A Death at a Gentleman's Club

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Please, do not try to convince me you are concerned for my state of mind,’ I sobbed. Angrily I brushed away tears from my face. I hated that I could not stop crying. ‘You have done nothing but deceive me from the first.’

  ‘You are very wrong,’ said Fitzroy, his voice low, ‘I have done nothing but try to protect you. I brought you into the service so I could keep you under my watchful eye after your father died. That you have proved so effective has been an unforeseen bonus. I have done everything I could to keep you safe and to help you become well-established.’

  ‘Do not even dare to take credit for Bertram loving me!’ I said. ‘Do not even dare. He is a far better man than you will ever be.’

  ‘On that we can agree,’ said the spy softly.

  I felt a wave of emotion building up inside me. I wanted to shout and rage at him, but I had still enough sense to know I did not want to draw the killer’s attention to the finding of the papers.

  ‘You are upset,’ said Fitzroy. ‘That is understandable.’

  I had to bite the inside of my mouth not to scream at him. It hurt. I tasted blood. Fitzroy continued to speak in a low, soft voice, but I did not listen to a single word. I pushed past him and fled. No footsteps followed me.

  I ran into the coffee room and, sighting my mother beside The Bishop, did something I had not done since I was six years old. I flung myself into her arms, weeping.

  My mother felt stiff against me, but within moments her arms came tightly around me. ‘Who has had the audacity to distress my daughter?’ she said in voice that boded ill for even Fitzroy.

  ‘Perhaps we should remove ourselves to another room,’ said The Bishop. I was still sobbing violently. ‘I believe Euphemia might require some time to recover. Ah, here is Bertram. Bring the brandy along, will you, there’s a good chap. Joe, you had better come too.’

  I believe I came as close to real hysteria that day than at any other time in my life to date. I was only vaguely aware of being helped from the room. The Bishop procured a key from the front desk and took all of us into one of the smaller private chambers – although, thankfully, not the one in which Lovelock had been found. It had a similarly sized desk but was slightly larger than Lovelock’s room. Chairs were provided for my mother and myself. As I gradually pulled myself together I was aware Bertram, The Bishop, and Joe were standing around in various states of awkwardness. My mother held the brandy glass. From time to time she made me take a sip. Once the initial emotional storm was over, she fell back into what I knew as her usual persona. ‘Honestly, Euphemia, what a scene you made! I hope you had good reason.’

  ‘I rather hope she didn’t!’ said Bertram stoutly.

  ‘Ah, yes, quite,’ said The Bishop. ‘From what you have told me of Euphemia’s character, this display is much at odds with her normal demeanour.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’ demanded my mother. She looked me over as if she were checking the seams on a dress. ‘I cannot see any sign of injury,’ she said.

  ‘Fitzroy,’ I said, hiccupping as I swallowed my last tears.

  Bertram uttered a cry of rage. ‘What has the bounder done?’ he demanded.

  ‘That name,’ said my mother, ‘it seems vaguely familiar. Do we know any Fitzroys, Husband?’

  ‘He is the Crown Agent we have been working for,’ I said.

  Little Joe let out an ‘oh’ of surprise. ‘Are you a spy, Euphemia?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘But Bertram and I have both had the misfortune of being called upon by the British Secret Service to aid them.’

  ‘Euphemia, I will not listen to fairy tales,’ said my mother.

  ‘She is quite correct, ma’am,’ said Bertram. ‘It is not anything either of us wanted to be involved with, but when called upon to do one’s duty for King and Country, one has to answer.’

  ‘Of course,’ said The Bishop. ‘But it is unusual, is it not, to involve a young woman?’

  ‘That is what I have always thought,’ said Bertram. ‘But apparently Euphemia is particularly gifted at this sort of work. At least according to Fitzroy.’ Then he obviously remembered where the conversation had started. ‘What did the cad do?’

  I dried my tears with the last scrap of dry cloth on my very wet handkerchief. I looked around the room. ‘I do not know if I am allowed to say.’

  ‘Dammit,’ said Bertram. ‘You can tell me. We are under the same oath.’

  ‘But I am unsure of everyone else.’

  ‘That is ridiculous,’ said my mother.

  ‘Actually, it’s not,’ said Bertram, contradicting my mother for the second time without fear. ‘There are severe penalties for betraying state secrets.’

  ‘I am her mother! I demand to know.’

  ‘So, it’s a secret,’ said Bertram, ‘that has you so upset. Fitzroy didn’t actually do anything?’

  I looked at him puzzled.

  ‘I mean nothing…physical,’ said Bertram blushing a crimson red. ‘He didn’t try to kiss you or anything?’

  ‘Good God, no!’ I said and earned myself a reproving look from The Bishop. ‘If anything, it was the other way round.’

  ‘You kissed him!‘ said Bertram and Joe together in varying degrees of horror.

  ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘I slapped him.’

  ‘Oh well, that’s all right,’ said Bertram. ‘If you ask me, that man has been asking for a damn good slap for a long time.’ He addressed my mother and stepfather, ‘He is insufferably smug and secretive. Only just scrapes by as a gentleman. Probably dragged up in a gutter somewhere.’

  ‘He’s a Lord,’ I said. ‘Minor title,’ I added for my mother’s benefit. ‘I doubt it’s hereditary.’

  ‘No one worth worrying over, then,’ said my mother. This time The Bishop gave her a reproving look.

  ‘Why did he make you cry, Effie?’ asked Joe plaintively, falling back on his childish nickname for me.20

  I shrugged helplessly. ‘I really don’t think I can tell you.’ Tears trickled down the side of my nose. ‘It is so unfair!’ I exclaimed.

  It was at this point that Fitzroy stepped into the room. He acknowledged everyone with a nod. ‘How much has Euphemia told you?’ he asked, coming right to the point.

  I wouldn’t even look at him, so it was left to Bertram to answer, ‘Nothing, except that she slapped you because she learned something that distressed her.’

  Fitzroy went over to the desk and sat on it, so everyone in the room swivelled their attention to him. ‘Normally, I would deny all knowledge of it, but…’ He sighed. ‘Need I say that what I will tell you must not be repeated? Not only my life would be forfeit if this episode ever came to light.’ His gaze flickered to Joe. ‘I repeat, none of you must ever mention what I will tell you now.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Besides, it would only be denied.’

  ‘I know you,’ said my mother. ‘You came to the vicarage shortly before my first husband died. You argued with him. I could hear you shouting in our library.’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘I thought you might remember me. I came to warn your late husband, Mrs Hawthorn, that his life was in danger.’

  ‘Are you a doctor?’ asked little Joe.

  ‘No, I’m a spy, Joe,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I came to tell your father than a man, a former agent of the Crown turned traitor, and whom I knew only as Helios, might mean harm to your father. I begged him to tell me if he knew where Helios might be, or even his real name. Your father did not believe a word I said.’

  ‘My husband died of a heart attack,’ said my mother. ‘You may have brought that closer with your argument, but there was no Helios involved.’

  ‘Oh, but there was. You see, his food was poisoned with digitalis,’ said Fitzroy.

  ‘How the devil would you know that?’ said The Bishop sharply.

  Fitzroy did not comment. It was left to Bertram to say, ‘There is only one way, other than being the poisoner himself, that he could know.’

  I followed his logic slowly. Then I shot out of my seat. ‘You had his bod
y exhumed! That is why you wanted the family away from the vicarage so quickly!’

  ‘Mama?’ said little Joe in a small voice. I saw Bertram put an arm around his shoulder and say something softly.

  ‘It is right for a child to hear this?’ said The Bishop, his voice now tinged with anger.

  ‘I generally don’t have time for niceties,’ said Fitzroy. ‘That is why I am not a diplomat. I think it better that you all know the truth, although I caution you again, on your honour, not to repeat a word I have said. The whole situation would be completely disavowed, and you might find your lives becoming inexplicably more difficult.’

  My mother caught my arm. ‘Sit down, Euphemia. I believe we need to hear what this man has to say.’ I complied, because I wanted them all to know.

  ‘Josiah Martins was a polyglot. That means, Joe, that he spoke a remarkable number of languages with ease. He accompanied the first British envoy to Berlin in 1878 shortly after he left Cambridge University. However, one of the team died, and it was assumed at the time the dead man was a traitor. The whole team was brought back to England and another sent out to work on the final treaty. The agent who had led the team was given an entirely new identity and life. All his information was expunged from our records. Any mention of him in reports is merely by his codename, Helios. The other civilian assets were given reassignments to a different area of the country, but otherwise their identities and their lives did not change, and they were never asked to work for the Crown again. We feared one or more of them could have been compromised.’

  ‘My Papa was a spy!’ said Little Joe with awe.

  ‘He worked with spies,’ corrected Fitzroy with a slight smile. ‘He was a good and moral man. That alone would disqualify him from being a spy, but he was more than eager to do his duty by Sovereign and Country.’

  ‘But Helios found him,’ said my mother. ‘How are you involved, Mr Fitzroy? You are clearly too young to have been in Berlin yourself.’

  ‘I inherited the case,’ said the spy. ‘I was given a watching brief on all remaining civilian assets. I am afraid I was too slow on the uptake. Helios slowly killed them off, one by one. When I finally did realise that something was wrong, I looked back over the case and spoke to as many of the personnel who had been present at the Treaty of Berlin that were left alive. It took a great deal of time and effort and had to be fitted in among my other duties. It was, therefore, only three years ago that I concluded Helios was really the guilty party. This is when I went to warn Mr Martins, the last of the surviving assets.’

  ‘But he did not believe you,’ said my mother. ‘You cannot have made a compelling case.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Your husband had known Helios, and while I eventually got him to admit he had at first had some niggling doubts about the man, he had eventually, like so many others, fallen under this master manipulator’s spell. Though I suspect, even if he had felt some qualms about Helios, your husband’s own sense of honour could not allow him to even imagine the treachery I was asking him to accept. His refusal cost him his life. After he died I kept an eye on Euphemia. It was known she had been especially close to her father, and it was not inconceivable that Helios might imagine that Josiah had told her about what had happened in Berlin. Killian Lovelock was not part of the official team, so it was quite some time before I unearthed him. But as soon as I did, and I heard about his memoirs, I set a watch on him as well. I knew that Helios could not risk that book ever being published.’

  ‘Did you warn him too?’ said my mother.

  Fitzroy shook his head. ‘He was an old man, without family.’

  ‘May God have mercy on your soul,’ said The Bishop.

  ‘Currently Helios is trapped in this building. However, I still do not have an identification. Euphemia and Bertram were working on that for me when Euphemia, unfortunately, discovered her father’s role in this tragedy.’

  ‘You never told her,’ said Bertram. ‘You utter b…’

  At this moment, my mother stood up. For a moment I thought she was going to attack the spy. He didn’t flinch, but I saw him pale. Instead, my mother put her hands over Joe’s ears. ‘I may abhor your language, Mr Stapleford,’ she said, ‘but not your opinion.’

  ‘It is all most wicked and unfortunate,’ said The Bishop sadly.

  ‘You must admit, Mother, that it explains a lot about both Father’s behaviour and our eviction from the vicarage,’ I said.

  ‘I take it Reverend Martins was once again interred with a proper Christian burial,’ said The Bishop.

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘I will attempt to make myself available to answer further questions on another occasion, but now I must turn my attention to the situation in hand. Now, Bertram and Euphemia, I still require your assistance.’

  ‘You cannot possibly ask my daughter to work alongside a man who allowed her father to die through his own inaction?’ said my mother coldly.

  ‘I believe your daughter would rather seek justice for her father than bother about my involvement,’ said Fitzroy.

  My mother began to protest, but I silenced her. ‘He is correct, Mother. I wish justice for Papa.’ I finally faced the spy. I found his expression completely unreadable. ‘However, I have told you everything I discovered. I gave you what I found of the memoirs.’

  ‘ And they do not name Helios,’ said Fitzroy.

  ‘So, we are back at square one, again,’ said Bertram. ‘Will this nightmare never end?’

  ‘That is why you decided to speak with my family, is it not?’ I said. ‘You knew I would never help you if you denied them true understanding of the circumstances of my father’s demise.’

  ‘It was the liver that was poisoned, I suppose,’ said my mother, caught between anger and tears. ‘Such an uncouth dish. None of us would ever touch it, but he did love it so.’

  ‘What made you think of the writing desks?’ said Fitzroy.

  ‘It was something Richenda said - where is she, by the way?’

  ‘Stuffing herself with cake, I imagine,’ said the spy. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘Two things really. It was about her daughter.’ Fitzroy gave a sigh of irritation. I ignored him and continued. ‘She said when Amy stole things for attention, she would hide them in the most obvious places. Like planting a green pen among tulip stems in a garden.’

  ‘She must be a most ill-disciplined child,’ said my mother.

  ‘She is a scamp,’ I said.

  ‘All right, I follow the hiding-in-plain sight idea,’ said Fitzroy. ‘What else?’

  ‘That Amy would move her prize during the day, so that she would put it into rooms Richenda believed had already been searched. In that manner she could keep something hidden for quite some time.’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘I see. It is not as helpful as I had hoped. I take it you saw the constables searching the writing desks and decided to try there?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I haven’t come across any of your men.’

  ‘So why there?’ said the spy.

  ‘I suppose because of the association with writing,’ said Bertram.

  ‘No, that wasn’t it. I didn’t even remember the desks existed until I - until I saw Wilkes writing a note on his lap.’ I looked up into Fitzroy’s eyes and saw my understanding reflected in his. Without another word, Fitzroy ran from the room with me hot on his heels.

  20When you are two years old, Euphemia is far too much of a mouthful to bother with.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A Bloody Ending

  Fitzroy pelted along the corridor in front of me, but I had been living in the country for some time now and I was fitter than I had been for many years. I caught up to him at the door to the Smoking Room.

  ‘Stand back,’ he said softly. ‘This will be dangerous.’

  ‘That is why you should not face him alone,’ I said equally quietly.

  At this point most gentlemen would have insisted a young lady left. Fitzroy did not. He merely nodded. If only he had not…
Whatever else, I valued that he respected me as a person and not some frail flower to protect. Behind me I could hear Bertram’s heavy steps.

  Fitzroy cocked an ear. ‘It has to be now,’ he said. I knew he meant before Bertram’s well-meaning intervention forewarned Helios. ‘Ready?’

  I nodded, and Fitzroy opened the door.

  The window remained open and the air felt cool on our faces. Fitzroy froze on the threshold with me beside him. Between us we completely blocked the doorway. I felt myself tremble, but this was not due to the falling temperature. Before us stood Wilkes, who we now realised was Helios. He had written on his lap rather than risk drawing attention to the writing desks where he had last hidden the memoirs. He stood by the fire, a pleasant smile on his face, and the edge of a knife resting against Richenda’s jugular vein. She was white as ash, but neither cried nor struggled. Her eyes were rimmed red, but she appeared to be composed.

  ‘I was wondering how long it would take you to work it out,’ said Helios in his well-spoken tones. ‘I do not believe you are quite as sharp as your reputation suggests, Fitzroy. It has been altogether disappointing. You seem to rely on women to do your work for you.’

  ‘Your maternal grandmother was Bulgarian, wasn’t she? What did the Russians promise you? Land and titles? You must have felt such a fool when you learned they had no intention of supporting your motherland’s presence at the Treaty?’ said Fitzroy.

  ‘At least you did your homework,’ said Wilkes. ‘It is a pity it took you so long. You could not save her father, could you? You must have been most upset to learn your dear mentor’s mistakes cost your father his life, Miss Martins.’

  If Fitzroy had taught me anything he had taught me that when someone goads you, they are desperate for a reaction. They know they are losing. The best action you can take in return is to retain your composure.

  ‘Good afternoon, Richenda,’ I said as if nothing was out of the ordinary. ‘I should have known you would get to the solution before me. You think most creatively.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Richenda weakly. Her eyes pleaded with me to rescue her. I knew she needed to stay calm. ‘Bit of an accident, really.’