The Mystery Woman

by Amanda Quick

  “This is an old smuggler’s cave,” Joshua said. He took the lantern and held it aloft to examine the dock. “The bastard had a boat waiting here. The question is, did he come alone or did he bring someone else along to handle the oars? It is not impossible that a skilled assassin from London would also be a competent oarsman who happens to be familiar with this coastline, but it seems unlikely.”

  “If we go down to the dock, I might be able to answer the question,” Beatrice said.

  She felt a little steadier now that they were no longer within the close confines of the passage. The salt air and the movement of the water helped dispel some of the oppressive atmosphere.

  Joshua looked at her with a considering expression. For a short time she thought he would refuse her offer. But after a second or two he simply nodded once and started down the short flight of steps to the dock.

  When he reached the bottom he stopped, turned and held his hand out to assist her. “Careful,” he said. “The steps are wet and slippery.”

  In spite of the situation the small act of gallantry charmed her. Their relationship thus far seemed to lurch back and forth from a state of prickly suspicion to a wary partnership. She knew that the heated kiss last night had been an aberration, a brief interlude that had surprised both of them. She wondered if Joshua would allow himself to be distracted by fanciful thoughts again.

  For a second she hesitated to take his hand, afraid that if she slipped on the wet steps she might pull him down, too. He had, after all, only his cane to help him maintain his own balance. Then she remembered how he had come to her through the noxious incense last night and carried her to safety.

  She gave him her hand. His fingers closed like a manacle around hers. She knew then that he had sensed her slight hesitation.

  “I won’t let you fall,” he said grimly.

  She stifled a sigh. They were back to the prickly phase of their association.

  “I know,” she said.

  At the bottom of the steps, she tugged her hand free and tried to affect a brisk, businesslike air. She heightened her senses and looked at the hot tendrils of energy that writhed in the prints. In addition to the killer’s footsteps she saw another set.

  “Two people were here,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  Joshua’s swift agreement made her turn to look at him. He had walked partway out along the old dock and was leaning down to examine a small, narrow object.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A cigarette.” Joshua straightened. “The oarsman smoked while he waited for the assassin to return.”

  “The oarsman must have been a local. No one else would be likely to know the location of this old smuggler’s lair.”

  “It would not be difficult to hire an able-bodied man with knowledge of the shoreline,” Joshua said. “We are on the coast. I’m sure every man and boy in the area can handle a boat and knows the local terrain. The problem lies in ensuring that the oarsman keeps his mouth shut. News of the murder at Alverstoke Hall will be all over the village by now. Sooner or later it will come out that someone from the village was hired to row a stranger to the old smuggler’s cave near the hall on the night of the murder.”

  She caught her breath. “We must find the oarsman.”

  “I doubt that will be much of a problem,” Joshua said. “Dead bodies have a way of washing ashore.”

  Twenty-Seven

  The old smuggler’s passage?” Lord Alverstoke’s bushy brows and sideburns twitched in a scowl. “I’d forgotten all about that tunnel to the cove. It was originally constructed as an escape route in the event of a siege. Later it was used for contraband. But that was years ago.”

  “Who else knows about the tunnel besides yourself, sir?” Joshua asked.

  He was having a hard time keeping his attention focused on Alverstoke. He kept glancing at the clock. Beatrice was upstairs with Hannah and the maid, finishing the preparations for the journey back to London. Logically he knew she was safe enough for the moment but he did not like letting her out of his sight.

  “Well, as to who might know about the passage, that’s hard to say.” Alverstoke snorted. “Many of the servants have been with me for decades. I expect they are all aware of it. Not as if it’s a secret, you know. The house is riddled with passages and stairwells that are no longer used.”

  “I understand. But can you think of anyone in particular—a visitor, perhaps—who took an interest in the tunnel and its history?”

  Questioning Alverstoke was probably pointless, Joshua thought. It was clear the old man knew nothing about the murder. He did not even know how Hannah had gotten on his guest list for the house party. Leave that sort of thing to my secretary.

  There was no time to talk to every member of the household staff, Joshua decided. Right now his first priority was to get Beatrice out of reach of the assassin. Nevertheless, it would be extremely helpful to discover how the killer had obtained such a thoroughgoing knowledge of the mansion and the secret entrance to the antiquities chamber.

  “Afraid not,” Alverstoke said, very firm this time. “Can’t think of anyone who showed an interest in that old smuggler’s tunnel.”

  “What about antiquities experts? Have you invited any colleagues or other collectors to visit for an extended period? Long enough to have discovered the tunnel by accident, perhaps?”

  “I’ve certainly allowed other experts to examine my collection from time to time but they never stayed here for more than a day or two and I always accompanied them when they viewed the objects in the great hall.” Alverstoke pursed his lips. “Except for that lovely young lady who asked to study the artifacts so that she could write a paper for one of the journals. But that was over a year ago. I can’t see how her visit could be linked to the murder last night.”

  A chill of knowing swept through Joshua. “You allowed a woman to study your antiquities?”

  “I know what you’re thinking.” Alverstoke chuckled. “One doesn’t expect a female to possess a sound knowledge of antiquities. But this lady was the exception. She was astonishingly well informed. She had actually done some fieldwork in Egypt.”

  “Sir, this is very important. How did this female antiquities expert contact you?”

  “She wrote to me requesting permission to study the artifacts. Signed the letter as E. Baycliff. I assumed she was a man, of course. When she arrived on my doorstep I was shocked to see that she was a female.”

  “But you invited her to stay?”

  “I was going to send her away but she pleaded with me to show her some of the antiquities before she took the train back to London.” Alverstoke winked. “Very attractive young woman. So intelligent and quite charming. I saw no harm in taking her on a tour of the great hall. In the end I relented and agreed to let her study some of the artifacts.”

  “How long did she remain here at Alverstoke Hall?”

  “Not long. A few days. She was called back to London before she could finish her research. Something about a death in the family, I believe.”

  “Did she ask to view your catalog?”

  “Yes, of course,” Alverstoke said.

  “Did she express any special interest in any items in particular in your collection?”

  “As I recall, she was very keen to view two rather odd obsidian jewels. Not terribly important antiquities, really. We both agreed they had no doubt once been the eyes of a statue. Someone had removed them at some point, most likely to sell them.”

  “She found the damned eyes,” Joshua said. But he was speaking to himself, mentally rearranging pieces on an invisible chessboard in his head. “That explains a great deal.”

  Alverstoke scowled. “I say, what’s this about eyes?”

  “I think I can save you some time with your inventory,” Joshua said. “Start with those two obsidian jewels. You will discover that th
ey have gone missing. They disappeared a little over a year ago, in fact. About the time that the woman who called herself E. Baycliff got that telegram informing her of a death in the family.”

  “You believe Miss Baycliff stole them? Nonsense. She was a lovely young woman, I tell you. Very charming.”

  “Yes,” Joshua said, remembering. “Beautiful, charming and an expert in antiquities.”

  “Even allowing for the outrageous possibility that she was a thief, why would she take such unimportant relics? Those stones are not particularly valuable.”

  “If I’m right, those jewels were the Eyes of Anubis.”

  “What of it? A large number of Anubis figures have been discovered. I’ve got several in my own collection. Why would Miss Baycliff want the eyes of a particular statue?”

  “To raise the dead.”

  Twenty-Eight

  I don’t understand, Josh,” Hannah said. “Why are you and Beatrice leaving the train here in Upper Dixton? We won’t reach London for another hour and a half. This is nothing more than a small village.”

  Beatrice looked out the rain-streaked windows as the train pulled into the small station. There were only three people waiting on the platform. They were all huddled under umbrellas. The rain was unrelenting. It was late afternoon but the storm had brought on an early twilight.

  The news that the body of one of the local fishermen had been discovered on the beach had reached Alverstoke Hall just as she and the others were preparing to leave for the railway station. Lord Alverstoke and almost everyone else had been shocked by word of another mysterious death in the vicinity coming, as it did, on the heels of the murder in the antiquities chamber.

  Joshua was the only one who had not exhibited surprise. “He got rid of the oarsman” had been his only comment. It was clear that he had been expecting the news.

  “Miss Lockwood and I are stopping here because I am convinced that there is a high probability that we are being followed,” Joshua said to Hannah.

  He was on his feet, pulling his black bag down from the luggage rack. Beatrice waited in the aisle outside the private compartment, her large satchel gripped in one hand, an umbrella in the other. Joshua had informed her that they could not afford to be burdened by her traveling trunk.

  She had been as surprised as Hannah and Sally by Joshua’s sudden announcement a few minutes earlier. He had not informed them of his plan to depart the train in Upper Dixton until shortly before they arrived. She wondered if he had made his plans before they even boarded at the Alverstoke railway station forty-five minutes ago. Really, the man needed lessons in communication.

  But she concluded that this was not the time to lecture him on the subject. The icy intensity that swirled around Joshua had set her own nerves on edge. She knew that he believed that she was in danger. He was no doubt convinced that his conclusion was founded on cold logic and his knowledge of his opponent. But she suspected it was his intuition, not sound reasoning, that was riding him so hard. Either way it all came to the same end. If Joshua feared that someone was planning to snatch her at the first opportunity, it was best to assume that he was right.

  “I beg your pardon, sir,” Sally said. “But how does a person follow a train?”

  “Think about it from the follower’s point of view,” Joshua said. “If someone watched us buy tickets for London, as I suspect, that individual will be convinced that he knows our destination. He will lower his guard and tell himself that he can simply pick up the trail at the other end—in London.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean, sir,” Sally said. “What a chilling thought.”

  “I sent a telegram to Nelson before we boarded,” Joshua said. “He will meet you at the station in London. He has instructions to watch for any indication that someone suspicious is waiting there or if a suspicious person alights from the train.”

  Alarm sparked in Hannah’s eyes. “Do you suppose the watcher is even now on this very same train?”

  “It’s possible,” Joshua said. “Which is why Beatrice and I will wait on board until the last possible moment. If he does attempt to get off at that point to follow us, he will expose himself immediately. It will be easy enough to spot him in this small railway station.”

  “He will know that,” Beatrice pointed out. “This is a very tiny village, as Hannah said. Very few people will get off here. Strangers in town are bound to stand out.”

  “Precisely,” Joshua said. “In his shoes, I would stay on board until the next stop and then try to work my way back to Upper Dixton by private cab. By then, we will be gone.”

  “Where are you going?” Hannah asked.

  “We will hire a cab to take us to the next village, and from there we will go on to London.” Joshua smiled his cold smile. “It will be interesting to see if we pass him on the road.”

  “It all sounds very complicated,” Hannah said uneasily.

  “The trick to losing a watcher is to put yourself in the one place he cannot watch,” Joshua said. “His blind spot is always behind him.”

  Beatrice raised her brows. “Is that another quote from Mr. Smith?”

  “Sorry, I’m afraid so,” Joshua said.

  Hannah’s mouth tightened in grim disapproval. “That dreadful Victor Hazelton.”

  “I am aware of your opinion of the man,” Joshua said. He looked at Beatrice. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He gripped his cane and started to move out of the compartment. Hannah put a hand on his arm to stop him. Her eyes were very serious.

  “You do realize what you are doing by leaving this train alone with Beatrice,” she said in low tones. “I am aware that you are taking measures to ensure her safety, however—”

  “Do not concern yourself, Hannah.” His voice was equally soft. “I know what I am about.”

  Hannah looked at him a few seconds longer and then glanced once more at Beatrice. Evidently satisfied, she sat back against the cushions.

  “Be careful, both of you,” she said. “We will be waiting in London.”

  Beatrice got the feeling that she had just missed something in the conversation, but there was no time to analyze the situation. Joshua was urging her to move quickly along the narrow corridor. He followed her to the door.

  “Now,” he said.

  She descended the steps just as the conductor turned to put them up and jump aboard. He regarded her and Joshua with surprise.

  “I beg your pardon, ma’am, sir, but this isn’t your stop,” he said. “You’re for London.”

  Beatrice summoned up a reassuring smile and raised her umbrella against the rain. “Change of plans, I’m afraid.”

  “But your luggage, ma’am.”

  Joshua put on his hat and came down the steps. “Arrangements have been made to collect the rest of our bags in London. My wife and I have decided to do some sightseeing here in Upper Dixton.”

  The words my wife sent a small shockwave through Beatrice. By the time she had collected herself she and Joshua were on the platform, the conductor was on board, the door was closed and the train was pulling out of the station.

  Beatrice turned to Joshua in disbelief, alarm stirring as it dawned on her just what that last exchange between Joshua and Hannah might have been about. None of her previous clients had ever been concerned about her reputation. She was a private inquiry agent, after all, not a high-ranking lady. The goal was to get her out of the house as soon as the investigation was completed.

  But Joshua was not paying any attention to her. He was watching the doors of the railway carriages, waiting to see if anyone else elected to get off at the last possible moment.

  Steam hissed. The train gathered speed. It rumbled out of the station and disappeared into the heavy mist.

  “It appears that the watcher, if there is one, remained on board,” Beatrice ventured.


  “So it seems,” Joshua said. He looked at the lone cab waiting in the street. The driver was hunched under a heavily caped coat and low-crowned hat. The horse stood stoically, one hoof cocked, head lowered against the steady downpour. “With luck this cab will take us to the next village.”

  The driver looked down from the box. “Can I help ye, sir?”

  “The motion of the train was making my wife ill so we wish to travel to the next town by cab.”

  “Sorry, sir, afraid that’s not possible.” The driver sounded genuinely regretful. “The roads are rivers of mud. No one’s leaving Upper Dixton by cab until this rain stops. Next train is tomorrow morning.”

  “In that case, we’ll need an inn for the night,” Joshua said. “Can you suggest one?”

  “There’s two in town, sir. I recommend the Blue Fox. It’s clean. Decent food.”

  “The Blue Fox it is.”

  Joshua opened the cab door and tossed both bags inside. Then he ushered Beatrice up the steps. She folded her umbrella and went through the small door. Joshua followed and sat down across from her. The cab rolled forward down the village’s only street.

  Joshua looked at Beatrice.

  “I’m sorry about this,” he said brusquely. “I should have anticipated the possibility that the weather would interfere with my plans.”

  “As a professional investigator myself, I am well aware that one cannot plan for every contingency.”

  She was astonished by her own calm demeanor. But then, she was a professional, she reminded herself.

  Joshua exhaled slowly and looked out the window. “You do realize that this means we will have to share a room tonight.”

  “The inn might have two rooms available,” she ventured.