Fugitive From the Grave

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Fugitive From the Grave Page 21

by Edward Marston


  ‘That would’ve been very boring for her.’

  ‘She wanted to be at the centre of her husband’s life and not just at the periphery.’

  ‘You’re certainly the centre of my life,’ he said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. ‘I dread to think what would have happened to me if you’d chosen Paul instead.’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘It would have been an act of sheer madness,’ she said, ‘and Paul would be the first to admit it now. But let’s go back to Clemency. She confessed that she had another suitor at the same time, an ardent young man who was outraged when she dared to reject his advances. Unlike Neville Taylor, he became abusive. Could he be nursing a grudge against her? Should he be a suspect?’

  ‘I very much doubt it,’ said Peter. ‘After all these years, he’ll probably have forgotten her. If he’s that amorous, it wouldn’t have taken him long to transfer his affections to another beautiful young woman.’

  ‘Let’s put this second suitor aside for the moment. Now, is there anything I can say to offer comfort to Clemency?’

  ‘You can assure her that I’m dedicated to the task in hand.’

  ‘She knows that, Peter. You’ve been toiling selflessly on her behalf and so – in my own way – have I.’

  ‘Yet we’ve nothing to show her in the way of progress.’

  ‘That’s not true. You found the supposed grave of her father.’

  ‘But we still haven’t discovered what happened to Mr Parry.’

  ‘How do you propose to do that?’

  ‘I was discussing that with Gully and Jem earlier on,’ he said. ‘The conclusion I reached was not one that you should mention to Clemency.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m going to pay a second visit to Geoffrey Taylor. If she knew that, it might upset her again, but I’m certain that he’s the man who may help me to solve the conundrum.’

  ‘What about Mr Darwood? He’s dying to help.’

  ‘Mungo Darwood was a good friend, but he knew little about George Parry’s work life except that it absorbed him. Taylor, by contrast, knew Clemency’s father well and employed him regularly. I’m hoping that I can persuade him to forget the way that she treated his son,’ said Peter, ‘and come to her aid. Neville Taylor seems to have forgiven her. Let’s see how much forgiveness there is in his father.’

  Reassured that Hannah felt safe with her fellow actors in the rehearsal room, Paul went off to pay a second visit to Mrs Vellacott, the woman to whom he’d returned the stolen diamond brooch. She was staying with friends on the edge of the city. When he showed her the opal pendant, she let out a cry of joy. Minerva Vellacott was a middle-aged woman with a sense of wealth about her. She took the opal from him.

  ‘I never thought I’d see it again, Mr Skillen.’

  ‘May I take it that it is your property?’ he said, smiling.

  ‘I’m very attached to it,’ she replied. ‘It doesn’t compare with the similar one that Miss Granville wore, but it has immense sentimental value. How ever did it come into your hands?’

  ‘It was given to Miss Granville by the man who stole it.’

  ‘How extraordinary!’ she exclaimed. ‘First, you bring the diamond brooch and next, the opal pendant. Dare I hope for other miracles?’

  ‘I anticipate the return of the jewellery box itself.’

  ‘But that would entail the arrest of the highwaymen.’

  ‘It’s a task I’ve set myself, Mrs Vellacott,’ he said, solemnly. ‘You and Miss Granville were only two of the passengers on that coach. All of the others were also robbed of something. I look forward to being able to restore the stolen items to each one of them.’

  ‘Are you a magician, then?’

  ‘I’m a person who believes in the concept of justice.’

  She studied the pendant with a beatific smile on her face, then became conscious that she was ignoring him. After profuse apologies, she walked towards the door.

  ‘Do excuse me, Mr Skillen,’ she said. ‘It was very rude to ignore you like that. I’ll just summon my host. Since all my money was taken by those villains, he’s promised to lend me whatever I need. I insist on rewarding you this time.’

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it,’ said Paul, gently closing the door after she’d opened it. ‘The best reward you can give me is to tell me exactly what happened when the highwaymen struck.’

  ‘Miss Granville will have done that.’

  ‘A second version may contain details that she omitted.’

  ‘She behaved with commendable aplomb, I know that. My legs had turned to jelly, but Miss Granville got out of the coach and faced those blackguards without a tremor.’

  ‘I can well believe it.’

  Paul knew that, in reality, Hannah had been as frightened as Mrs Vellacott but was able to call on her acting skills to hide her trepidation. The older woman had no such iron self-control. When she’d been ordered out of the coach, she was weeping copiously.

  ‘What do you wish to know?’ she asked.

  ‘Tell me everything that you can remember.’

  ‘In truth, it’s an episode that I’d prefer to forget.’

  ‘Don’t you want these men caught and punished?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘I want them to feel the full severity of the law. They deserve to be transported, if not hanged.’

  ‘Then you may help me to achieve that result,’ said Paul. ‘Sit down again, please, and take your time. Assemble your thoughts.’

  She lowered herself into a chair. ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘I’ve heard Miss Granville’s version and I’ve spoken to Mr Cosgrove, who acted as a guard on the coach. They could only speak from their respective points of view. I’d like you to do the same.’

  It was not only the urge to pray that had drawn Clemency to the church. In the dark silence of the nave, there was also the opportunity for reflection. Nobody else came or went. Time ceased to exist. She lapsed into a private world filled with doubt, remorse and accusation. When she looked at the decisions she’d made, Clemency could understand that most people would consider her to be headstrong and ungrateful. The father who had fed, sheltered and brought her up after the death of his wife had pinned his hopes on a marriage that would unite two families in a way that would be to their mutual benefit. All the time Clemency pretended to follow her father’s wishes, she was allowing a second suitor to nurse ambitions with regard to her. A third man, differing from the others in age, character and nationality, then wandered into her life and, because she wanted it, slowly took possession of her life.

  Clemency might have what she wanted, but those around her were badly hurt in the process. All the sympathy went to George Parry. People felt that she’d betrayed him in the most unforgivable way. Back in England, she found it a rather hostile and judgemental place that opened old wounds and threatened to inflict new ones. In the people she’d hired to launch an investigation, she’d gained some true friends, but London had far more enemies who cursed her name. As she sent up her plea to heaven, she acknowledged that she was unworthy of the help she sought.

  Only when she finally left the church did she realise that she’d kept Jacob, her chaperon, standing outside. A devout Huguenot, he would not have felt comfortable in an Anglican church, so had waited patiently in the porch. After apologising for keeping him so long, Clemency set off with him, chastened by the time spent on her knees. On the walk back to the house, there was much soul-searching on her part. When they reached the front door, it was opened before they could even ring the bell. Meg Rooke, the maidservant, came out to greet them.

  ‘You have a visitor, Mrs van Emden,’ she said.

  Standing out of the way, she revealed the man behind her.

  ‘Jan!’ cried Clemency.

  Tears streaming, she ran headlong into her husband’s arms.

  Arriving at the engineering works for the second time, Peter Skillen had to wait until Geoffrey Taylor had finished talking to a potential client. When the man had
departed, Peter stepped forward to ask for a little of the engineer’s time. Taylor was not welcoming.

  ‘I’m a busy man, Mr Skillen.’

  ‘What I’m doing could have benefits for you,’ said Peter.

  ‘I doubt that. You are aiding and abetting a young woman who treated my son disgracefully and disobeyed her father. Two people I love very much were badly hurt by her rash behaviour.’

  ‘I don’t deny that, Mr Taylor.’

  ‘Then why should I help a deceitful creature like her?’

  ‘Let’s look at the consequences of her deceit,’ suggested Peter. ‘She admits that she misled your son and has felt guilty about it ever since, but it does not seem to have damaged Neville.’

  ‘You know nothing about my son.’

  ‘It’s true, sir, and it’s the reason I chose to repair my ignorance. Jem Huckvale, whom you met on my earlier visit, managed to locate Neville at a site in Southwark. When he mentioned that the former Miss Parry was in London once more, your son showed no resentment towards her. In fact, he sent her his warmest regards.’

  ‘That’s because he found happiness elsewhere,’ said Taylor. ‘He’s married to a loyal, loving woman and it has bred tolerance in him. I don’t share it, Mr Skillen. As far as I’m concerned, Clemency is wicked.’

  ‘Let’s turn to Mr Parry.’

  ‘She was responsible for his death. The character she presents to the world is just an illusion. In truth, she’s a ruthless, calculating young woman.’

  ‘I’d contest that portrayal of her and I’d also challenge your assumption that Mr Parry is dead.’

  ‘Isn’t that what brought her back here?’

  ‘Indeed, it is, but the report she received is starting to look increasingly unreliable. As it happens,’ Peter went on, ‘we did find the grave into which George Parry was purportedly laid but, unfortunately, the corpse had been stolen by bodysnatchers. After a discussion with the undertaker, however, we established that the person who’d been buried in that churchyard could not possibly have been Mrs van Emden’s father.’

  Taylor gaped. ‘Are you sure of this?’

  ‘I’m fairly certain, sir.’

  ‘What proof do you have?’

  ‘I have the evidence of Mrs van Emden’s eyes. She knew her father too well to be deceived by a childish sketch of him made by the undertaker’s daughter. My firm belief is that someone wanted his daughter to believe that George Parry was dead. Had that grave not been plundered, she would have accepted that her father had been laid to rest in it.’

  ‘Who first told her that George had died?’

  ‘An anonymous letter was sent to her in Amsterdam.’

  ‘I’m confused, Mr Skillen,’ said the other. ‘If he’s still alive, why should anyone wish to tell her such a grotesque lie?’

  ‘He wanted her to suffer.’

  ‘She could never suffer enough, in my opinion.’

  ‘Would you have informed her of his death if it was untrue?’

  ‘No,’ said Taylor, indignantly. ‘What sort of man do you take me for? I wouldn’t stoop to such cruelty. What perverted mind could do so?’

  ‘It’s obviously someone close to her family circle. Nobody else would have been aware of her address or of her estrangement from her father.’

  ‘That sounds logical.’

  ‘It has to be someone who hated her.’

  ‘Do you have any suspects?’

  ‘The only one I’ve identified so far is a man called Joseph Rafter. He was Mr Parry’s butler, but left after a disagreement about money.’

  ‘I’ve met him.’

  ‘What manner of man was he?’

  ‘He was perfectly polite and, as far as I could judge, very efficient.’ He hunched his shoulders. ‘That’s all I can tell you, really. Who looks at servants when you visit a friend’s house?’

  ‘So far,’ admitted Peter, ‘we’ve been unable to find Rafter. And there’s always the chance, of course, that he’s not involved in any way. That won’t stop me looking for him.’

  ‘You’ve shown remarkable tenacity, Mr Skillen.’

  ‘I mean to get at the truth, sir.’

  ‘If I can help you in any way,’ said Taylor, ‘please tell me how. The idea that George Parry is still alive fills me with joy. Where can he possibly be?’

  ‘I believe that he may be being held somewhere against his will.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s because he’s of great value to someone,’ replied Peter. ‘This is where I need your guidance, sir. You told us of Mr Parry’s inventions. Jem Huckvale actually saw one in action when he met your son. It was a steam-driven pump.’

  ‘George also invented a dredging machine, twenty times larger.’

  ‘And, presumably, he holds patents for both.’

  ‘It’s the only way to stop rivals from stealing your ideas.’

  ‘Is engineering so keenly competitive?’

  ‘It’s a dog-eat-dog profession, Mr Skillen. It’s full of predators in search of prey. Fortunately, there are laws to protect us against them.’

  ‘When we first met, you told us that Mr Parry was on the verge of developing an idea that would surpass anything else he’d ever done.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘What was the idea?’

  ‘I can’t divulge that to you, I’m afraid. It was something told to me in the strictest confidence.’

  ‘If George Parry is dead, there’s no virtue in preserving his secret. If, as I believe, he may still be alive,’ said Peter, ‘you may be holding information that will help me to find him. Are you really going to keep it to yourself?’

  Taylor blinked. Normally such a decisive man, he was suddenly afflicted by doubt.

  The first person to leave at the end of the rehearsal was Elinor Ingram. She gave Hannah a smile of farewell and slipped out of the room. Other members of the cast stayed in the hope of getting a kind word from the leading lady or even some advice about their respective performances. Vernon Teale made a point of thanking her once again. The morning rehearsal had been satisfactory but, when Hannah joined the company in the afternoon, the standard had immediately been raised.

  ‘Everyone followed where you led, Miss Granville,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t believe that my presence made such a difference.’

  ‘It most certainly did.’

  ‘You’ve assembled a good company, Mr Teale. That’s why there’s been visible improvement so early on. The room was full of fine actors.’

  ‘Your modesty becomes you, Miss Granville.’

  Before she could reply, she saw Paul entering the room and excused herself to go across to him. He escorted her towards the exit. Inside the building, Hannah had been brimming with confidence. The moment they left it, however, she was assailed by the fear that she was being watched. When they got back to the hotel, she was relieved that no gift or message had been left for her. Paul took her up to their room and listened to her long account of how the rehearsal had gone and how Elinor Ingram had behaved. It was only when she’d finished that she remembered where he’d been.

  ‘Did that pendant belong to Mrs Vellacott?’

  ‘Yes, it did. Having thought it was lost for ever, she was thrilled to get it back again and asked me to pass on her thanks.’

  ‘I just wanted to get rid of it,’ said Hannah. ‘If I’m given anything else belonging to Mrs Vellacott, she’ll have that back as well.’

  ‘Forget about the jewellery, my love. I need you to help me.’ He indicated the sofa. ‘Let’s sit down.’

  ‘You’re very serious all of a sudden, Paul.’

  ‘There’s a reason for that,’ he said. ‘Now, I’d like you to tell me something about the robbery.’

  ‘But I’ve done that a number of times.’

  ‘There were certain details missing.’

  ‘What sort of details?’

  ‘Mrs Vellacott admits that she was terrified at the time, but she did notice the horses ridde
n by the highwaymen. She claims that their leader was riding a bay mare.’

  ‘Was he? I hardly noticed.’

  ‘Try hard to remember, please. It’s very important.’

  Hannah frowned. ‘Mrs Vellacott may well be right,’ she said, cudgelling her brain. ‘One of the others rode a black horse, but their leader had a bay mare. When I was standing in the road, it towered over me.’

  ‘Are you absolutely certain about that, Hannah?’

  ‘Why are you being so intense?’

  ‘Because I may have made an alarming discovery,’ he said. ‘You’ve never mentioned the horses before and I never asked about them. Mrs Vellacott did remember them and you’ve just verified what she told me. The leader of those highwaymen was on a bay mare.’

  ‘He was,’ she confirmed. ‘I remember it clearly now.’

  ‘Then why did Cosgrove tell me that the man was on a black stallion with a white blaze?’

  ‘That belonged to one of the others, though it didn’t have a white blaze. Mr Cosgrove made a mistake.’

  ‘No, he didn’t,’ said Paul. ‘He deliberately lied to me. I’ve been searching for the man you described to me and I’ve been expecting him to be astride a black stallion with a white blaze. Can’t you see what this means, Hannah? Cosgrove is in league with the highwaymen.’

  ‘He can’t have been,’ she said, incredulously. ‘He tried to shoot one of them and was wounded in the hand.’

  ‘That’s what it may have looked like at the time.’

  ‘I saw the blood on his handkerchief.’

  ‘That could have been put there before he took it out of his pocket. No, wait a minute,’ he went on, stifling her interruption by putting a finger to her lips, ‘let me finish. Why did the leader take a special interest in you?’

  ‘He recognised me.’

  ‘But how did he know you’d be in that coach?’ About to reply, Hannah had second thoughts. Paul saw realisation dawning. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he continued. ‘He knew you’d be travelling in that particular coach because Cosgrove had told him. Otherwise, the highwaymen might well have robbed another vehicle altogether. The leader of that gang is more than simply an admirer, Hannah. He’s desperate to endear himself to you. That’s why you were spared when at their mercy and why he’s been sending you these unwanted gifts.’

 

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