The Repentant Rake cr-3

by Edward Marston

  'Guilt?'

  'I was forced to make a choice, Mr Redmayne.'

  'Between what?'

  'Gabriel and my family.'

  'Was there no possibility of reconciling the two?'

  'None whatsoever,' she explained. 'Mother could never have accepted a man with Gabriel's past. She would have forbidden the marriage just as forcefully as Sir Julius would have done, had he known about it.'

  'Who performed the ceremony?'

  There was another pause. 'Someone we could trust.'

  'In other words, a Catholic priest.'

  'I would never marry under any other conditions,' she affirmed. 'Gabriel knew that and he accepted it. Eventually, that is.'

  'Those long arguments must have been quite acrimonious at times.'

  'They were punishing for both of us.'

  'But you achieved harmony in the end.'

  'Yes,' said Lucy, her features lighting up for an instant. 'When we were together we were so happy. Gabriel told me that I had saved his life.' Her face clouded. 'Yet, in another sense, I was responsible for his death.'

  'That is absurd,' he told her.

  'If he had not met me, he would still be alive.'

  'Not necessarily.'

  'He only turned his back on his friends because of me,' she argued. 'In that world, he was safe, popular and successful. Gabriel had a name.'

  'But not one of which he could be altogether proud' said Christopher. 'His was an ugly world, Mrs Cheever, full of cruelty, deception and licentiousness. I know, believe me. I've had to wade through that swamp myself. What you did' he went on, 'was to take him away from it all. You not only gave him a new life, you saved his soul.'

  Tears welled up in her eyes. 'That's what I try to tell myself, Mr Redmayne.'

  'It's the truth.'

  'Thank you.'

  'Where was he on the night of his murder?'

  'I am not sure,' she said, biting her lip. 'I know where he was supposed to be.'

  'And where was that?'

  Lucy hesitated. 'I cannot give you a name.'

  'I accept that.'

  'If it were known that he was living there, it could be fatal for him.'

  'Nobody will be told a thing, Mrs Cheever. On my word of honour.'

  'What about Mr Bale?' she asked suspiciously. 'He is bound to ask why you are going there. Mr Bale is a good man but he is no friend to the Old Religion. His duty is to suppress it. What will you tell him?'

  Christopher was explicit. 'No more than he needs to know.'

  Lucy closed her eyes and agonised for minutes before making a decision. 'Gabriel was going to take instruction that night,' she said at length. 'It was somewhere in Warwick Lane.'

  'Warwick Lane?'

  'Near the junction of Newgate Street. Do not ask me to tell you which house,' she said forlornly, 'because I have sworn never to divulge its exact whereabouts. But that is where Gabriel would have been, Mr Redmayne. My husband may well have been murdered somewhere in that vicinity.'

  'Thank you,' he said with feeling. 'We will go there at once.'

  'You will search for him, will you?'

  'No, Mrs Cheever. All that we will hunt for are some stones.'

  'Stones?'

  'Yes, Mr Bale tells me there were some small stones caught up in Gabriel's coat. He's kept them as evidence. If we can find out where they came from, we'll know where he was struck down.'

  'I see.'

  'At least we now have some idea where to look,' he said getting up.

  She held his arm. 'As for the other things I told you…'

  'Nobody will ever know anything about them from me.'

  'Thank you.'

  'But what about your mother?' he said. 'Will you tell her the truth now?' She shook her head. 'It might be a way to bring you closer together.'

  'Mother is too ill to cope with terrible news. If she heard that I had betrayed her by going behind her back, she would never forgive me. She might even say that Gabriel's death was a judgement on me. In a way,' she confessed, 'I suppose it is.'

  'No, Mrs Cheever. You were unlucky, that's all. It was a quirk of fate.'

  'Catch them, Mr Redmayne,' she urged. 'Catch them all.'

  'We will.'

  After giving her more assurances, he went into the dining room to tell Susan that he was leaving. Sorry to see him go, she could tell from his expression that Lucy had confided in him. When she accompanied him to the door to wave him off, something was troubling her.

  'Mr Redmayne?'

  'Yes?'

  'Earlier today, you dictated a letter for me to write.'

  'Yes - to Miss Celia Hemmings.'

  'Why did you ask me to send it?'

  'There's a simple answer to that.'

  'Is there?'

  'Yes,' he said with a grin. 'I want to read her reply.'

  Celia Hemmings took time to make up her mind. She was tempted to accept the invitation, if only to gain more insight into the family from which Gabriel Cheever sprang. But she could see the perils implicit in the situation as well. A meeting with a bereaved sister could be embarrassing for both of them. After mulling it over, she came round to the view that nothing was to be gained by a meeting with a woman she did not know and had no desire to befriend. Reaching for a sheet of paper, she dashed off a quick note.

  Five minutes later, it was being carried towards Knightrider Street.

  'Why are we going to Warwick Lane?' asked Jonathan Bale, walking beside him.

  'That's where Gabriel went on the night of the murder,' said Christopher.

  'Why?'

  'To see a friend.'

  'Is that what his wife told you?'

  'Yes, Mr Bale.'

  'Why had she kept the information back until now?'

  'Who knows?' said Christopher evasively. 'Bereavement has strange effects.'

  They turned into Creed Lane and headed north, wondering if they were following the route that Gabriel Cheever had taken on the night he was murdered.

  'Warwick Lane is not far,' noted Jonathan. 'It's in Faringdon Ward Within. Not an impossible distance from Paul's Wharf. They might have killed him there and brought his body to Baynard's Castle Ward.'

  'That's only supposition.'

  'I agree.'

  'He could have been brought to the wharf by boat.'

  'That, too, is possible. I just have the feeling that the murder did not occur in my ward. If I could prove that,' he confessed, 'it would make me feel better.'

  Christopher smiled. 'To prove that your ward was innocent?'

  'Oh, there's nothing innocent about it, Mr Redmayne. You should walk through its streets at night. All sorts of crimes take place there under the cover of darkness.'

  'I dare say.'

  'We have our share of murders, alas.'

  'It was how we first met, Mr Bale. When one of my clients was killed.'

  'I am not likely to forget.'

  'Nor me,' said Christopher. 'It was my first commission. I spent all that time working on the drawings but the house was never built. At least, this latest commission will not be abandoned because of a murder,' he went on happily. 'Sir Julius insists that he still wants his new house.'

  'Yes, Mr Redmayne, he mentioned that to me.'

  Christopher was surprised. 'You've met Sir Julius?'

  'He called on me earlier,' said Jonathan. 'When you came to fetch me, Sir Julius had only just left. He wanted to thank me for my part in the arrest.'

  'Quite rightly.'

  'Then he more or less ordered me to invite him in.'

  'That sounds like Sir Julius Cheever.'

  'We talked for a long time.'

  'I knew that the two of you would get on.'

  'You should not have told him about the Battle of Worcester,' said Jonathan, turning to him. 'It's something I never speak about.'

  'Why not? Are you ashamed of your part in it?'

  'Quite the opposite.'

  'Then you must have enjoyed meeting one of your colonel
s in that battle.'

  'I did, Mr Redmayne. Sir Julius is an interesting man.'

  'And an unpredictable one.'

  They crossed Ludgate Street and continued along Ave Maria Lane. Though they were chatting easily, both of them kept their eyes peeled for any lanes or alleys that might have been used in the ambush of Gabriel Cheever. At the next junction, they crossed into Warwick Lane itself and carried on until they almost got to Newgate Street. Jonathan spotted an alleyway to the left and decided to explore it, studying the ground with care as he did so. Unable to find what he was after, he gave up the search and went back to Warwick Lane to discover that Christopher had vanished. Assuming that his friend had turned into Newgate Street, he walked in that direction but a call brought him to an abrupt halt.

  'Mr Bale!' shouted Christopher.

  'Where are you?' asking Jonathan, looking around.

  'Down here!'

  Another narrow alleyway ran off to the left and bent sharply. Christopher's voice was coming from round the corner. Jonathan lengthened his stride and went down the alleyway. When he came round the bend, he saw that his friend was kneeling down.

  'Take a look at these, Mr Bale,' said Christopher.

  'Stones?'

  'Hundreds of them.'

  Jonathan joined him and bent down to scoop up a handful of small white stones. Holding them on the palm of one hand, he used the other to reach in his pocket. When he brought out the stones that had been caught up in the dead man's coat, he placed them beside the others. Christopher scrutinised them.

  'A perfect match!' he observed.

  'I've never seen stones like this anywhere in my ward,' said Jonathan, feeling their texture. 'They're like chippings from a statue. There must be a stonemason nearby.'

  'Then he deserves our thanks,' said Christopher with a grin. 'I think we may have stumbled on the scene of the crime, Mr Bale. And all because you kept a few stones in your pocket.'

  Jonathan looked around. A number of houses backed on to the alleyway. Some had doors to their gardens. Even in daylight, it was a fairly private place. At night, it would make an ideal venue in which someone could lurk.

  'Who was this friend that Mr Cheever was visiting?' wondered Jonathan.

  'His wife refused to tell me.'

  'Her husband was killed here. I'm certain of it. They must have taken him to Paul's Wharf across the back of a horse.' He scratched his head. 'Why kill him when they could have stolen the diary while he was out of the house? And if they did have reason to murder Gabriel Cheever, why move him? Why not leave the body here?'

  'They had to go to his house, remember,' said Christopher. 'My guess is that they were fearful of being discovered so they threw his body across a horse, took Gabriel with them, used his key to steal what they wanted then went down to the river to find a hiding place for the corpse.'

  'Paul's Wharf. They dumped the body beside the warehouse,' recalled Jonathan. 'It had far less chance of being discovered there than in this alley.'

  'They reckoned without Mr Warburton's dog.'

  Jonathan tossed all the stones away. 'We need to search for witnesses,' he said. 'It may just be that someone heard or saw something suspicious that night. I'll start with the houses that back on to the alley.'

  'You'll have to do that on your own, I fear,' said Christopher.

  'It's not my job, Mr Redmayne. I want to help you to hunt down those accomplices. I know two of the constables in this ward. They can knock on doors in my stead. I'll go and speak to them. But thank you for bringing me here,' he said solemnly. 'Now we know where he was killed. That's put my mind at rest.'

  'Good. I'll get back to Knightrider Street to continue the search.'

  'For what?'

  'Somebody with neat handwriting, Mr Bale.'

  'Stay as long as you wish, Sir Julius,' said Lucy Cheever. 'You're very welcome.'

  'I'll inconvenience you no longer than is necessary,' he said. 'But I would like to wait until Mr Redmayne gets back. Where has he gone, Susan?'

  'For a walk with Mr Bale,' said his daughter.

  'I met the worthy constable when you turned me out into the street.'

  'I did not turn you out, Father.'

  He gave a chuckle. 'You told me how close Mr Bale lived because you knew that I'd want to speak to the fellow. We had a long talk. Did you know he was a shipwright?'

  'No,' she said.

  'He spoke very highly of Mr Redmayne.'

  'I can understand that.'

  'So can I,' said Lucy. 'Mr Redmayne has been so good to me. Whenever I look at that face of his, I remember that he got those scars fighting for his life against Gabriel's killer.'

  They were in the parlour at the house in Knightrider Street. Sir Julius was anxious for the latest news. One man might be in custody but there were accomplices still at liberty. He was very disappointed not to be able to confront his son's killer. It made him even more eager to take part in the hunt for the others.

  'How long will they be?' he said impatiently

  'I have no idea, Father.'

  'But they will come back here?'

  'Mr Redmayne promised that he would.'

  'They have not gone all that far,' volunteered Lucy.

  'I wish I'd been here when they left,' said Sir Julius, tapping his foot. 'I could have gone with them. They obviously went in search of more evidence.'

  'It might be best if you did not interfere,' suggested his daughter.

  'Interfere? It was my son who was murdered Susan.'

  'His killer is now in prison. Thanks to Mr Redmayne and Mr Bale. They can manage very well on their own, Father, without having you under their feet.'

  'I'm under nobody's feet.'

  'No, Sir Julius,' said Lucy. 'Of course not. But Susan makes a sound point. They have worked so well on their own, it might be easier if they continue that way.'

  'What am I supposed to do - sit on my hands and wait?'

  'Yes,' said Susan firmly.

  'It's foreign to my nature.'

  She laughed. 'You need hardly tell me that.'

  'I want to be involved in the action?' he declared.

  Sir Julius pulled himself to his feet and crossed to the window. Susan gestured an apology at Lucy who responded with a tolerant smile. Both women were relieved when he saw something that made him hurry out of the room to open the front door. Hoping that Christopher had returned, Susan went out after him. Lucy waited with trepidation, unsure whether or not Christopher had kept his promise. She had entrusted him with a secret that could be dangerous in the wrong hands. As soon as he came into the room with the others, however, she knew that he had not betrayed her. His greeting was warm, his smile full of gratitude.

  'Where have you been?' demanded Sir Julius.

  'Father!' scolded Susan. 'Let Mr Redmayne catch his breath.'

  'I want to know.'

  'We were looking for the scene of the crime, Sir Julius,' said Christopher. 'Acting on information from an anonymous source, we went to Warwick Lane and found what we have been after for some time.'

  His version of events was succinct and carefully edited. Lucy was relieved that he made no reference to her, though she was distressed to think that her husband had been murdered in one place then transported through the streets to the wharf. Susan was delighted to have Christopher back in the house and signalled with a glance that she had something for him. Sir Julius kept pressing for details that Christopher did not give.

  'Where did this information come from?' he asked.

  'That's immaterial,' said Christopher. 'The point is that we now know who killed your son and where the crime occurred. All that is left to establish is motive.'

  'How will you do that?'

  'By gathering evidence.'

  'Let me help you.'

  'No, Sir Julius. This is work for Mr Bale and me.'

  'Three men are better than two.'

  'Not in this case. We know what to look for and where to find it.'

  Sir Juliu
s was hurt. 'Am I to be excluded altogether from the hunt?'

  'Yes, Father,' said Susan. 'I told you not to impede Mr Redmayne.'

  'That's not what he's doing, Miss Cheever,' said Christopher. 'I have great sympathy with your father and I'm grateful for his offer of assistance. But it is not what we need at this point. We have to move stealthily.'

  'Is there no role at all for me?' asked Sir Julius.

  'Wait until we get back, Sir Julius. Here or at the King's Head.'

  'The King's Head it will be,' said the other disconsolately. 'I've no wish to intrude here any longer. Where will you go, Mr Redmayne?'

  'I have to see someone in Bedford Street.'

  'Another of your anonymous informants?' said Sir Julius sceptically.

  'Oh, no. This gentleman is far from anonymous. I wonder if you would excuse us if I ask for a moment alone with your daughter, Sir Julius?' asked Christopher, moving to the door. 'I will not keep her a minute.'

  Susan did not wait for her father's permission. She followed Christopher into the hall and closed the door behind them. They spoke in whispers.

  'You had a reply?' he said.

  'Yes, Mr Redmayne,' she said, handing over the letter that she pulled from her sleeve. 'It arrived just before Father did.'

  'What does she say?'

  'Miss Hemmings declines my invitation.'

  Christopher looked at the distinctive handwriting and felt a surge of triumph. 'It is just as well,' he said. 'For she will be quite unable to meet you now.'

  Unaware of developments elsewhere, Henry Redmayne was still suffering the torments of the damned. He writhed in unremitting pain. A blackmail demand had been issued and a death threat made. All that he needed to compound his misery was an unexpected visit from his censorious father. If the Dean of Gloucester were to arrive on the heels of Lord Ulvercombe, he thought, he would at least be on hand to identify his son's dead body. He rebuked himself yet again for his folly in writing so passionately to his mistress. It had earned him a night of ecstasy but the memory of that was of little practical use to him; indeed, he now looked back on it with dread. Lady Ulvercombe had been a spirited lover but an indiscreet one. At least, he consoled himself, he would never have to see her again.

  The sound of the doorbell made him jump from his chair in the dining room. When his brother was shown in, he clasped him like a drowning man about to go under the water for the last time.