‘Then he’s the exception. Harry needs persuasion for most things.’ Lydia sighed. ‘He prevaricated about joining the Labour Party for so long, I told him that if socialism was too far to jump, he should join the Liberals.’ She gave a sly wink. ‘I’m easing him into it.’
‘Talking of politics,’ Alice began, taking a sip of champagne. ‘I was thinking of joining the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies, I assume you both attend meetings?’ The look she gave Flora dared her to dissemble.
‘Not as often as I should,’ Flora admitted, sheepish. ‘But Lydia is a dedicated member and if anything important happens she’ll keep me informed.’ Aware this was yet another subject Lydia’s in-laws would count against her, Flora cast a nervous glance at where they had formed a tight circle near the front bay window, alert for any interlopers.
‘They can tut over me all they like,’ Lydia drained her sherry glass. ‘My activities are nothing compared to Harry becoming a Liberal.’
Alice choked on her drink and Flora slapped her back hard.
‘I’m a little disappointed in our society, truth be told,’ Lydia said when Alice had recovered. ‘Millicent Fawcett has been campaigning for over forty years, but with over forty percent of adult men in this country having no right to vote, no wonder the politicians feel women’s rights are a low priority. Perhaps we should concentrate on male suffrage first and let society evolve naturally to include women.’
‘It will take a war to do that, which isn’t something we should wish for.’ Flora regretted having broached such a subject, at a wedding of all things, but William’s talk of the situation in Russia had stayed with her. Maybe revolution wasn’t as far away as they hoped.
‘War aside, I agree things must change.’ Lydia placed her empty glass on a tray carried precariously by a passing server. ‘There’s such poverty in London and the child mortality rate is scandalous. Two out of three children born south of the river die before their first birthday. It’s a disgrace.’
Alice nodded sadly. ‘It’s something St Philomena’s has been fighting for years. Until something is done to ensure they have clean air, clean water, and children of ten don’t have to work ten hours a day in a factory, nothing will change.’
‘Harry’s concern for the plight of the less fortunate is what I most admire about him. A majority of his class simply don’t care.’ Lydia’s eyes shone with pride for her new husband, then darkened. ‘His ability to handle alcohol notwithstanding.’
Flora joined in with the resultant laughter, but her thoughts remained squarely on William. If only she could be sure he would stay out of harm’s way. For Alice’s sake now as well as her own. She drained her glass with a shaking hand, but barely tasted the excellent champagne.
Chapter 25
Extricating herself from a one-sided conversation with an elderly relative of Harry’s, Flora went in search of William. She found him in the walled courtyard, his hands in his pockets and a glass of wine balanced on a bench beside him. Pots, urns and metal buckets crammed with spring flowers crowded the flagstones of the tiny but immaculate yard where vines and early-flowering plants hid the red-brick walls.
‘You look quite lovely today, Flora.’ His gaze travelled from her feet to her hair, finally settling on her face. ‘Harry’s great-uncle appears to have put colour into your cheeks. I saw you talking to him just now.’ He aimed a brief nod at the room behind her.
‘Is that who he is? He waylaid me to expound an opinion on women’s role in the world. He thinks Harry should rein in Lydia like an unbroken filly now they are married. He regards the female sex as being too intellectually weak to be trained to do anything more taxing than count linens or mix cake batter.’
‘You have to make allowances. He was born before the old queen came to the throne, in the days when Chartists were transported.’
‘You might have stepped in and saved me.’ She gathered her skirt round her, prepared to take a seat on the bench.
‘Hold on a minute.’ William held her off with one hand, moving his glass to one side with the other and drew a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted off the slats.
‘Thank you.’ Flora sat. ‘Have you forgiven me for springing Alice on you the other night?’ She held up a finger in mock surprise. ‘Oh, that’s right, I didn’t. You’ve been seeing each other since last year.’
‘Ah,’ His lips drew back in an embarrassed grin. ‘Alice told you, did she? I’m sorry, but we weren’t sure how we would feel about it and neither of us wanted to get your hopes up. Things didn’t end well when we last saw one another.’
‘I’m no longer a child, and I’m delighted you and Alice have found a… connection again, but neither am I unrealistic. You haven’t seen each other for over twenty years, so I had to be prepared for a less than satisfactory ending.’
‘True, but there are some things in life which never leave you.’ A flash of sadness flitted across his features but was gone in an instant. ‘We took tea together at the Prince’s Skating Rink last week.’
‘You took me there once. During the Lange case. Do you remember?’
‘I do, which made taking Alice there in some ways symbolic. New beginnings and all that.’
‘Did she tell you why she ran away from Cleeve Abbey all those years ago?’
‘She did, and also how she discovered you last year during that child abduction case. She said she told you everything. Which must have been a shock for you, Flora.’
‘It was.’ She summoned a shaky smile. Having everything she had always believed about herself swept away was still hard to accept.
‘When she mentioned Lydia and Harry had invited her to their wedding, it made practical sense we should attend together.’
‘Practical,’ Flora sliced him a sideways look. ‘Is that how you choose to look at it?’
‘Maybe not.’ His eyes softened and he stared at his feet with a ghost of a smile.
‘Bunny will be horribly smug when he finds out. He told me not to meddle.’
‘I’m sure he’ll not dwell on it. Bunny never crows. Now, lovely as it is to chat with my daughter, I suspect you sought me out for a reason.’ William retrieved his glass and took a sip of champagne. ‘I suspect you want to ask me what I was doing at The Dahlia Hotel.’
‘Ah, you did see us?’ She twisted to face him, taking care not to pull the sheer fabric of her dress on any stray splinters. ‘I hoped we had been discreet.’
‘Hah! The pair of you shot out of there in such a hurry I could hardly miss it.’ His right eyebrow rose a fraction. ‘Do I make a good Russian?’
‘Passable, at least to anyone who doesn’t know you. I shouldn’t ask, especially if it compromises your work, but I assume it has something to do with the Congress?’
‘It does, but I fail to see your interest.’
‘Wouldn’t anyone be wary of a group of foreigners gathering in London? The newspapers blame Russian emigres for everything from unemployment to growing slums and the breakdown of society. Some scandal sheets claim those bomb-throwing anarchists you told me about exist on our own doorstep.’ She broke off as a group of guests entered the courtyard, their voices raised in enthusiastic chatter.
‘Inflammatory rubbish!’ William’s upper lip curled in disdain. ‘I agree the sweatshops and slums south of the river attract activists and propagandists, but they aren’t violent. They want what any reasonable working man wants. Enough food, education for their children and a roof over their heads they can afford. Most of them aren’t interested in deposing the government.’
‘And Vladimir Lenin? What does he want?’ At his sharp look, she added, ‘Bunny pointed him out to me.’ Since she had first heard of a foreign revolutionary on British soil, the concept had fascinated her.
‘You understand I can’t say too much.’ He gave the group of guests a swift look before continuing. ‘He’s a militant political activist determined to bring down the Tsarist regime. He’s here with his wife, Nadya, to discuss with membe
rs of their party how to formulate a strategy.’
‘Goodness, and I thought you would refuse to tell me anything at all. That sounds serious, even historic.’
‘It is, but hasn’t happened yet. The Okhrana sentenced Vladimir to prison for three years in Siberia, which is probably the equivalent of ten in an English prison. And that’s all I’m prepared to say about him.’
‘Who are these Okra –whatever it is – people?’
‘Okhrana. The Department for Protecting the Public Security and Order,’ William recited in a monotone. ‘The Russian Secret Police who monitor the activities of their revolutionaries abroad. Lenin is a serious threat to the Imperialists and he’s watched constantly.’
‘By the sounds of it they’re justified. Although any government organisation operating in secret strikes me as sinister.’ She shuddered.
‘I agree. Lenin sees their spies everywhere, for good reason. It wasn’t easy getting him to accept me into the party.’
‘How did you manage that?’ No one she knew was more sartorial or upper class than William.
‘Strangely enough, it was my expertise with printing presses.’
‘Printing presses?’ Flora frowned. ‘I had no idea you had any experience of those.’
‘I don’t, but I received some fast tuition before setting off for St Petersburg.’ He took another sip from his glass. ‘The party newspaper is being published here in London.’
‘Newspaper,’ Flora murmured, a memory returning. ‘What’s it called?’
‘Iskra, it’s taken from a poem, I believe. Something about The spark will kindle a flame. Lenin calls his elite group of comrades “The Spark” as well.’ He lifted his glass away from his mouth. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I’m just interested that’s all.’ A thrill of excitement ran through her. Could that have been the publication Inspector Maddox found in Leo Thompson’s luggage? Then there was Leo’s mention of a spark which Ed had repeated. Could Leo have been a member of the Russian Socialist party? ‘I assume the Russian government would prefer this newspaper didn’t exist?’
‘Definitely they do.’ William snorted. ‘They destroy the presses whenever they find them and anyone connected with them is imprisoned. Having them printed here keeps them out of Okhrana hands. It also makes it easier to supply our Government with copies.’
‘I see. Do you provide the Okhrana with copies as well?’
‘Not exactly.’ He glanced away quickly, mildly uncomfortable. ‘We’re more inclined to let them find out for themselves. It’s called diplomacy. With the way things are going in Russia, our Government must appear neutral in order to leave us free to negotiate with whichever regime prevails.’
‘Appear neutral? That’s so duplicitous. And suppose this Lenin person finds out you’re as English as crumpets? Someone you know might see you. I did.’
‘I’m being careful, I promise.’ He massaged her shoulder gently. ‘Now, why’re you asking me all these questions?’
‘Did you read about the body found in a train compartment at Paddington earlier this week?’ She hesitated, recalling Bunny’s warning not to mention Ed, but if she wanted William’s help she had no choice.
‘I did.’ He nodded slowly. ‘Stabbed, as I recall. The newspapers didn’t identify him.’
‘He had a copy of Iskra on him.’
William eased closer, his shoulder pressed against hers, forming a close circle of intimacy between them. ‘Are you saying this chap’s death might have something to do with the Party?’
‘Possibly, but I’m still tossing ideas about at the moment. Maybe Inspector Maddox has found out something more substantial to explain it?’
‘Good Lord, Maddox is conducting the investigation?’ At her nod, his expression darkened. ‘Hmm. I could do without the Inspector crashing through the hotel in his size tens making everyone panic. If he sees me, things might get a bit sticky, to say the least.’
‘Which is why I thought you should know.’
‘I appreciate it. So, tell me, how are you involved with a dead body at Paddington? This isn’t one of your amateur investigations, is it?’
‘My amateur investigations usually turn out very well. But no, this one is a little different.’ She hesitated, debating how much to reveal. ‘The young man discovered bent over the body when it was found is the police’s main suspect.’
‘Sounds like a reasonable assumption to me, but if Maddox is handling the case why not leave it to him?’
‘Because…’ Flora hesitated. ‘I suppose you’ll find out before long. The young man is Edward.’
‘My sister Letitia’s Edward?’ William almost choked on his drink. ‘How is that possible?’
‘Shush.’ She flapped her hands to quieten him. ‘It’s complicated, but I assure you he didn’t do it.’
‘I should think not!’ He pushed a hand into his hair, creating narrow partings in the carefully applied pomade. ‘And Ed is implicated? I cannot believe it. The poor chap must be scared rigid. How’s he holding up?’
‘Frightened, frustrated.’ She had no intention of mentioning the fact he had almost sabotaged his own story. ‘Inspector Maddox has been quite amenable so far. Ed’s allowed to stay with us at Eaton Place until further enquiries are made. But if no new evidence comes to light in the next couple of days, he’ll have no choice but to arrest him.’
‘My God, poor Edward.’ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘I gather you and Bunny have taken it upon yourself to find out who the murderer is?’
‘Did you think we wouldn’t?’
‘No.’ His eyes softened. ‘And I’m sure my sister will appreciate any efforts you make. I appreciate it. But what led you to The Dahlia?’
‘Before he – died – this man told Ed he was going there, although the staff at the hotel claim they weren’t expecting him.’
‘I see. Doesn’t sound as if you have much to go on.’
‘We don’t. But your mentioning this Iskra makes me think the victim might have had something to do with this conference you’re involved with. He had a copy of Iskra in his luggage and was planning to stay at The Dahlia Or rather he is staying there.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t follow.’
‘It’s complicated, but if I could establish a connection between this man and the conference, I might get somewhere. Could you find out for me if he was on the delegate list?’
‘The chap who was on the train?’ At her nod, he added, ‘Of course, if it helps prove Ed is innocent. What was his name?’
‘Leo, Leo Thompson.’
‘Thompson!’ William’s eyes widened. He started to say something else but broke off, his face splitting into a wide smile as Alice glided towards them.
‘There you are! I might have guessed I would find you two together. The bride and groom are preparing to leave. You must both come and say goodbye.’
Chapter 26
Flora joined the crowd of wedding guests who spilled into the street like colourful butterflies who crowded round Harry’s motor car to bid the happy couple an enthusiastic farewell. Someone had arranged for a local chimney sweep to shake the groom’s hand and offer a token, and kiss the bride to guarantee the couple’s future prosperity. Neighbours smiled from their doorways, while children gathered up dropped rose petals and scrambled for the handful of coins Harry had thrown through the motor car window as they pulled away.
Declining William’s offer of a ride back to their house, they chose to take the short walk back to Eaton Place. The evening air was cool but not uncomfortable as dusk fell slowly in a mackerel sky to the sound of birdsong in Belgrave Square. Flora loved the city at this time of year, when the damp oppressive fog was long forgotten and blossoms appeared in the garden squares, peppering the verges with tiny pink and white petals.
‘You were right about William,’ She said, linking her arm with Bunny’s and leaning into him, her head against his shoulder. ‘He is working at the Russian Socialist Labour Party conference.
&
nbsp; ‘I guessed as much. I must say he blended in well, especially when some weeks before he had dined in Imperial palaces.’
‘He speaks good Russian too. Did you know the word Iskra means “Spark”, which is also the name of—’
‘The Russian Socialist Party Newspaper,’ he finished for her.
‘You already knew?’ She glanced up at him, frowning.
‘You aren’t the only one good at this detecting stuff. After seeing William at The Dahlia the other day, I asked a few questions at my club and picked up quite a bit of interesting gossip about the Russian Labour Party. Iskra was probably what Maddox told us Thompson had in his suitcase, or why would he ask us about it?’
She was about to accuse him of keeping as many secrets as Ed, then remembered she too had done her own share of working behind the scenes. ‘You remember I was going to write to Mrs Tilney?’
‘Sylvia Thompson’s friend?’ Bunny halted to let a cat streak across their path into a nearby garden, followed by a scuffling in the hedge. ‘The one Amy Coombe told us about?’
She nodded. ‘I received a reply today, which I meant to tell you about earlier but we were distracted. Anyway, she didn’t have much to tell me, other than Leo spent a good deal of time in London and Sylvia disapproved of his politics.’
They had reached the house, where Bunny opened the front gate which brushed against a lilac bush, releasing the evening perfume into the air.
‘Which indicates he could very well have planned to attend the congress.’ He stepped aside to let Flora through first onto the multi-coloured mosaic pathway. ‘Maybe he was already a party member?’
‘Good evening, sir, madam.’ Stokes bowed them into the entrance hall where he divested them of their coats. ‘You have a visitor, sir.’
‘Really Stokes, at this hour? Bunny frowned as he adjusted his spectacles. ‘Who is it?’
Ed must have been awaiting their arrival as the sound of footsteps brought Flora’s head up to where he clattered down the stairs.
‘It’s Inspector Maddox’ he said, slightly breathless. ‘He’s been here half an hour. I thought it best to wait until you got home before speaking to him.’
The Bloomsbury Affair Page 22