Chapter 3
Twenty minutes later, Jane left the library with Lance at her heels. She stopped for a moment at the edge of the pavement, glanced quickly from right to left, then entered a hackney that had just let down its passengers. The dog jumped in after her. A moment later, the hackney was bowling along the Strand, going west toward Pall Mall.
Soon after, another hackney pulled out from a side street and made the turn onto the main thoroughfare, following Jane’s hackney. It had two occupants, Case and Sergeant Harper of Special Branch.
Although Harper was one of London’s most celebrated citizens, having helped solve a number of sensational cases in his work at Special Branch, no one would have known it to look at him. He was in his early forties, stocky, with a crop of grizzled hair. His garments were well made and conservative, but he wore them so casually that he looked untidy.
Despite the difference in their backgrounds, there was an easy camaraderie between Case and Harper. In fact, they had much in common. They’d both served throughout the Spanish Campaign and, more recently, had worked closely together to uncover a conspiracy that had almost destroyed Case’s brother-in-law, Col. Richard Maitland. Now they were working on another case—the murder in Hyde Park.
The faintest of smiles touched Case’s lips. “I thought she might go in person to warn her friend that I wanted to speak to her. It makes things easier for us. All we have to do is follow the dog.”
When there was no response from Harper, Case turned his head and looked at Harper’s unhandsome face, baked dry by years of soldiering under the hot Spanish sun. “Why the scowl?” he asked.
Harper shrugged. “It don’t seem right,” he said, “spying on ladies who probably don’t have it in them to hurt a fly. Why, they’re the best that England has to offer. They’re honest and decent and I don’t like deceiving them.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then why didn’t we wait till four o’clock for Mrs. Gray’s answer?”
“What if Mrs. Gray refuses to see me? What if she’s trying to protect her brother? No, Harper. This is the only way.”
Harper merely grunted.
After a moment, Case said, “Why would a lady keep a beast like that in town?”
“You mean the dog?”
Case nodded.
“I dunno. You knows more about ladies than I do.”
“Hazard a guess, just to humor me.”
“Well,” Harper scratched his chin, “could be the dog is an affectation, you know. something to make a fashionable lady stand out from the crowd.”
“But Jane Mayberry isn’t a fashionable lady. And she wouldn’t thank you for that description. She’s a bluestocking. Women who pride themselves on their intelligence aren’t interested in cutting a dash in society.”
Harper considered. “Well,” he said, “maybe she loves that dog and can’t bear to be parted from it.”
“I wonder.”
“What?” demanded Harper when the silence lengthened.
“Mmm? Oh, I think she keeps the dog for protection.”
“Protection from what?”
“I don’t know. But there’s something secretive about Jane Mayberry.”
“Secretive?”
“Mysterious, not transparent. You know what I mean.”
“She’s just a young woman with a dog!”
“You’re probably right.”
“That’s the trouble with our business. It makes you suspicious of everyone. And when you’re not suspicious, that’s when the trouble starts.”
“Harper, don’t break your heart over it. She’s probably everything you think she is.”
“I hope so. I sincerely hope so, because the man we are after is rotten to the depths of his stinking soul. I wouldn’t want Miss Mayberry to end up like John Collier.”
John Collier was the name of the man who had been murdered in Hyde Park. That much Bow Street had discovered before handing the case over to Special Branch: John Collier, former soldier, now a solicitor’s clerk, fortyish and as clean as a whistle as far as they could tell.
It had taken the magistrates a month of dithering before they called in Special Branch. It had taken the chief of staff five minutes to decide that his own brother-in-law was the best man to handle the investigation. Case had a vested interest in finding a killer whose signature was a smooth-faced pebble left on or near his victims.
That pebble might as well have been a letter as far as Case was concerned. What it told him was that a man he believed was dead, a man he
hoped
was dead, might well have embarked on another cycle of murder and mayhem.
Gideon Piers.
The very name was enough to fill Case with a cold, relentless resolve. Corp. Gideon Piers, deserter turned bandit, had cut a swath of terror throughout the Spanish countryside with his band of desperadoes.
La Roca,
the Rock, the Spanish called him because he left a smooth-faced pebble in his victims’ pockets, just so that everyone would know how he dealt with anyone who tried to cross him.
He went too far, however, when he began to attack British convoys and steal British gold. He was no longer an annoying bandit on the fringes of the war, but a major disruption that had to be stopped. Case was given the task of recovering the gold, if possible, but above all, of wiping Piers and his bandits off the face of the earth. No quarter asked or given—those were his orders.
With a unit of hand-picked men and a group of partisans, they tracked Piers and his brigands to their hideout, an abandoned monastery in the hills near Brugos. And that’s where they’d perished, every last one of them, or so he’d hoped.
It took a moment or two before Case realized that Harper was speaking to him, and another moment after that for the haze in his mind to clear. He pressed a hand to his eyes. “I’m sorry, Harper. My thoughts were elsewhere. What did you say?”
Harper spoke slowly. “I asked if you wanted me there when you question Mrs. Gray.”
“No. Two of us might be one too many, and I don’t want her to feel threatened. Keep an eye on the house, and stay out of sight.”
Harper nodded. “And what was you thinking when that look came over you?”
Case gave a short, muffled laugh. Tact was not one of Harper’s outstanding virtues. The trouble was, he’d allowed him too many liberties. If they got any cozier, they’d be the best of friends, then there’d be no holding him back.
Case said, “It’s been a month since Collier was murdered. What is Piers waiting for?”
“Maybe he’s come and gone. Maybe Collier was the only one he was after. And maybe we’re looking for the wrong man. Piers could be dead, you know, and somebody could be copying his methods.”
Case was silent. He’d heard these arguments before. But if Piers was alive, there was no doubt in his mind who his ultimate target would be and that was himself. This wasn’t the time for complacency.
All the same, he was left with the same perplexing question. What was Piers waiting for? Why the delay in coming after him?
Jane paid off the hackney outside St. Ninian’s church in Hans Town. A light drizzle was falling so she turned up her coat collar to cover the back of her bonnet and entered the churchyard. The vicarage was on the other side of the church, through the side gate and up a steep paved path.
It was an old house, its stone walls embraced by the barren vines of winter ivy. A lamp had been lit in one of the front rooms and the sound of children’s laughter brought a bittersweet smile to Jane’s lips. Some women were lucky in love, others were not so fortunate. Letty was one of the lucky ones. She’d married a gem of a man and had two darling, mischievous children.
And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Letty. Before that train of thought could lead her down a treacherous path, Jane squared her shoulders and rapped smartly with the knocker. A moment or two later the door was opened by Letty’s maid-of-all-work. A young vicar with a family to support couldn’t afford more than one servant.
Peggy, young, capable, and ever ready with a smile, ushered Jane into the hall. “And you brought Lance! The children will be pleased.”
“Where is Mrs. Gray?” asked Jane, as Peggy took her coat and bonnet.
“In the kitchen.”
“And Mr. Gray?”
“Gone to Lambeth to see the bishop.”
After this exchange, confusion reigned. Two small girls, identical twins, came tearing out of the front room and launched themselves at Jane. “Aunt Jane!” they cried. “Aunt Jane.” Then they saw Lance and Aunt Jane was forgotten. Their mother emerged from the kitchen.
“Jane! This
is
a surprise.”
Letty Gray was a little older than Jane, tall and slender, with thick dark hair and clear, aqua eyes. Though a few strands of hair escaped their pins and there was a smudge of flour on one cheek, she appeared, on the surface, to be completely self-possessed. Orphans, in Jane’s experience, often gave this impression. They’d been raised in institutions and had learned to keep their thoughts to themselves. Jane considered herself truly privileged to have won the friendship of this generous-hearted young woman and sometimes wished she could be more like her.
As quickly as the confusion arose, it subsided. Letty suggested that Peggy and the children dress up warmly and take Lance for a walk. After they left, she led Jane into the front parlor and closed the door.
“Flour, on your cheek,” said Jane, pointing.
Letty brushed it off. “I thought we wouldn’t be seeing you till after Christmas. What made you change your plans?”
They took the chairs closest to the fire. “What’s happened is that Lord Castleton came to see me today, but it was you he wanted to talk to.”
“Lord Castleton! Talk to me? About what?”
“He gave me a letter—” Jane cut off what she was about to say when the front door knocker rattled alarmingly.
“Oliver must have forgotten his key again,” said Letty, and she went to answer the door.
Jane got up. She heard muted voices in the hallway, then Letty entered followed by Lord Castleton. Her lips tightened. She’d known he was tenacious, but she hadn’t expected this.
“Speak of the devil!” she said, her words tossed out like a gauntlet.
“Ah, Miss Mayberry,” replied Case easily, “sans wolf, and as charming as ever.”
“Jane,” said Letty, looking curiously from one to the other, “Lord Castleton is with Special Branch. He wants to ask me a few questions about Gideon, that’s all.”
“Special Branch?” Jane stared. “You’re an officer of the law?”
“I’ve been invited to help Special Branch with a particular investigation, so I suppose I
am
an officer of the law.”
“You didn’t mention that to me.”
“My business wasn’t with you, Miss Mayberry, so I wasn’t obliged to tell you anything. Mrs. Gray, is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
“Well . . .” Letty looked uncertainly at Jane.
Jane said, “I wouldn’t dream of allowing you to question Mrs. Gray without a witness present.”
“I would like Jane to remain.”
Case sighed. “Then shall we sit down? This shouldn’t take long.”
When they were all seated, he kept his eyes on Letty, effectively excluding Jane from the conversation. “We think you can help us in our inquiries, Mrs. Gray. I’m sorry I can’t go into details. You may think some of my questions are odd or irrelevant. Just answer them as frankly as you can. Will you do that for me?”
When Letty nodded, he continued, “When did you last see your brother?”
“You’re investigating Gideon?”
“We’re investigating someone we think may have been close to him at one time, someone who served with him in Spain.”
“Oh.” She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, she cleared her throat and said, “The last time I saw Gideon was before he sailed for Portugal, oh, eight years ago, when he came to say good-bye.”
As the interview progressed, Jane’s doubts about the veracity of the earl’s claims vanished. She could see why he would be considered an asset in an investigation. He didn’t fire off questions or badger Letty; he charmed her into giving him all the information he wanted. It was all so effortless—effortless and unscrupulous.
The facts were few. Letty and Gideon had seen very little of each other after they were orphaned, and if Gideon had any friends, Letty had no idea who they could be. He was older than she so, of course, he’d never confided in her. They’d seen each other from time to time after he left the poorhouse, and when he’d enlisted, she’d written to him, but his replies were few and far between and, of course, she’d stopped writing when his commanding officer wrote to inform her that Gideon was missing in action and presumed dead.
But Lord Castleton wormed other things out of Letty—how Gideon was forever getting into scrapes, how the only time he came to see her was when he wanted money, and how she’d hoped, prayed, when Gideon enlisted, that the army would be the making of him.
When there was a silence, Case turned to Jane. “Miss Mayberry, can you add anything to what Mrs. Gray has told me?”
“No.”
Letty covered Jane’s rudeness by quickly adding, “Jane never met Gideon. She didn’t become a teacher at St. Bede’s until after he went to Spain.”
“And that’s when you and Miss Mayberry became friends? When you were both teaching at St. Bede’s?”
Letty smiled. “Yes, I was heartbroken when—”
Jane quickly cut her off. “Lord Castleton isn’t interested in hearing about me. Not unless I’m under investigation, too.”
“No,” said Case. “Just idle interest on my part.” He felt in his coat pocket and drew out the pebble that was found on John Collier. “Does this mean anything to you, Mrs. Gray?”
Letty took the pebble and turned it over. “No. Should it?”
“What about the name La Roca?”
Letty shook her head and gave him back the pebble.
“That’s Spanish for rock, isn’t it?” asked Jane.
“It is. What about John Collier? Does that name mean anything to you, Mrs. Gray?”
Again, Letty shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Think carefully. Lt. John Collier. He served with your brother in Spain. They were in the same regiment.”
Letty looked down at her clasped hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. It was all so long ago.”
Case got up. “If anything occurs to you, Mrs. Gray, you can always leave a message for me at the Horse Guards.”