The Case of the Watching Boy (Andrew Tillet, Sara Wiggins & Inspector Wyatt Book 9)
Page 12
“Partly because I didn’t want to worry you—and partly for another reason I’ll get to in a moment.”
“Didn’t the people you were concerned about, Count John and those with him, know about your wife and child?” asked Wyatt.
“They knew about Mary. When we decided to get married, I asked my father to come to the wedding. But even though he admired the British and had married an Englishwoman himself, he was angry that I was marrying one also and refused to come.”
“For political reasons?” asked Chadwick.
“Yes. His brother, the king, had been furious at him when he married my mother instead of someone connected with one of the royal families. That breach was only healed when my father married the Countess Sylvia. However, the king found out about my marriage, as did Sylvia and John; they found out about it and used it against me. However, my father had become quite ill by the time my son, Michael, was born and I saw no reason to upset him further, so I never told him.”
“That means that no one knew about Michael until fairly recently,” said Wyatt.
“I don’t think anyone did until I went to Bucharest for my father’s funeral. At that point I had become next in line for the throne and they must have looked into my marriage more carefully and discovered I had a son who would succeed to the throne after me. Then, about three weeks ago, I was summoned to Bucharest by the king. The day I got there, another attempt was made on my life.”
“What sort?” asked Wyatt.
“Mitya and I were going out in the evening when someone shot at me.”
“They fire three times,” said Mitya. “One of the bullets go through the prince’s hat before I am able to get him into cover.”
“When I saw the king the next day, I told him about the attempts,” said the prince, “told him I thought my stepbrother John was behind them, and he became furious at me, said I was saying that because I hated John. I told him that wasn’t true, asked him to speak to Count Rozarin about it. He said he had summoned Rozarin to Bucharest at the same time he had summoned me, but the count had not yet arrived and no one knew where he was. But, when I pressed him, he agreed to another meeting in a day or so in which I could detail my charges against John.”
“What happened at the meeting?” asked Chadwick.
“There was no meeting. I got word that it was to take place the following night on the king’s yacht. A launch was sent to take Mitya and me out there. When we were about halfway to the yacht, the launch blew up.”
“An accident?” said Wyatt.
“Do you think it was?”
“No.”
“I’m sure it was not. The boatman was killed instantly. I was stunned and would have drowned if Mitya had not kept me afloat until I regained consciousness. We got to shore and decided that the best thing we could do would be to let everyone think we had died in the explosion and get out of Rumania.”
“Was that when you disguised yourselves as Gypsies?” asked Andrew.
“Yes. Mitya had had a Gypsy nurse when he was a boy, and she and her whole family still feel as if he were her son. They gave us clothes and the false papers we needed to leave Rumania and get to England.”
“What about that telegram I got saying that you had had an accident and were feared lost?” said Mrs. Vickery. “Did you send it?”
“No, my dear,” said the prince. “The wreckage of the boat was found, and one of my friends who knew I was on it sent you the telegram.”
“It’s still too much for me,” said Mrs. Vickery. “I still don’t feel as if I’ve absorbed it all—not just what happened, but what it means.”
“I know,” said the prince. “And as far as that’s concerned, I did something a little while ago that almost took care of that.”
“What was that?”
“In spite of I say no,” said Dimitroff, “he write a note to Katarov saying that if he gave back boy all safe, he will give up throne—how you say it?—abdicate.”
“I thought that’s what you were doing with that note,” said Wyatt. “And I’m glad your offer never went into effect.”
“So am I,” said Chadwick. “Especially in the light of the most recent developments.”
“What developments are those?”
“They’re the reason I came here tonight,” said Chadwick. “And I think you’ll find them reassuring. You said that the king was angry because he did not know what had happened to Count Rozarin. Well, the fact is that the count was—and still is—in a hospital in Paris.”
“Was he hurt?”
“There was an attempt made to assassinate him as there was to kill you. He was wounded and was unconscious for a while, but the doctors assure us that he will recover. Meanwhile, the French police caught the man who shot him, and he has been identified as someone very close to Count John. This news—and the news of what happened to you, the thought you had been killed—has apparently convinced the king that everything you said to him was true. As a result, Count John and his mother are being held under house arrest pending an inquiry, and Colonel Katarov, Benesh, and all of Count John’s other supporters here in London have been ordered home.”
“But then it’s all over!”
“Yes, Your Majesty. That particular problem seems to be settled. But there are others, aren’t there?”
“Yes,” said the prince. “It’s very clever of you to realize that.”
“What does he mean?” asked his wife.
“I said there were several reasons why I didn’t tell you who I was. One was because of the way I thought you would feel. Has it occurred to you that as things stand, one day in the not too distant future, I will be—not Prince of Moldavia—but King of Rumania? Then you will become queen and Michael will be king after me?”
The color left his wife’s face, and she sat there for a moment in silence.
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said finally. “And I’m not sure I like the idea.”
“I suspected you wouldn’t. Some women would, of course, be thrilled at the idea of being a queen, but I didn’t think you would be. And, to be honest, I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of being king. In fact, when my father died, I was going to tell that to my uncle, suggest that perhaps we should discuss the whole matter of the succession. But before I could, I realized what my stepbrother was doing.”
“Trying to kill you.”
“Yes. He would of course have been next in line for the throne if I had refused to accept it. But once I realized how unscrupulous he was, I began to have second thoughts about the matter.”
“Yes,” said his wife. “I can see that.”
“So we’re back to the original dilemma. How do you feel about the prospect of my becoming king? Do you accept it? Can you accept it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.”
“Excuse me,” said Dimitroff suddenly and vehemently. “I understand why you no want to say, but I like to say something.” He turned to the prince. “We have been together much these last months and I know you well now—better than anyone except your wife. And so I know you do not really want to be king. You say so many times when we are alone together, and you say it again just now. You do not want to be king because you know what it means. All your life you have been preparing for it—studying, thinking—and still you do not want it. What you would like is to be private, be with your wife and son, teaching at university. On other hand, there is your stepbrother, Count John. He not only want to be king, he want it enough so that he kill for it! And what kind of king would he make? Not good—a very bad king! I say to you, men who do not really want to be kings are usually the ones who should be. And those who want to be—want it too much—are usually wrong. But whether you want it or not, I say you should be king! And so I ask you—no, I beg you in the name of your father and my father—that you not say no to it!”
The prince looked at him for a long moment and then at his wife.
“Well, my dear, what have you to say now?”
&n
bsp; She did not look at him. She looked down, but Andrew had a feeling that she was looking inside herself.
“You asked me if I could accept the idea and what it means to me, to Michael, and to you,” she said finally. “And the answer is, yes, I can. But the decision—the final decision as to whether you will or will not be king—must be yours.”
“Yes, I suppose it must be,” said the prince.
Now he looked at the three young people—and Andrew had a feeling that he was not just seeing them, but hundreds, thousands of other young people—everyone, in fact, who would help make up the future. Andrew had always been interested in history. And he suddenly had a sense that this was what it was about—what it was—not just dates, battles, laws, but what people thought and did about other people, the decisions no one knew about that changed the course of the world’s affairs.
Finally the prince nodded. “All right, Mitya,” he said. “I promise you that when the time comes, I won’t say no.”
Dimitroff let out his breath in a long sigh, and Andrew realized that he had been holding his breath, too.
“I don’t think the pub’s closed yet,” said Chadwick. “But even if it is, do you think you can use your influence with the landlord, Wyatt? This calls for a toast—and one that can only be drunk in champagne.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Wyatt.
About the Author
Born in New York City, Robert Newman (1909–1988) was among the pioneers of early radio and was chief writer for the Inner Sanctum Mysteries and Murder at Midnight—forerunners of The Twilight Zone that remain cult favorites to this day. In 1944 Newman was put in charge of the radio campaign to reelect Franklin D. Roosevelt. He was also one of the founding members of the Radio Writers Guild, which became the Writers Guild of America.
In 1973 Newman began writing books for children, most notably the Andrew Tillet, Sara Wiggins & Inspector Wyatt mysteries. The series takes place in Victorian London and follows the adventures of two teenage amateur detectives who begin as Baker Street Irregulars. Newman has also written books of fantasy, among them Merlin’s Mistake and The Testing of Tertius. His books based on myths and folklore include Grettir the Strong, and he has published two adult novels.
Newman was married to the writer Dorothy Crayder. Their daughter, Hila Feil, has also published novels for children and young adults. Newman lived his last days in Stonington, Connecticut.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1987 by Robert Newman
Cover design by Jason Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-4976-8690-8
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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ANDREW TILLET, SARA WIGGINS & INSPECTOR WYATT EBOOKS
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