Fugitive From the Grave

by Edward Marston

  St Albans had had its revenge on him.

  Peter Skillen arrived at the gallery with news. He’d received a letter from his brother that morning describing some of the difficulties that he and Hannah were having in Bath. Patently, their early return to London was out of the question.

  ‘We’ll have to manage without Paul’s help,’ said Peter.

  ‘It seems to me as if he could do with your help,’ said Ackford. ‘He could be marooned in Bath until the run of the play is over.’

  ‘Paul wouldn’t leave anyway until the highwaymen are caught.’

  ‘The odds are against him, Peter.’

  ‘That’s never troubled my brother.’

  ‘No,’ said Huckvale, ‘I was with him once when we got caught up in a tavern brawl. Four ruffians set upon him and he fought them all off without any real effort.’

  ‘These highwaymen – their leader, in particular – are not drunken oafs in a tavern. They ply a hazardous trade. It’s hardened them. They’ve obviously learnt not to make mistakes.’

  ‘But they have made a mistake.’

  ‘Have they, Jem?’

  ‘Yes, they upset Paul. That’s a very bad mistake.’

  They laughed knowingly. The three of them were in the room where Ackford was due to spend an hour teaching someone the finer points of swordplay. Until they had evidence to take them on to the next stage of the investigation, Huckvale was going to give lessons in archery. All three of them were frustrated at their inability to find out the full truth about George Parry’s disappearance. Ackford had come to accept that he was dead, Huckvale was in two minds as to what actually happened, and Peter believed that Clemency’s father might still be alive.

  ‘Has Mrs van Emden said anything about Neville Taylor?’ asked Ackford. ‘Did she really discard him?’

  ‘She hasn’t mentioned him, Gully,’ said Peter, ‘and Charlotte has the feeling that she never will. Neville Taylor belongs to a difficult period in her past.’

  ‘It can’t have been that difficult,’ contended Huckvale, ‘or Mr Taylor wouldn’t have talked about her the way he did. Once he knew that her husband was not with her, he asked me to pass on his warmest regards. Had you not counselled against it, I’d have done just that.’

  ‘It’s not Neville Taylor we should be thinking about,’ said Peter. ‘It’s his father, Geoffrey. Of all the people we’ve met, he’s the one who worked most closely with Mr Parry. I’ve been thinking about what he told us about his old friend.’

  ‘He said that Mr Parry was a genius,’ recalled Huckvale. ‘And having seen that pumping machine he built, I’d agree with him. It was chugging away with steam coming out of it, sending gallons of water back into the Thames.’

  ‘Geoffrey Taylor boasted about a dredging machine that Parry devised and about his scheme for a tunnel under the Thames.’

  ‘If he was such a clever engineer,’ wondered Ackford, ‘why did he give it all up? People who love their work – I’m one of them – wouldn’t dream of turning their backs on it.’

  ‘It’s a good question,’ said Peter. ‘Why does a man of exceptional talent desert his profession? We know he was rocked by the loss of his daughter, but that would surely make him want to lose himself in his work rather than abandon it. Jem will remember what Geoffrey Taylor said to us as we left,’ he went on. ‘Without divulging any details, he told us that Parry was on the verge of his greatest achievement yet. Then he stopped working on it. Why suddenly lose faith in the world of engineering?’

  Clemency had breakfast alone with Charlotte. When they adjourned to the drawing room, they were in a relaxed mood. Having finally got her tongue around the few Dutch words she’d managed to learn, Charlotte actually pronounced them correctly. Clemency clapped her hands in appreciation.

  ‘Well done, Charlotte! I’m impressed.’

  ‘The sounds are so alien to me.’

  ‘Before you know it, you’ll be speaking Dutch like a native.’

  ‘What use is that? I’m never likely to visit the Netherlands, am I?’

  ‘Yes, you are – we’ll invite you to stay with us.’

  Charlotte was delighted. ‘Thank you very much.’

  The offer was spontaneous and sincere. It signalled to Charlotte that their friendship had suddenly moved on to a more intimate level. Clemency confirmed it by returning to the incident in the garden.

  ‘I owe you an apology,’ she began.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Charlotte. ‘The fault was entirely mine.’

  ‘You deserve an explanation so that you can understand why I behaved so badly.’

  ‘I was wrong to probe into your private life, Clemency.’

  ‘And I was wrong to conceal facts that I daresay your husband has revealed to you.’ Charlotte nodded. ‘When Mr Darwood mentioned the name of Geoffrey Taylor, I did my best to remain calm on the surface, but my mind was in turmoil. Mr Darwood – God bless him – had acted in my best interests, yet ended up by wounding me. He brought back memories I’d sought to suppress for far too long.’

  ‘If they’re unpleasant memories, they are perhaps best suppressed.’

  ‘The truth must out.’ She paused for a moment. ‘When you heard how close my father was to Geoffrey Taylor, you must have wondered why I didn’t seek him out the moment I arrived in London.’

  ‘That thought did cross my mind.’

  ‘Having met Mr Taylor, Mr Darwood now understands why I avoided him. Apart from anything else, Geoffrey Taylor would have refused to even see me. I didn’t wish to court humiliation, however deserved it might be. I’m sure that Peter told you what he must have learnt.’

  ‘You and Mr Taylor’s son were … friends at one time.’

  ‘We were more than that,’ admitted Clemency, ‘and there was a moment when I felt that a proposal was in the offing. As it happened, it never actually came and I was grateful. I liked Neville very much, but didn’t have the urge to spend the rest of my life with him.’ She took a deep breath. ‘This is the moment when you may begin to view me in a less flattering light, Charlotte.’

  ‘Why ever should I do that?’

  ‘There was another man in my life at the time.’

  ‘Yes, you’ve told me – your future husband.’

  ‘No, this was before I’d even met Jan. I had another suitor, you see, a young man who doted on me. Neither my father nor Neville had any idea of his existence, let alone the strength of my feelings for him. There,’ said Clemency, as if expecting disapproval, ‘you know the worst of it. I was encouraging the interest of two suitors.’

  ‘Well, don’t ask me to be shocked,’ said Charlotte, laughing. ‘You know full well that I did exactly the same. For differing reasons, Peter and Paul were both attracted to me.’

  ‘Yes, but you actually married one of them.’

  ‘It sounds to me as if you were about to do the same.’

  ‘But I wasn’t, you see. In my heart, I didn’t feel able to commit myself to either of them. I was being silly and flirtatious. I was simply pretending to be in love for the fun of it.’

  ‘Was this other suitor aware of Neville Taylor’s interest in you?’

  ‘Oh, no, I kept the two of them well apart from each other.’

  ‘How did they react when you told them you’d met someone else?’

  ‘They were both hurt, naturally,’ said Clemency, ‘but they reacted in different ways. Neville was a perfect gentleman and wished me well, but his rival was much more resentful. He accused me of deceit and cruelty in appearing to welcome his advances, and he called me names that brought a blush to my cheek. When he later discovered that I was to marry a Dutchman, he sent me the most hateful letters. And yet,’ she continued, sighing, ‘I couldn’t blame him. I’d raised his hopes, then dashed them. Any man would have been infuriated by that.’

  ‘Neville Taylor wasn’t.’

  ‘Geoffrey Taylor was furious on his son’s behalf. It made things very awkward for my father and it was entirely my fault.�
� She lowered her head. ‘You must be disgusted with me.’

  ‘I’m not, Clemency.’

  ‘Anybody else would be.’

  ‘You were young and inexperienced, that’s all.’

  ‘Don’t make excuses. I was wilful.’

  ‘Your mother had died. There was nobody to guide you.’

  ‘I was ignorant and uncaring. I hurt the feelings of others.’

  ‘How much of this did you tell your future husband?’

  ‘I told him everything,’ said Clemency. ‘He deserved to know the worst about me. Jan was displeased, as you can imagine, but not appalled. Like you, he made allowances for my youth. I’m sure it’s one of the reasons I was drawn to an older man. He made me feel grown-up at last. I learnt how to take responsibility for my actions. That’s what brought me back to England. I was responsible for my father’s misery. I had to face up to that.’

  Having reached the end of her confession, she looked relieved to have told the full truth at last. While she could never completely excuse the way that Clemency had treated her suitors, nevertheless Charlotte had some sympathy for her. The other woman had behaved selfishly, but she’d now matured into a person with a more serious view of her obligations and a consideration for the feelings of others.

  ‘You may tell Peter the truth,’ said Clemency, willing to face more censure. ‘I’ve nothing to hide now.’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘My husband will be delighted to hear it.’

  They were rehearsing scenes from the play in which Rosalind didn’t appear, so Hannah was able to have a free morning. She spent it with Paul, finding it both restful and reassuring. He accompanied her to the rehearsal room that afternoon and stayed there, taking a seat near a window so that he could look out of it rather than at the actors. If the highwayman was lurking outside, Paul wanted to see him. Lost in her role, Hannah was able to forget her fears and worries. It was not the first time in her life that Shakespeare had provided a convenient escape hatch from reality, and she was duly grateful. When she was not rehearsing, she was very pleased that Elinor Ingram was keeping her promise, treating her with the utmost respect and staying out of her way. Except for the scenes in which she appeared as Celia, the actress was virtually invisible.

  During a break for refreshment, Hannah had the opportunity to thank the manager for his hospitality the previous evening, praising his cook and saying what a pleasure it had been to meet his wife.

  ‘Amanda was thrilled to meet you, Miss Granville,’ he said. ‘She’ll treasure the way you recited that sonnet of Shakespeare’s to us for the rest of her life. Your memory is phenomenal.’

  ‘It’s just well-trained, that’s all. Tell me,’ she went on, ‘how many people knew that you’d invited us to dinner yesterday?’

  ‘Someone probably overheard me talking to you. That means that the whole cast knew about it in due course.’ He smiled philosophically. ‘Our secret was out. Actors are actors. They adore gossip.’ He looked at her shrewdly. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I’d hate to think that we aroused envy.’

  ‘Your talent does that for you, Miss Granville.’

  ‘Only a happy company can produce an outstanding performance.’

  ‘I’m very aware of that.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Do you detect any hint of unhappiness here?’

  ‘None at all,’ she replied, looking at Elinor Ingram. ‘We all get on extremely well together.’

  ‘That’s a great relief.’

  When he excused himself to go off, Hannah drifted across to Paul. She was pleased to hear that there’d been no sighting of her stalker. One of the reasons the incident on the previous evening had disturbed her so much was that it had taken place in relative darkness. In the full light of day, she could cope with it more easily.

  ‘I’ve been wondering,’ said Paul. ‘The lady to whom I returned that stolen brooch told me that she’d had her jewellery box taken as well. Could it be that it used to contain that opal pendant you were given last night?’

  ‘It’s more than possible,’ replied Hannah. ‘When she admired my pendant, she told me how fond she was of opals.’

  ‘Then I’ll pay her a second visit.’

  ‘Please do that, Paul.’

  ‘She was overjoyed when I returned that diamond brooch.’

  ‘I’ll be overjoyed if I ever get my opal pendant back.’

  ‘You will, my love,’ he promised. ‘And that’s no idle boast. I wouldn’t dream of leaving this city until I retrieve it and put those highwaymen where they belong.’

  After the pleasure of making a couple of important arrests, the Runners adjourned to the Peacock Inn for a celebratory tankard of ale. As he quaffed his first pint, Yeomans voiced his regret.

  ‘It’s a pity we only caught thieves,’ he said. ‘We do that every day of the week and get no thanks for it from Mr Kirkwood.’

  ‘He’s saving up his praise for the day when we catch some bodysnatchers. That’s what he really wants.’

  ‘Then that’s what he’ll get, Alfred.’

  ‘Chevy Ruddock and Bill Filbert ought to get some of the credit.’

  ‘They’re just obeying my orders.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hale, ‘but they’ll also have spent night after night in a shed that stinks to high heaven. That takes courage. It’s worse than a privy in there, Micah.’

  ‘They were chosen because they’re both reliable.’

  ‘We should have found them somewhere safer to hide.’

  ‘The shed was the best place.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have spent five minutes in there.’

  ‘Nor would I,’ confided Yeomans. ‘Our rank means that we don’t have to take on such unsavoury tasks any more. We have lesser mortals to do them for us.’

  ‘Chevy is not a lesser mortal. He’s an intelligent young man.’

  ‘Then he’ll have the sense to learn from his experience in that shed. That’s what clever people do.’

  ‘I think he deserves promotion.’

  ‘Ruddock has to take his turn in the queue.’

  ‘The chief magistrate has faith in him.’

  ‘Let’s just worry about his faith in us, Alfred. We need to vindicate our reputations. There are two obvious ways to do that.’

  ‘You’ve mentioned one of them – arresting some bodysnatchers.’

  ‘The other task may be more difficult.’

  ‘What is it, Micah?’

  ‘We must catch that slippery bastard Harry Scattergood.’

  Expecting to return to London after a triumphant stay in St Albans, he was instead going back earlier than intended with both body and pride wounded. As the coach bounced along the uneven road, he was in torment. But it was his injured pride that caused the most intense suffering. Harry Scattergood had not only failed to steal anything the previous night, he’d taken a beating and lost his horse. The fact that he’d stolen the animal in the first place was no consolation to him. The horse had been his property, and someone had taken it. It was an insult with a lasting sting.

  Unable to ride, he’d had to resort to coach travel. He still had the proceeds from his first night in St Albans and they would bring enough money to keep him in comfort until he was fully recovered. The real advantage of his early return should have been the reunion with Welsh Mary, but that delight was fraught with danger. In his condition, a night in her seductive arms would be like being driven over a series of jagged boulders in a coach. He’d never survive it. Scattergood thus had another reason to detest the name of St Albans. It had robbed him temporarily of his greatest source of pleasure.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Peter Skillen was still at the gallery that afternoon when his wife called in. Pleased to see her, he was surprised that she didn’t have their guest with her. Ever since she’d moved in with them, Clemency had sought Charlotte’s company, relying on her more and more for support and solace.

  ‘Where is she?’ asked Peter.

  ‘Clemency has gone to church.
Since everything else has failed, she’s turning to prayer.’

  He was saddened. ‘I’m sorry that she thinks we’ve let her down.’

  ‘She still has faith in us, Peter, and accepts that the investigation will take longer than she’d hoped. And she certainly hasn’t fallen out with us. Clemency is even talking about an invitation for both of us to visit Amsterdam.’

  ‘That would be wonderful.’

  ‘Yes, it would. I’ve never been out of this country.’

  ‘I went rather too often when the war was on,’ he said, thinking of his time in France as a British agent. ‘It’s a very tempting invitation. But we have to earn it first.’

  ‘Yes – she is, after all, employing us.’

  ‘Quite so, Charlotte.’ He looked at her. ‘I must say that it’s lovely to see you back here again. You light up the whole gallery.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  After a kiss and warm embrace, they both sat down.

  ‘What I really came to tell you,’ she said, ‘is what happened with regard to Neville Taylor.’

  ‘Did you coax the truth out of her?’

  ‘She volunteered it.’

  Peter sat back. ‘I’m all ears.’

  Charlotte gave him an attenuated account of the conversation she’d had with Clemency, talking principally about Neville Taylor. In view of the way that Huckvale had described the man, Peter could well believe that he’d behaved with gentlemanly forbearance in the face of rejection. The young engineer had forged another life for himself and – Huckvale had noticed his wedding ring – had obviously married someone else.

  ‘He’s not entirely forgotten her, however,’ said Peter. ‘When he heard that Clemency was here in London, he sent his regards and there was, according to Jem, real fondness in his voice.’

  ‘There’s still affection on Clemency’s side as well. She liked him. Yet she told me later on that part of her appeal for Neville Taylor was that her father was such a brilliant engineer. Clemency was worried that she’d spend most of her marriage listening to the two of them talking earnestly about their latest projects.’