In the Lion's Den

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘It’s an explosive. The best there is, and it’s often used to blow up old buildings, or used in quarries. I only know that it is composed of nitroglycerin or ammonium nitrate. Maybe other things. But it’s powerful. The chief of the fire brigade could give you more information, Miss Parkinson.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she answered and moved closer to James. He looked down at her, his face fraught with tension, a terrible sorrow flooding his eyes. She said quietly, ‘We’ll rebuild, James. Take heart. We’re all here to help you.’ Wanting to lift his spirits, she added, ‘Don’t forget you have a posse. And thank God the right side is seemingly untouched. Part of the arcade is there.’

  ‘Thank you for comforting me, Natalie, and for being here. Who could have done this?’ he asked hoarsely.

  ‘God knows. The chief does believe it’s arson, though.’

  ‘How could they get past Joe?’ James shook his head.

  ‘I don’t think it was done today,’ Natalie said in a low voice. ‘It might have been placed there earlier and then set off from afar. Ask the chief what he thinks.’

  James did so, and the chief nodded. ‘I came to that conclusion earlier, sir.’ He added, ‘But I can’t be certain, not about dynamite.’

  ‘How do you explode a bomb?’ William asked.

  ‘A bomb made of dynamite needs a fuse. The fuse has to be set alight with a match.’

  ‘I see. So the arsonist has to physically light the fuse?’

  ‘No other way, sir. And it’d better be a long fuse, otherwise the arsonist will get himself killed, Mr Venables.’

  ‘I understand,’ William said, and suddenly began to cough.

  There was now a great deal of smoke in the night air, accumulating as the fire was being doused and dying out in some areas. The stench of the smoke was stronger, and Natalie began to rub her eyes, as did Joe.

  William came up to James and put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Whatever you need, just ask me. I am here for you. Look, would you and Natalie like to come home with me, spend the night? You are both very welcome.’

  James swung to face his cousin. ‘That’s so kind of you, William. Right now I want to stay here. I must stay here. It’s my duty to wait until the fire is finally out. I know the firemen have managed to get it under control. However, I can’t leave until I know that the other side of the arcade is safe. At least that will be good news.’

  ‘I understand,’ William answered. ‘I wonder if Natalie wants me to take her back to the B&B.’

  ‘You could ask her, but I’m certain she will insist on staying here,’ James said.

  She did. They all stayed, grouped together around James. Finally the fire died out at four o’clock in the morning, and there was a huge sigh of relief.

  ‘Let’s meet here at noon,’ the chief said. ‘Hopefully we might have some answers for you, Mr Falconer. My men and the firemen will examine the ruins looking for clues. They’re all experienced and very diligent.’

  When they all met late the following morning at the partially ruined arcade, they were overwhelmed by the stench of smoke which still lingered.

  The left side of the arcade was totally ruined. It was a pile of rubble, fallen bricks, planks and bits of timber, and broken masonry. There were several small craters amongst the rubble, but the fire was out. And there was mud across the outside area.

  James was in better shape. Although he hadn’t slept, he was relieved to see that the right side of the arcade was totally unharmed. It would need cleaning because of the smoke, but it was intact. Part of his dream lived on still.

  Natalie and James arrived together. Joe showed up a few minutes later, as did the two watchmen. The last to arrive was William, with his father, James’s Uncle Clarence. Both of them carried hampers of hot tea, hot soup, and a selection of sandwiches to be shared later.

  They grouped together in the undamaged right side of the arcade. After Clarence Venables was introduced to everyone, it was the police chief who spoke first.

  Andy Coles addressed them, sharing the information the police already had. ‘We’re fairly certain this was a bomb blast, and we believe the arsonist entered the arcade through a grate on the outside of the arcade’s main brick wall. On the left. There is a visible grate there which can be levered off with a strong tool, and a ladder going down into the underground area. That is where there are water pipes and a sewage system.’

  After clearing his throat, the chief continued, ‘The shops share a water closet. The bomb was placed in the underground sewer, on a ledge, and a fuse was attached. The remnants are there. We found them earlier this morning. Any questions, please ask me.’

  ‘Are you saying the bomb was put there earlier, and then the fuse was set off later?’ James enquired.

  ‘That’s what the chief of the fire brigade believes. He thinks the arsonist returned, perhaps late last night, immediately before the bomb blew.’

  ‘But Joe was there,’ William said.

  ‘He was mostly inside the arcade,’ the chief pointed out. ‘The arsonist was on the outside of the main brick wall, the outer wall. If he had set everything up earlier and levered off the metal grate, that would have made it easier for him to lift the drainage grate and go down into the sewer a second time.’

  Much to everyone’s disappointment, the fire brigade and the police found no incriminating evidence whatsoever. They worked together with great diligence for several days, going over the damaged part of the arcade, seeking clues. Nothing was forthcoming.

  ‘It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack,’ the chief constable told James. ‘We’ve gone over the underground sewage area and found nothing to lead us to the arsonist. The remnants of the bomb tell us nothing.’

  ‘What you said before is that the arsonist set up, left the arcade, then returned to light the fuse late at night,’ James remarked. A brow lifted. ‘But no one saw him. Even Joe missed him.’

  The chief constable nodded. ‘Remember the drainage gate is on the land outside the main brick wall of the arcade. Nobody in the arcade could see him because the wall blocked their view. Whoever the arsonist is, he had to be lithe, fast, and a good runner. Because of how quickly the fuse would burn.’

  William stared at the chief constable, and said, ‘Yes, I went and looked at the grate.’ He grimaced. ‘He got away with it, didn’t he?’

  Andy Coles shook his head. ‘I won’t admit to that yet, Mr Venables.’ He glanced across at James and, after a slight hesitation, he said, ‘I can’t imagine the motive behind the bombing. What reason did this person have to destroy part of the arcade? Do you have an enemy in Hull? Someone who wants to do you harm, Mr Falconer?’

  ‘Not that I know of …’ James broke off and looked reflective, as if he was searching his mind for a name. Once more he said, ‘No. I don’t have any enemies here. I hardly know anyone.’

  ‘There is one other thing I want to clarify,’ Coles said. ‘A bomb made of dynamite cannot be set off from afar—’

  ‘Certain bombs can be, though,’ William interjected. ‘I did a bit of research and discovered a bomb can be put into a package and left on a doorstep, as if the postman delivered it. Then, whoever picks it up and moves it around will be blown to smithereens.’

  ‘That is correct, Mr Venables, but that kind of bomb is undoubtedly not made of dynamite. A bomb made with that particular type of explosive must have a fuse, and that fuse has to be lit by a flame … a match. As I told you before.’

  William nodded vehemently. ‘We understand that now, Chief. And by the way, we know how hard your men have worked, how long their hours have been. Don’t we, James?’

  ‘Of course we do!’ James exclaimed. ‘And I’m always hopeful that a bit of evidence will turn up. And thank you, Chief Constable. And please thank all your men for us.’

  James stood in front of the ruins of his arcade. His vision, his idea, all his work, destroyed. He had persuaded Mr Malvern to put up the money, and now they faced a huge bill for a sodden, charred
ruin.

  The police and the fire brigade had found nothing to help them track down the culprit. James had his own suspicions. But voicing them would only bring disgrace on the Venables family. With no evidence to back them up.

  His dream seemed further away than ever.

  TWENTY-SIX

  It was Wednesday 5 November, and this night, all over England, bonfires were being lit in hamlets, villages, towns and cities. On top of each bonfire was an effigy of Guy Fawkes; he was the conspirator executed for his role in the Gunpowder Plot. Still remembered, although it had taken place back in 1605, with roaring fires and outside suppers. His attempt to blow up Parliament and kill King James I was to avenge the persecution of Roman Catholics in England. It failed, and yet became an historical event thereafter.

  At Courtland, the bonfire was built, and the village would be joining the house’s inhabitants to light it and mark the date.

  ‘Can you imagine that’s almost three hundred years ago,’ Alexis said to Tilda, who was helping her dress for the evening event in the gardener’s yard beyond the stable block.

  ‘“Remember, remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot.” Those were the words I learned in school,’ Tilda told her.

  Alexis laughed. ‘So did I. I expect every child who went to school did as well.’ There was a pause, then she said, ‘I’m glad I accepted Miss Claudia’s invitation to come and stay on for the whole week. She’s been very nice since Marietta’s marriage, warm and welcoming. It was a lovely wedding. And I was flattered to be a godmother to baby Nicholas.’

  ‘I know that, Miss Alexis, and she’s made several comments to me that she is happy about the way you look. Almost your old self, she said to me.’

  ‘Except I still need to lose more weight, Tilda,’ Alexis protested. ‘I really do.’

  ‘We all put it on so easily, Miss Alexis, but it’s surely very hard to get off. You are doing so well, my lady, and your hair is looking lovely.’

  ‘I’m determined to battle it through,’ Alexis remarked, and stood up from the dressing table.

  Tilda helped her on with a moss-green fitted jacket that matched the long straight skirt. With this tailored but dressy suit she wore a burgundy silk blouse, which tied with a large bow. Alexis left the bedroom, followed by Tilda, who was carrying a full-length moss-green cape for Alexis to wear outside.

  Lady Jane and Lord Reggie were waiting for Alexis in the front entrance hall. Alexis thanked Tilda, and then went to join them.

  ‘Good thing you wrapped up well,’ Jane said, kissing Alexis on the cheek. ‘It’s a bit nippy this evening.’

  Lord Reggie put an arm around Alexis and hugged her to him. ‘Let’s hurry. The others have gone ahead to be there when the villagers arrive.’

  The three of them crossed the garden and went into the block where the horses were stabled. As they walked at a good pace, Lord Reggie remarked: ‘Having a bonfire for the villagers is an ancient custom, started by Sebastian’s ancestors. And how he enjoyed it himself, especially the fireworks. Don’t you remember?’

  Lady Jane and Alexis both nodded and smiled at the memory.

  A few minutes later they arrived at the gardener’s yard, where Claudia and Cornelius were already standing with Lavinia, Marietta and her new husband, Anthony Gordon. Their wedding had been a success and they had ignored any gossip about the early arrival of their baby.

  Alexis was always pleased to see them together. They were beautiful young people, and so very much in love it was touching. She knew that Dukey’s solution had worked and avoided a bigger scandal. She could see that it had been the right course of action, however much it had made her feel excluded. And now that she was godmother to the baby, her place in this family she loved was secure.

  A few minutes later Aunt Thea arrived, just as the villagers were trooping up the side path from the village of Courtland down the hill.

  It was Cornelius who took charge once everyone was grouped around the huge pile of wood, twigs and rolls of paper. Perched right at the top of this pile was the effigy of Guy Fawkes that the villagers had made and which Lavinia usually said looked like a scarecrow. Once again, the same words left her lips.

  Cornelius handed Reggie and Anthony boxes of matches, and then stepped over to Jake, Tom, and Larry, the under-gardeners, and gave a box to each of them. ‘Now we must set the paper at the bottom of the pile afire. Within minutes there will be a huge blaze.’

  As the entire pile flared up into the night sky, the villagers laughed and clapped, cheered and sang the old ditty. And when the legs of the effigy caught the flames, louder cheers echoed in the yard.

  Mr Frome, the head gardener, was in charge of the fireworks and was assisted by the other under-gardeners, Ellis, Alan and Fred.

  Armed with the Swan Vestas, they set alight all kinds of fireworks – from Catherine wheels to flares – which filled the black sky with fantastic patterns in a spectacular display of colour and light.

  Everyone clapped and sang. Some of the villagers did jigs, and there was much laughter and enjoyment. When the fireworks were over, Claudia and Cornelius thanked the villagers for coming and told them to go and enjoy the baked potatoes, roasted chestnuts and other food on the buffet table that Mr Frome had set up.

  The family walked back to the great stately home. Within minutes they were sitting down at the dining table, where a country-style dinner was served.

  Claudia had asked the two cooks to make legs of lamb, all kinds of winter vegetables and baked potatoes.

  To start she had suggested a hearty soup, followed by oysters. After the first courses, the haunches of meat were carved by Kingsley and the two under-butlers. The maids handed around the vegetables, while the footmen served various wines from Sebastian’s impeccable cellar.

  It was a jolly evening, with much chatter, laughter, jokes and reminiscing. It was a companionable group, and Alexis glanced around the richly coloured dining room, gas lamps casting pools of yellow light over the family. She caught her breath at how much she had missed this. It was wonderful to have been made to feel so welcome.

  The following morning, after breakfast, Alexis went into the library, where Lady Jane sat reading a newspaper.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ Alexis asked. ‘I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.’

  Jane laughed. ‘Of course you can. I’m just glancing at the newspapers. That’s all.’

  ‘Where’s Reggie?’

  ‘He went upstairs to find his spectacles. He just dodged out for a minute or two.’

  Alexis exclaimed, ‘The Artful Dodger, that’s what Sebastian called him at times … he would say Reggie just knows how to dodge out when he’s asked to answer an awkward question.’

  Jane couldn’t help grinning at these words as she picked up The Times and opened the paper. Alexis followed suit, and found another one to flick through.

  When Lord Reggie returned a few minutes later, Alexis said to him, ‘I forgot to tell you, the strangest thing – a local estate agent wrote to me, informing me that someone wanted to buy Goldenhurst. Apparently there was a rumour, locally, that it was for sale.’

  Jane put down the paper and stared at her, frowning. ‘How odd. Imagine a rumour like that starting.’

  ‘It is, but at least I know that if my father cuts me off without a shilling, I’ve an asset I can sell.’

  Immediately recognizing this was the moment he had long been looking for, Reggie discarded The Chronicle. He said in a serious voice, ‘You cannot sell Goldenhurst.’

  ‘I don’t intend to. I’m only telling you what happened regarding the estate agent,’ Alexis explained.

  Reggie took a moment, rearranging the thoughts in his head, wanting to be clear so that she truly comprehended what his words meant.

  At last he said slowly, ‘What I’m saying is that you cannot ever sell Goldenhurst, even if you wanted to do so. The house is entailed.’

  Alexis, taken aback, had a perplexed expression on her fa
ce. ‘I don’t think I understand you, Reggie. What on earth do you mean?’

  ‘“Entailed” is a legal term. An entailed estate has a predetermined order of succession.’ When she simply gaped at him, he went on, ‘“Entailed” means to limit the inheritance of a property to a specific succession of heirs.’

  Alexis sat digesting what Reggie had just said, and the puzzled expression remained on her face. She finally asked, ‘Are you saying that I can’t ever sell Goldenhurst throughout my lifetime?’

  ‘No, you can’t. Nor can you leave it to an heir. When you die, the house automatically goes to a member of the Trevalian family. Let’s say Claudia, or a child of hers. Or either of her sisters. And it is an unalterable inheritance. That’s really what “entailed” means.’

  ‘But why would Sebastian do that? I mean he left me the house in his will, even before we were married. Why did he do that?’

  ‘I’ve absolutely no idea, Alexis. Truly I haven’t. And remember, Goldenhurst was his, paid for with his money. Sebastian spoke of many things to me. We were best friends, but he never discussed his will.’

  ‘Why haven’t you told me before?’ she asked.

  ‘In the beginning, when he died so suddenly, so unexpectedly, you were out of your mind with grief. If you recall, you did not come to the reading of his will. You were ill in bed and sedated. You were hysterical with grief.’ Reggie shook his head, looking sad. ‘I perhaps should have told you after the reading, but I was a little afraid of bringing up his name, never mind explaining all this after you went abroad for treatment.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, I realize that,’ Alexis said in a low voice. ‘Can I ask you a few questions?’

  ‘Yes, and I’ll attempt to answer them if I can.’

  ‘Let’s say I do get married one day. Then I eventually die. I can’t leave Goldenhurst to my husband?’

  ‘No, you cannot.’

  ‘What if I have a child, an heir? Does that same rule apply?’

  ‘It does. That’s what entailed means. It goes to whomever Sebastian has chosen to inherit his property. A Trevalian.’