Beatrice (24 page)

“Do you
think that the incidents with the carriage might be related to the
body in the garden?” He hated to suggest it and point the finger of
suspicion for the murder on someone who could, quite conceivably,
be innocent, but he just had to know just how dangerous Caroline
Smethwick could be.

“It’s a
possibility we cannot rule out right now. We know that Caroline
doesn’t have a job, and is a relatively free person without
commitments. She has the time, and is familiar with driving the
carriage around the lanes by herself at night,” Mark sighed and
looked at both Beatrice and Ben frankly. “She tried to run Harriett
over not long after Miss Haversham’s death. She told us that she
wanted to warn Harriett that danger surrounded her.” His eyes met
and held Beatrice’s for a moment. “Now though, I cannot help but
wonder if it is something she likes to do.”

“Do you
think she is unhinged?” Her stomach began to churn at the
possibility that she had made friends with a cold and ruthless
killer. Not only that, but she had been alone with the said killer
on a number of occasions. The thought of just how vulnerable she
had left herself made her feel a little numb.

“I don’t
know, and I don’t want to say too much in case she is innocent.
However, until we get answers, don’t take any risks. Don’t go out
again today. I am going to be here now, and hope that she does turn
up tonight. She is arrogant, I know that much, and could quite
conceivably attempt to bluff her way in. However, knitting needles
are dangerous, so don’t underestimate her. I certainly won’t allow
her to spend any part of the evening with you. As soon as she
arrives, I am going to put her under arrest and get her out of
here. At worst, she will be innocent and spitting mad at being
dragged off to the station. However, given there has been another
murder in the village; and her old carriage has been involved in
several attempts to harm you; then I think she will be left with no
choice but to understand.”

Beatrice
nodded. Anyone who was aware of what had happened would understand
why they had been taken in for questioning. Of course they would be
angry but, if innocent, they would have no qualms about
co-operating with a police investigation.

“I am
going to be here,” Ben announced firmly. “I have no intention of
letting that woman past the hallway.”

Mark
nodded. “Together we can subdue her. I will put irons on her if I
have to. We will get her out of this house quickly,
Beatrice.”

Beatrice
nodded and shivered at the thought of the evening that lay
ahead.

However,
Ben’s thoughts turned in a completely different
direction.

“Is
there any news on Hargraves?”

Mark
shook his head and stared hard at Ben. He didn’t want to tell them
right now because Beatrice looked as fragile as that flower she had
received. However, he owed it to them both to make sure they didn’t
consider Caroline Smethwick’s arrest to be the end of the dangers
that surrounded them.

“He has
vanished without a trace, I am afraid to say,” he announced
reluctantly.

“God in
heaven,” Beatrice whispered. “Everyone seems to be
disappearing.”

“What
were you doing at Jules Sanders’ house?” Mark suddenly demanded,
and pierced Beatrice with a look that warned her that he would
accept nothing less than the absolute truth.

She
shared a look with Ben and sighed. “We went to the university to
see if we could find out about this plant. Since it appeared on my
doorstep, so many horrible things have happened that I just want
the wretched thing away from me. I don’t even know if I am supposed
to be the one to keep it because I have no idea why it was left
with me. I just want it off my hands, preferably before anyone –
namely me – gets hurt. If we could get to the bottom of who
cultivated it and why, I can give it to its rightful owner and
forget all about it. Hargraves and his employer can then go and
pester them for it. If it is rightly mine, I am going to donate it
to the university just to get the horrible, horrible thing out of
the house.” She shivered and drew her arms around her middle in a
protective gesture that told everyone just how vulnerable she
really felt. “We went to the university and got one of the scholars
there, Archibald Harrington, to transcribe the notes for us. He
told us that Jules Sanders had cultivated it, so we went to his
house to ask him why the plant had been sent to me. I was going to
ask him if he wanted it back. Unfortunately, when we got there, he
-” She broke off and shook her head.

Ben
briefly detailed the rest of their meeting with Archibald
Harrington, and frowned when Mark and Isaac shared a steady
look.

“What?”

He
nudged Beatrice and felt her look up.

“Archibald Harrington died a month ago.”

Beatrice
felt her stomach drop to her toes. At first, his words didn’t
register with her. When they did, she turned to stare blankly at
Ben for a moment before she leaned forward in her seat.

“Pardon?”

“Archibald Harrington died a month ago, Beatrice.”

“How?”
This time it was Ben who leaned forward in his seat. “What
from?”

“He was
found dead in his garden. The doctor said it was a heart
attack.”

“Are you
sure?” Beatrice was still struggling with the knowledge that
Archibald Harrington was dead.

“But we
saw him at the university,” Ben protested with a scowl. “We had a
meeting with a man who said he was Archibald
Harrington.”

“I hope
not,” Isaac retorted with a snort. “Otherwise the university has
more problems than they bargained for.”

“Who did
we speak to then?” Beatrice whispered. She thought about Mark’s
comment that Caroline Smethwick liked to dress up, but then
immediately dismissed that notion as utterly ridiculous. Not even
Caroline Smethwick was a sufficiently good actress to be able to
pass herself off as a man.

“What
did he look like?” Isaac asked and drew his notebook out of his
pocket along with a pencil. He licked the nib and sat for a moment
with it poised over the small block of paper as he waited for Ben
to recount the details. “That’s Richard Browning,” he announced
with a frown.

Once
again, Beatrice looked askance at Ben, and he realised that she was
silently asking him if they should tell Mark and Isaac about their
visit to Browning’s. The very faint negative shake of his head kept
her silent, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t want
Mark and Isaac to know that they had called at Browning’s house.
Still, it wasn’t the time or the place to ask.

“We got
directed to room 51 by a man at the reception desk who suddenly
vanished,” she whispered with growing dread.

“What
did he look like?”

Ben
sighed and probed his memory for as much detail of the
‘receptionist’ as he could remember.

“That’s
Bernard Murray,” Mark growled. “Now, why would they be at the
university, in Archibald Harrington’s office?”

“Was
there any name plaque on the door?” Isaac asked.

“No, the
name plate just said ‘Room 51’,” Beatrice replied. “He certainly
didn’t give us the impression that he shouldn’t be there, and
feared being caught. Does Browning have connections with the
university?”

Mark
shook his head. “Not as far as I am aware, no. Jules Sanders is the
one who used to give lectures there. Browning is an adventurer. His
family was once incredibly wealthy and afforded him an extremely
comfortable lifestyle as a child. He travelled extensively as a
young man and took to bringing rare and exotic plants back. From
what I have found out about him, he regularly brought exotic finds
back to England, sold them to a niche market, and got good money
for them. Some of the purchasers were universities who wanted rare
plants for their collection. All went well for a while, but then
Browning started to find himself short of money, and sold some of
his plants to a rather less discerning collector, shall we
say?”

“There
is a black market in exotic plants now?” Ben’s brows shot skyward
and he shared a look of horror with Beatrice. “Is that what the
body at the end of the garden was all about?”

“Do we
know who that was for definite yet?” Beatrice asked. Her head was
swivelling this way and that as she looked first at Mark, then Ben,
then back to Mark. Her breath lodged in her throat as she studied
Mark, and she knew who he was going to say before he said it. Sure
enough, she was right.

“Brian
Mottram.”

“So, of
the four men on the list; Jules Sanders and Brian Mottram are dead.
The person we thought we were meeting, Archibald Harrington is also
dead, but was really Richard Browning.” Ben rubbed a hand down his
face and realised that it was going to take some time for his brain
to process all of this information. He opened his eyes and glanced
first at Mark, then Isaac. “The ‘receptionist’ who guided us to the
room may have been Bernard Murray.”

Ben
stared blankly at the floor for a moment.

“What?”
Isaac asked as he studied Ben’s thoughtful expression.

“How
many people have we had following us?” Ben growled in disgust.
“Caroline Smethwick must have been following Beatrice to know that
she was alone on the lane last Sunday. She must have followed us to
Marchwell Bishop today to be able to be behind us. Now it appears
that we have Richard Browning following us to the university as
well?”

Beatrice
started to feel slightly sick. “How? There has been nobody around,”
she exclaimed, and felt her temper begin to boil. She frowned at
Ben. “We haven’t had a string of carriages behind us whenever we
have gone somewhere, so how can that many people follow
us?”

Ben
nodded and shook his head in consternation.

Beatrice
frowned. “I did see Sigmund Hargraves at the market in Great Tipton
on the way to the university.”

“He may
be employed by Murray and Browning,” Ben sighed. “It would explain
how they knew we were on our way and were in position by the time
we arrived at the university.”

“It’s a
lot of trouble to go to just for a plant,” Beatrice
cried.

“This is
no normal plant though, Beatrice,” Ben argued. “This is rare and
incredibly valuable. If these men have an unscrupulous buyer who is
willing to pay a lot of money for something that is one of a kind,
they could be driven to do whatever it takes to get their hands on
it.”

“Including murder,” Mark added solemnly. He could really find
no fault with Ben’s logic and nodded.

“Has
anyone been to check Sigmund Hargraves’ address again?”

“He
wasn’t at home the last time I checked,” Isaac reported
crisply.

The room
fell silent, but it was evident from the tension that hovered over
them that they were all thinking along the same lines.

“Was he
not at home, or not able to answer the door?” Ben asked
quietly.

Isaac
looked at Mark. “Do you want me to force entry?”

Mark
nodded. “I think we need to.” With that, Isaac quietly
left.

Within
minutes, Ben slid the bolt across the front door having watched
Isaac turn out of the driveway and disappear from sight. He wanted
to warn the Detective to keep an eye out for runaway carriages but,
given that the carriage that had been the cause all of the trouble
of late was now firmly embedded in a hedge, it seemed a worthless
piece of advice.

He
returned to the sitting room to find Mark and Beatrice discussing
the circle.

“I will
go and sit in the front parlour so I am out of sight, and will wait
there until Caroline arrives. When she does appear - if she does
appear - I will come out and deal with her. We don’t know how
dangerous she is, or how desperate, so don’t be fooled by any
innocent act she may put on. Stay completely out of the way and let
me and Ben handle it.”

Beatrice
nodded at the clock. The sudden rattle of the front door made them
all jump, but Beatrice smiled when the knocks were quickly followed
by the high pitched chink of keys against the glass
panelling.

“It’s
Maud. She has come back to sort out tea,” she whispered and jumped
up from her chair to let the housekeeper in. “She always knocks
like that,” she called as she slid the bolts back and yanked the
door open.

“Ben!”

The
words were out before she could stop them, and held every ounce of
the shock that almost swamped her when her gaze landed on Maud, who
had Caroline Smethwick directly behind her.

“Caroline Smethwick,” she heard Ben whisper behind her, but
she daren’t turn around and acknowledge him. She couldn’t tear her
gaze away from the cold ferocity written on Caroline’s
face.

Before
she could say anything, she was waved back into the hallway by a
glowering Caroline, who shoved the housekeeper before her. The
wicked looking pistol she waved around recklessly was enough to
ensure that both women complied without protest. Beatrice grabbed
Maud’s hand and continued to pull her toward the kitchen, until
Caroline was a few feet away from the front door. As she moved back
she was aware that someone was bent over and moved behind her, but
she daren’t take a look to see who it was.