When Danylo was unable to speak, his brother spoke for him.
‘Geroy,’ Fecker said. ‘We talk on train. I tell brat about you and Banyak and love. I tell him how Bolshoydick and Jimmy is also love. I tell him this is not why he is here. I tell him how I also have love for you, but not in queer way, and he understands. My brat is a lamb that escapes the slaughter, and he tells me his life is yours. I say you not want that. You are good man, I say, and he says he will have sex with pigs for you…’
‘Good Lord!’
‘Is village expression. It not mean he will fuck animals. It mean he do anything for you.’
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ Archer said, wide-eyed at the thought. ‘And thank you, Mr Danylo, but you must understand, you are no longer in the army, nor in the service of the unscrupulous. No doubt Fecker… Mr Andrej has told you of our adventures and of my troubles.’
‘He has, Sir, and I am yours to command.’
‘Yes, you said. Well, right now, I command you to tell me if the position here suits you. If it does, and if my troubles do not put you off, I will remember your words, and should the need arise, ask you to join us when we next go into battle.’
The words might have been overly dramatic, but they worked, and from then on, Danylo had not only proved to be a loyal servant, but had accepted Archer’s way of working, and hard though it was to believe, had relaxed into his new life.
There was, however, still an air of military precision about him which refused to fade, and it showed as the train headed south to meet the boat at Dover.
‘Sir,’ he said, turning back from the window. ‘May we now discuss our tactics?’
‘We may, Doctor Nevidimi,’ Archer grinned. ‘And may I say how well Master Jake’s handiwork looks on you. You are, Sir, a gentleman.’
Danylo shifted in his seat and rubbed his top lip with a finger to disguise a smile. Archer sensed the thrill of a covert operation about him and within himself as he set out his plan.
‘This is our offensive,’ he said. ‘So, please, find holes in it and suggest improvements. On arrival in Dover, I will telegraph ahead to secure us a room at the Station Hotel in Dordrecht. I have used it before, and it allows one to come and go from a rear entrance which will be of use later. First, we shall take the boat to Calais and connect to the Belgian line, arriving in Brussels tonight.’
‘Will we be seen together?’ Danylo interrupted.
‘We will leave this train separately. A cabin is booked in the name of Doctor Nevidimi should you wish to use it, and when we meet while onboard either boat or train, we will do so as accidental strangers.’
‘Understood.’
‘The morning train to Dordrecht leaves at six fifteen, so there won’t be much sleep, I’m afraid, but speed is of the essence. When we arrive, I shall go to the hotel, but you must take a carriage directly to the Institute. Quill’s man, knowing I intend to visit my brother, and suspecting I will have him released into my care, will probably also head for the Institute, there to watch for my arrival. Doctor Nevidimi will have arrived by then, and you will give Doctor Steiner a letter fully explaining what is to happen. Markland has already alerted Steiner to my visit in case Quill is intercepting our communication, and I shall compose yours on the boat. You are then to remain at the asylum until I arrive, which will be later in the day. I can’t be seen to be in too much of a hurry. Quill knows I visit Crispin reluctantly and then only when I must. Allowing enough time for paperwork that we shall not complete, we shall leave the institute with my brother and return to the hotel to wait for news from James. I will wave goodbye to Doctor Nevidimi at the railway station, and there his role in the game will end. How does that sound?’
Danylo considered the proposition before asking, ‘What if Wright and Payne cannot work out the location?’
‘They will.’
‘And you stay in Dordrecht for as long as it takes?’
‘No. We must hope they find the answer quickly. The location could be in the Outer Hebrides for all we know, but Quill will expect me to bring Crispin home so that I may work on the clue in the painting. A day or two at the hotel for the man to adjust to his release is acceptable, but any longer and Quill will become suspicious.’
Danylo nodded in agreement. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘Yes, this will work.’
‘Good. We can discuss the other details later, but for now, will you join me for lunch?’
‘With your gamekeeper, Sir? I am not used to this class of travel.’
‘Of course, together,’ Archer laughed. ‘You are not my under-gamekeeper here. You are a gentleman student of the mind, and, if you will do me the honour, my friend.’
Danylo regarded him with dispassionate eyes, his smooth features unmoved as he thrust out his hand to shake Archer’s, saying, ‘Chest moya, Luchnik. My druz’ya,’ and when Archer asked for a translation, he gave it.
‘The honour is mine, Archer. We are friends.’
Twelve
James and Silas relived the excitement of their charade as Fecker drove them back to Clearwater House. Thomas listened, but contributed little, his face set in a frown which James first thought was his way of recovering after playing his part.
‘The language that came out of your mouth,’ James said, slapping Thomas’ knee in an attempt to cheer him. ‘What the hell is a skank?’
‘Where I’m from, it’s a whore,’ Silas said. ‘Poor old Jake. “Oi! Have you thieved me wallet, skank?’” He imitated Thomas’ Kentish accent perfectly, broadening James’ grin. ‘That was all I heard before I got to work, but you didn’t half look the part, Tommy.’
‘Yes, thank you, Mr Hawkins,’ Thomas snapped.
‘Ach, bag your balls,’ Silas joked, but it didn’t change Thomas’ expression.
‘But you were so good, Tom.’ James squeezed his knee. ‘”I didn’t no more knock you ’bout the ’ead as I know who you be, you skank.”’ His laughter returned. ‘Bloody hell, that Jake is fast. Up the stairs like a greased monkey up a pole.’
‘Or some other mixed metaphor,’ Thomas muttered as he lifted the window shutter and peered out.
Thomas’ seriousness infected the back of the carriage, and gradually the chuckles became coughs, until James said, ‘Sorry, Tom. We were lost in the moment.’
‘It’s alright.’ Thomas forced a smile. ‘How did you get on, Silas?’
Silas related the story from his point of view. How, when he knew the others had trapped the concierge with their distraction, he picked the first lock with ease.
‘There’s this short passage to some stairs, and I was down them in seconds. Found the room. That lock was a bit more difficult, but I still did it under a minute as promised. I found the painting on a great big stand with a sheet over it. It’s out of its frame, there was no glass, and I got off a few pictures like Jake had shown me. Sheet back over it, door locked, no-one will ever know.’
Rubbing his palms on his thighs, Thomas threw a sideways glance at James, blinked and shook his head either in disbelief or admiration.
‘I put me ear to the door and heard Jimmy say something about checking underclothes,’ Silas continued. ‘That’s how I knew you were still at it. So, slipped back, locked up and gave Tommy the nod. I’m not sure Mrs Norwood even knew I’d gone.’
‘Which reminds me,’ Thomas said. ‘What was all that about underwear?’
‘I don’t know what I said,’ James grinned. ‘It just came out.’
‘Even the part where you said, and I quote: “I’m not groping around in a young man’s underclothes. My missus would have a fit if she found out I’d done that again.”’
Silas roared with laughter, and James blushed.
‘I was thinking of you, Tom, both as my missus and as the man whose pants I was investigating.’
To cover his embarrassment, Thomas took over. ‘I was watching the foyer all the time, and no-one saw you at the locks.’
‘It was how I slipped out of City Street nick so many times.’ Silas tapped the side of his nose.
‘And Jake now has the camera,’ James said. ‘So all we can do is wait. But, Silas, can you remember what was on the plinth?’
‘I can,’ Silas said, buttoning his waistcoat. ‘First off, the older man’s missing hand is pointing to a word with some letters under it, but they don’t mean anything. I think it was LXV and an I.’
‘Roman numerals?’ James wrote them in his book.
‘Is that like the things on Archer’s napkin rings?’
‘Yes, Silas,’ Thomas said. ‘Those are His Lordship’s date of birth, but this…’ He studied James’ book briefly. ‘This is sixty-six. Are you sure you have remembered them correctly?’
‘No. But I got the Kodak in as close as I could.’
‘So, again, we must wait.’
Arriving back at Clearwater House, Thomas left the carriage first, and Silas hung back, taking James by the arm to prevent him from following, and asked if everything was alright with Thomas.
‘I think so,’ James replied. ‘Why?’
‘He doesn’t seem very happy.’
‘He gets worried about doing anything that’s outside of his normal routine, mate. You know how he likes everything just so. I don’t think dressing up and flouncing about in a smock is really his thing. It made him uneasy.’
‘Well…’ Silas climbed from the carriage. ‘I don’t want to upset Archie’s oldest mate. I’ll have a word.’
‘Hang on,’ James stopped him. ‘Before you do, you do know that Tom thinks very highly of Archer?’
‘Yeah, I got that.’
‘No,’ James insisted. ‘When Tom says he thinks very highly of someone, he actually means he loves them. You do realise, don’t you?’
Silas blanched. ‘Yeah, Jimmy,’ he said, sadly. ‘I’ve known that from day one.’
‘It’s because they’ve known each other for so long.’ James was wondering why he was telling Silas this. Perhaps he needed to remind himself not to take his lover’s affection for granted.
‘Thank you for your candour, Mr Wright,’ Silas said, pulling himself together. ‘I shall bear that in mind.’
‘I hope I’ve not said the wrong thing.’
‘No, Jimmy. We’ve spoken about it, Archie and me. Don’t worry. I know Tom doesn’t like me much, but…’
‘Oh, no, he does,’ James said as they crossed the yard to the back door. ‘And he isn’t jealous or anything.’
‘Yup, got it, Jimmy.’ Silas slapped him on the back. ‘Enough of that. Let’s get something to eat while we wait for Jake, yeah?’
That afternoon in the study, James was reading a book on early nineteenth century artists, and finding very little about Wolfgang Vaine, when Thomas interrupted.
‘You look very comfortable,’ he said from the doorway. ‘Sorry to disturb, but Jake has returned.’
‘Well, Archer did say to use the house as our own, Tom,’ James grinned, before sticking out his tongue playfully and snapping the book shut.
‘I’m not taking the piss, Tom, you know that, right?’ he asked as they walked to the hall.
‘Aye, Jimmy, I do. And as it was His Lordship’s command, I shall not complain, but please don’t get used to it.’
‘You don’t fancy being a gentleman yourself?’ James held the baize door for the butler as if to test his reaction.
‘Neither of us will ever be that,’ Thomas replied, sailing through. ‘And I mean no offence. It’s not what we were born for.’
‘Happen I disagree with you there. Is Mrs Norwood here?’
‘No, she had to see a solicitor this afternoon.’
‘Good.’
Without warning, James took Thomas’ arm and pulled him face to face. ‘I love you, Mr Payne,’ he said, and before Thomas could reply or object, kissed him long and hard. Thomas stiffened, but when James lifted his arms and placed them around his back, and then held his lover in the same way, Thomas relented.
‘I know you love Archer,’ James said when they broke apart. ‘And I know it’s in a different way, but go easy on Silas. Like you, he’s doing what he thinks is best. We all are, but we each have our own style.’
Thomas brushed James’ hair back into place with his long fingers, before cupping his face.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I do love His Lordship. I have since I first came into service. I was in awe at first, and then it was a crush. Later it became a friendship, and as the intensity grew, so did our feelings towards each other, but it was simply the love one youth feels for another who he knows is of the same… proclivity. We both knew that it could go no further, and we have discussed this— before I met you, and before he met Silas. If there was anything other than deep friendship between us, it was over many years ago, because it could not be otherwise. He is a viscount, I am his servant, and there the story ends.’
‘So,’ James said, still holding Thomas and kissing his fingers. ‘If I was a gentleman you wouldn’t be able to love me?’
‘No,’ Thomas said, and let him go. ‘I mean, yes, of course I would, but if you mean could we be together in any circumstance other than this, it would not be easy.’
James was unsure what he meant by that.
‘But you’d still love me no matter what?’
‘Yes,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘I have no choice but to love you. It’s as if you were meant to be, and I knew that from the first moment I saw you. I would want it no other way. As you say, we all have our styles, and as I would do anything for Archer, so would I do anything for you, because I love you. Differently, but intently and honestly.’
To show his sincerity, Thomas kissed James, something he never did outside of their rooms.
‘There,’ he said. ‘I hope I’ve not given you cause for concern.’
‘Ah, Tom,’ James said, letting him go. ‘You haven’t, but Silas is worried about you, so try and brighten up a bit, yeah? He thinks you’re jealous.’
‘What? Ridiculous.’
‘Come on, Jake will be waiting.’
When he entered the servants’ hall, the first thing that caught James’ attention was Silas’ backside. It was sticking up in the air as he knelt on a chair with his elbows on the table. Jake, on the other side, listened intently to news of the half-sisters they shared, nodding keenly. It was the first chance they had found to catch up with each other since Silas had been in London, and their discussion was animated until Thomas entered. Silas climbed from the chair when he saw him, and Jake leapt to his feet.
‘How did you get on?’ James asked, coming around the table to a large portfolio tied with ribbon.
‘Well, they weren’t none too happy about the rushed job, but money talks in this city, Mr Wright, Sir.’ Jake tidied his jacket and did up a button. ‘But they did it all real fast. They’re in there, and your camera’s over here.’
‘May we sit, Mr Payne?’ James asked, hoping he didn’t sound patronising.
‘Of course. You take the head with the photographs, and we’ll go either side so we can see more clearly.’
‘That’s your place, surely?’
‘The whole of the downstairs is my place,’ Thomas said, offering the top chair. ‘And thus, it would be best if you did as I asked. Sit here.’
There was playfulness behind the order, which James appreciated. His brief talk, it seemed, had lightened Tom’s mood, although he still spoke like a butler. Putting down his notes, James sat as Jake slid the portfolio across the table. Silas came close, but Thomas carried on through to the kitchen s
aying he wouldn’t be long and they were to start without him.
Eager to see what was missing from the Vaine painting, James undid the folder and laid it flat.
‘They’re big,’ Silas said, impressed. ‘Are all photographs that size?’
‘I got them to print them as big as they could without going blurred,’ Jake enthused. ‘Any bigger and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing.’
‘Good thinking, Jake,’ James said. ‘Let’s see what we have.’
The first photograph was disappointing, being blurred and at an angle, and James glanced disapprovingly at Silas, who said, ‘Oi! It was my first time.’
The second was more defined. It showed the painting out of its frame standing on an easel. Silas had managed to take the whole canvas in one image, and the plinth was visible, but not, however, in detail. James could make out the hand of the older figure, and it was, as Silas had said, offering words and Roman numerals to the younger man.
The plinth was sharper in the third image, though the rest of the painting was out of the shot. Silas had come in close and had the focus almost correct. The numerals were legible, and they appeared as carved into the stonework.
‘”The ROOK, LXVI”,’ James read. ‘Does that mean anything to anyone?’
‘Not a thing.’
Turning to the next image, James found a representation of the plinth, though grainy, but the last image was better still and showed the painting in its entirety and in focus.
‘That’s the one,’ he said. ‘Good work, mate. We now know what was cut from the forgery. A kind of bird and some Roman numerals.’
‘Which mean what, exactly?’ Silas asked, leaning in to see clearly.
Artful Deception Page 14