didn’t like it. There’s a huge room where they’re all sorted by name of sender so that when someone complains that their urgent invitation never arrived, someone at Mount Pleasant can look for it and confirm it was sent. The office at the other end, also noted, gets the blame.’
‘Therefore…’ It was Archer’s turn to clarify. ‘You can go to this storage place tomorrow and legitimately browse any correspondence from Doctor Quill made on those dates?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘It’s not very private, is it?’
‘We all have too much to do to go snooping.’ James glanced at the mantle clock and smiled. ‘But I can go any time,’ he said. ‘John will let me stay. The office runs all night.’
‘You shall be well rewarded for your time, James,’ Archer said. ‘And more so if you alarm no-one and don’t state who has sent you.’
‘It’ll all be legitimate and anonymous, Sir. I’ll have left the post office by the time my boss finds out. Can’t see a problem.’
‘That’s good news,’ Archer said. ‘And it only leaves two things. One, to say thank you, James, and the sooner you can do it and start working with Mr Payne here the better. And two, you’ve not said how much you want for this unusual service.’
The man’s face fell. Archer expected it to light up as he announced some ridiculous sum, which he would have paid, but instead, James looked at Thomas who nodded encouragingly. James wasn’t after encouragement, though, and Thomas’ reaction made no difference. It was as if he was struggling with the decision to agree, rather than how much to charge. He swallowed as he returned his gaze to Archer.
‘I’ll happily do it for nothing, Sir,’ he said. ‘As a way to show I can be trusted.’
Archer appreciated his attitude. ‘I will find some way to repay you,’ he said. ‘And that, gentlemen, completes our business. Unless you have any other questions, Mr Wright?’
Thomas gently kicked the back of James’ chair, telling him it was time to leave.
‘I’m sure I have many, Sir,’ he said, rising. ‘But if Thomas is showing me around, I can ask him.’
‘Then that’s that.’ Archer stood and offered his hand. ‘Welcome to Clearwater, James,’ he said as they shook. ‘Payne will show you the house and your quarters. Have Mrs Baker measure him would you, Payne?’
The boyish excitement on Thomas’ face was entertaining as he showed James to the door.
‘Oh, Payne? Where has Mr Hawkins gone today?’
‘Mr Andrej is instructing him on how to ride without falling, I believe, Sir,’ Thomas replied. ‘He mentioned St Mathew’s Park and said he would be home for lunch.’
‘If Andrej is back in time, have him drive James wherever he needs to go. If not, get him a cab. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Mr Wright,’ Archer said. ‘And remember discretion.’
James touched his forelock, but Thomas knocked his hand away. ‘You’re not a tradesman,’ he tutted and hurried the man from the room.
James didn’t know what he was. He had entered the house as Tripp’s spy and was to leave it as the viscount’s footman. He had met Thomas on the front step not one week ago, fallen for his chiselled looks and green eyes, and now here he was about to visit what would be their shared apartment. His life had been rocketed in a completely unexpected direction as opportunity fell into his lap from two sides, and he didn’t know which way to turn. What Tripp wanted of him was easy to deliver, and he was in the perfect place to do it, but it meant turning against the men helping him. He would have to betray not only Thomas but also the viscount, a man the likes of whom he had never encountered.
Messenger, spy, footman, friend or lover, he could not be all things, and he had much thinking to do.
Clarity returned as they passed through the drawing room and Thomas led him towards the back of the house. Whichever way he decided to go, whichever side he took, both depended on his working at Clearwater, but as they entered another room, he wondered if he had made a mistake.
‘What’s this?’ he asked standing in awe.
‘The library,’ Thomas explained. ‘His Lordship uses it only occasionally for entertaining and sometimes to play the piano or billiards.’
The piano stood at the far end, the billiard table in the centre, every wall was lined with old, thick books, and two windows looked out over a small garden and the park beyond. It reminded James of illustrations of a gentlemen’s club.
‘His Lordship likes reading,’ he observed, stunned.
‘Actually, this is his father’s collection,’ Thomas explained. ‘His Lordship’s are now in his study which, by the way, is a room you do not enter alone.’
‘Oh?’
‘One of his rules. Lucy is allowed to clean the grate and make the fire, and I may enter to leave post on his desk, but otherwise, no-one goes in the study unless the viscount is there or instructs you to enter in his absence.’
‘Understood,’ James said. ‘I assume that’s because he has private papers or something?’
‘Ours is not to reason why.’ Thomas ushered him into the hall and closed the door before leading him to the stairs. ‘Through there is the dining room, you will spend a lot of time in there, and behind it, the breakfast room. Follow me.’
They ascended the stairs. Wide and carpeted they turned beneath dark portraits and landscapes lit by individual sconces. The largest painting showed a man not dissimilar in looks to the viscount but wearing a medal-adorned military uniform. His hair was peppered with silver, his expression stern and behind him, a rambling country house was depicted with a hunt meeting in front of it.
‘The late viscount.’ Thomas pointed as they turned to the second flight. ‘He passed away only a few months back. A fall from a horse at Larkspur, ironically enough during one of the hunts he was so fond of. He was fifty-two.’
James didn’t know what to say, which was probably a blessing. Ears open, mouth shut, he followed Thomas to the first floor.
There, Thomas pointed out the east side of the house which contained the dowager’s suite and her guest rooms, and the west side which was the viscount’s.
‘His Lordship’s private drawing room,’ he said putting his hand on a door. ‘His bedroom here, Mr Hawkins has the green suite
here…’
There were more rooms that James could comprehend, and he wondered if the job came with a map. Before he had a chance to ask, they were exiting the corridor to the back staircase.
‘These lead up and down at either end of the building,’ Thomas said, climbing. ‘And the central backstairs run behind the main staircase…’
James was used to walking the streets, running sometimes, but most of the time he was on the flat. It kept him fit, but climbing so many stairs was new to him, and by the time they reached the top floor, he was gasping for breath.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ Thomas said. ‘The trick is, when summoned, not to arrive panting or sweating. Take a moment before entering the house from below stairs, compose yourself and take a breath. Do the same before entering a room. Here…’
They entered the servants’ quarters on the men’s side and a long passage that mirrored the one below, but with a lower ceiling. It was nowhere near as grand, but there were paintings on the walls and carpet on the floorboards.
‘We have several spare rooms for visiting staff,’ Thomas said. ‘Also for if the other footmen are down from Larkspur. The women live on the far side of that door which is only opened by Mrs Baker. There’s no need for the maids and us to mix up here, we’re quite private. And this is where you will stay.’
They entered a bedroom with a sloping ceiling and a large garret window. Beneath it stood a single bed and a nightstand. A mirrored wardrobe stood against one wall and a chest of drawers on the other beside a small fireplace with a modern gas heater. A desk and armchair were the only other furniture, and the walls were bare apart from the lamps.
‘This was my room.’ Thomas said. ‘It’s warm, you can open the window in summer, and the only downside is the rattling roof tiles when it’s windy. The bathroom is next door, and it is shared by all the male servants.’
‘It’s inside?’
Twisted Tracks (The Clearwater Mysteries Book 2) Page 10