Fatal Enquiry (36 page)

“No, sir. I am not,” I lied.

“Then the two of you did not share a
grand passion
.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “No. I wouldn’t call it that.”

“Are you under the impression that she may have been in love with you?”

“She was the practical sort, I’d say. She wouldn’t lose her head over a fellow, although she might make him feel that she did.”

“It’s getting close to lunch. Go over to the Grapes public house and bring us some meat from the joint, and bread, and a pitcher of beer. I’m suspending work on the new case for the day, until I’ve studied the letter thoroughly. My thumbs are pricking. Pricking fiercely, in fact.”

I returned with the food and drink, having liberated also a nice wedge of cheddar and a jar of pickled onions. We ate at our desks, making rude sandwiches of the beef and the thick bread. I believe it was his favorite meal, a businessman’s lunch for busy men in the middle of Whitehall. In the Grapes, I rubbed shoulders with men from the Admiralty, the Foreign Office, Downing Street, and the Houses of Parliament. If Etienne Dummolard suspected that, he would have torn his hair out.

He was munching onions with the aid of a small fork Jenkins had brought from somewhere, and taking swallows of beer as he read the letter once more. Something about it truly excited him. At one point he even drew the lamp closer and perused it flat upon the desk with his face but a few inches away.

For my part, I was back as I had begun, with little to do, waiting for him to say something and unable to interrupt him. It was my letter, after all. Therefore, I studied my notes from the new case while he studied the old one. Finally, he tossed it across the glass top of his desk, where it fell off on my side and landed on the Persian rug.

“We’ve been fooled, lad,” he said. “She tricked us. She tricked everyone to get what she wanted. I did not take this girl seriously enough. I thought it mere coincidence that I never encountered her the entire time she was in London, but she planned it that way before she even arrived. I was too preoccupied with her father.”

“I noticed she disappeared the minute you arrived at the Albemarle,” I said.

“In many ways, she’s worse than Nightwine.”

“Wait,” I said, waving my hands. “You’re the one who said a girl her age could not attempt such a complicated venture.”

“I know,” my employer said. “I was wrong.”

That was a remark I never expected to hear from Cyrus Barker’s lips.

“Go on,” I said, looking at him skeptically.

“I didn’t understand her motivation, or rather, her desperation. She came here with the express intent to kill her father.”

“But she couldn’t kill her father,” I pointed out.

“That’s correct. But I could. She saw a chance for her own freedom, if she played her cards right.”

I crossed my arms, thinking furiously.

“Don’t forget, lad, Sebastian Nightwine was here two years ago, before he even met her.”

“And caused her mother’s death,” I added.

“Precisely. When he was here last he already had the plan to attack Tibet, and had possessed it for over twenty years. Why should he choose now to go ahead with it, after all this time?”

“He said it was his pension,” I said. “He was keen as mustard after it.”

“Perhaps she put the thought in his head. She had to make her father think it was his idea in order for him to go through with it.”

“It’s too fantastic,” I argued. “To come halfway round the world to rid oneself of one’s father.”

“Believe what you want, but think about this: why the British backing? They could have eventually gotten funding elsewhere and taken Tibet on their own, but Nightwine became convinced he must make his money here.”

“Where you would be in his way.”

“Exactly. And Miss Ilyanova knew we would inevitably clash. I was the blunt instrument she would use against her father. She would not kill her father on her own, but she could manipulate matters so someone else could do it for her.”

“What about me?” I summoned the courage to ask. “She manipulated you and Nightwine. Was she manipulating me, as well?”

“Just because she couldn’t kill you doesn’t mean she couldn’t manipulate you. Miss Ilyanova has been damaged by the events of her life, possibly beyond her ability to return to a normal existence. Despite her claims in the letter, which you must understand was written for a purpose, I cannot picture her living a life of quiet domesticity, even to please you.” Barker got up and went through the entire ritual of lighting his pipe again. I suspected he was summoning his thoughts, or thinking how best to express them.

“Thomas,” he said when his pipe was going again. “You’re an intelligent young fellow, educated, bright—”

“Get on with it,” I remarked.

“But you’re not on her level. She is the daughter of a Russian countess and a famous explorer. She is beautiful, clever, and perhaps the most dangerous woman in Europe. She is an adventuress, as much as I deplore the term. She could have her pick of any man in London or Paris. Wealthy men, powerful men, aristocrats, even kings. Instead, she chose the son of a collier, a disgraced scholar, assistant to a man on the run from the law, with seemingly little going for him.”

I saw it coming, but it stung anyway. Barker is a very good man but he can be uncommonly blunt. I felt I should say something in my defense.

“She said we were in unique positions, because of the battle between you and her father.”

“Do not take everything she said at face value, lad.”

“She was just using me, then?”

“I’m not saying she had no feelings for you. She has not invited you to Ceylon in order to punish this agency. However, you had one attribute no one else possessed. Her father despised you.”

“Oh, he did,” I answered. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, or quite a lot, actually. I suspect she used you to make her father irate. You wouldn’t be the first unsuitable young man thrust under the nose of her father, I’m sure.”

“Balderdash,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back in my chair.

Barker removed the pipe from his mouth and shook his head. “What happened between you and Miss Ilyanova does not concern the agency. I’ll only say this. You have told me recently that you are content with your employment here and that you intend to continue with the agency indefinitely. What means could she employ to get you to abandon your career and follow after her? She tried to make you fall in love with her, but that did not succeed. You chose instead your responsibilities here. Her only way to bring you to Ceylon is by impressing upon you the belief that she has something more to offer.”

Barker put his pipe in an ashtray on top of his smoking cabinet to cool. I started to go through the post, but suddenly stopped and looked up at my employer. “There’s another letter here, sir.”

“From whom?”

“From Sofia. And it’s addressed to you.”

The Guv stood and leaned over the desk, snatching it out of my outstretched hand.

Dear Mr. Barker,

I was going through my late father’s effects and found this photograph. I thought it might be of interest to you.

Sincerely,

Sofia Ilyanova

Barker separated the letter from the photograph and studied it as if it might produce information beyond the few simple words it contained. Then he regarded the sepia-toned image with such intensity, I wondered what it could possibly be. His wrist dropped and he held it loosely between his fingers, looking stunned. It dropped onto the desk and I retrieved it, wondering what had astonished him so. The image was octavo-sized and someone had inked the date 1885 in the lower right-hand corner. A group of men in large hats of the sort worn in western America stood formally in a group in front of a bunting emblazoned with stars and stripes. The men were all armed and one of their heads had been carefully circled in the same ink as the date.

“It’s him,” Barker said at last.

Who on earth is he talking about?
I wondered.

After a moment, he finally found his voice. “It’s Caleb,” he said, breathing hard. “My brother is alive. And Nightwine knew it the entire time!”

HISTORICAL NOTE

When I write the Barker and Llewelyn books, I’m in the habit of using both historical and imagined people, places, and events without informing the reader which are real. My criteria for choosing a historical figure has to do with whether he or she was involved in whatever kind of situation or political movement the novel is about. They help bind the story to a particular time and place, while at the same time, they allow us to see that many of the issues from a hundred years ago are more than relevant in the world today. I’d like to draw back the curtain and discuss some of the historical figures who appear in
Fatal Enquiry
.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon
(1834–1892) was the most popular evangelist of his day. His sermons were published in the weekly newspapers and read by such authors as Robert Louis Stevenson. He built the Metropolitan Tabernacle in Southwark, where it still stands today, and left behind dozens of books on various subjects which are still being published today. He was respected by leaders of other denominations and religions, as well as people from all fields of interest.

General Charles “China” Gordon
(1833–1885) first made himself known to the British public by leading an army of troops to save Shanghai during the Taiping Rebellion. His success made him a household name, but he was also discussed for his controversial mystical interests in Christianity. The army did its best to keep him out of the limelight until he was sent to Khartoum in 1884 to help defend the city from the Mahdi’s troops. His death there was an embarrassment to the British government. Gordon was considered a martyr, the English public cried for his body to be recovered, and eventually Lord Kitchener was sent to suppress the Mahdi’s forces in the Sudan.

Frederick Townsend Ward
(1831–1862) was an American soldier and adventurer who led a group of American soldiers against the Taiping rebels in support of the Imperial Government. He was trained at West Point in the same class as George Armstrong Custer. His devil-may-care attitude made him popular among his troops, but his risk-taking earned him an early grave.

Israel Zangwill
(1864–1926), an Anglo-Jewish reporter, author, playwright, and Zionist leader, is best remembered for the phrase he coined: “melting pot.” He wrote several books, the most famous being
The Big Bow Mystery,
which appeared in serial form. Each time someone wrote in to suggest the killer, he scratched that name off his list of suspects. At one point during his tenure as Jewish leader, he considered moving the Jewish diaspora to Galveston, Texas.

Frederick Abberline
(1843–1929), Chief inspector for the London Metropolitan Police, is best known for spearheading the investigation of Jack the Ripper in 1888. He was also in charge of the Cleveland Street scandal of 1889, before retiring in 1892 with many awards and commendations. He was a quiet, methodical investigator, whose first occupation was as a clockmaker.

And finally,
Robert Anderson
, (1841–1918), later Sir Robert, was an Irish-born civil servant and barrister who eventually became assistant head of the Metropolitan Police. In particular, he was head of the Criminal Investigation Department during the Jack the Ripper investigation. He retired in 1901 and was made Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath. He was an evangelical, who wrote several books on Christian numerology and eschatology, as well as a memoir of his career,
The Lighter Side of My Official Life,
in 1910.

These men, who lived inspiring and often courageous lives, add a richness and depth to the Victorian world of Barker and Llewelyn. I am ever in their debt.

Also by Will Thomas

Some Danger Involved

To Kingdom Come

The Limehouse Text

The Hellfire Conspiracy

The Black Hand

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

WILL THOMAS is the author of the Cyrus Barker and Thomas Llewelyn series, including
The Black Hand, The Hellfire Conspiracy, The Limehouse Text, To Kingdom Come,
and the Shamus and Barry Award-nominated
Some Danger Involved
. He works as a librarian in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where he lives with his family.

Visit the author’s Web site at
www.willthomasauthor.com
.