The Circle of Sappho (11 page)

By the time Swann had finished the interviews he was feeling quite frustrated and hoped Tom would be more forthcoming in his answers; he knew the truth surrounding the deaths and had actually been the one to discover the bodies. As he approached Tom's thatched cottage, Swann saw the middle-aged gardener bent over a flower bed near the doorway. Standing to greet him, Swann saw that he was around the same height as him, but the years of garden work had curved his back and he walked with a stoop.

Once the formalities had been dispensed with, Swann asked Tom to repeat the story he had briefly recounted the previous day. Swann claimed that he did not remember all the details, as he had not written them down, but it was a device to get suspects – and Tom had to be considered one – to repeat their ‘story' so that any discrepancies could be investigated.

‘Do you mind if we sit down,' said Tom. ‘My back is a little sore.'

Swann nodded in agreement and the gardener briefly went into his cottage and brought out two wooden chairs. Once the men were seated Tom began to talk.

‘On Sunday morning Miss Jennings had told me Miss Templeton would be leaving that afternoon and so I might see her about the grounds.'

‘And did you see her in the grounds during the morning?'

‘No, I didn't. The first time I saw her that day was when I found her body.'

‘I understand,' said Swann. ‘Did you see anyone else in the grounds or did anything strange or out of the ordinary happen?'

‘I saw that gentleman who is staying here.'

‘Mr Bolton?'

Tom nodded. ‘He wanted to know if I had seen Miss Templeton, which I had not, and then asked if I would help him look for her. I did so for a while, but then went back to my bed of sweet peas. They have to be planted in late March or…'

‘Is it that bed there?' interrupted Swann, pointing in the direction of a newly turned flower bed.

‘Yes, that's it.'

‘And you were working on that bed all morning.'

‘The majority of it, I suppose.'

Swann noted that from Tom's cottage he could see straight across the lake to the island.

‘But you did not see either Miss Leigh or Miss Templeton row across the lake?'

Tom shook his head.

‘Where is the boat normally moored, when it is on this side?'

‘Over there,' replied Tom, gesturing towards the water, ‘behind those bushes.'

It was the same spot where Swann had stepped into it himself the day before, to be taken across to the island.

‘At exactly what time did Mr Bolton approach you to help him search for Miss Templeton?'

‘I couldn't say, but I know it must have been near twelve o'clock.'

‘Why do you say that?'

‘Well, because not long after, Miss Jennings returned with the rest of the girls.'

‘And how did Mr Bolton act when you were both searching?'

‘What do you mean, sir?' said Tom.

‘Well, did Mr Bolton seem anxious, nervous, or calm perhaps?'

‘Possibly a little agitated.'

‘Why do you say that?'

‘He was muttering to himself.'

‘What did he say?' enquired Swann.

‘I don't know. It was mumbled and also in a different language.'

‘A different language? Was it French?'

‘I don't know what language it was, only that I did not understand it.'

Swann nodded. ‘So when you were searching the grounds, it did not occur to you to go across to the island?'

‘No. It is forbidden to go there without permission from Miss Jennings.'

‘Did you check to see if the boat was still at its mooring this side?'

Tom shook his head. ‘There was no need as far as I was concerned.'

‘Then what happened?'

‘As I said, I went back to the flower bed and my sweet peas.'

‘And you were there until Miss Jennings told you to go across to the island.'

‘Yes,' nodded Tom.

‘But when you got to the mooring the boat was not there?'

‘That's right. So I swam across on the instructions of Miss Jennings.'

‘Can you tell me exactly what you found when you arrived on the island?'

‘As you saw for yourself, there is only one way onto the island and that is on the jetty on the other side. As soon as rounded the island I saw the boat moored, so I knew someone was there. I reached the jetty and pulled myself up; the banks around the rest of the island are too steep to find a grip. Once I was on the island I began to search it. I began with the temple, which is where I saw them.'

‘What did you do, then?'

Tom did not answer.

‘Is something wrong?' asked Swann.

‘It is hard, Mr Swann, to think back on seeing them inside the temple. You must catch whoever did this.'

‘Why do you think someone else caused their deaths, Tom?'

‘After seeing their faces, I cannot imagine them doing that to themselves.'

Swann nodded.

‘How well did you know Miss Leigh and Miss Templeton? Did you talk to them often?'

There was a moment's hesitation before Tom answered.

‘Uh, no, occasionally the girl, Grace, I mean Miss Templeton, might stop and talk with me when I was out tending to the flowers.'

‘What did you converse about?'

‘Flowers mainly, she said how much she loved them.'

‘And Miss Leigh, did you ever talk with her?'

‘No.'

‘You seem very certain,'

‘I would say if I had.'

Swann accepted this for now.

‘When you were in the temple, did you notice anything else? Perhaps something that may have been written.'

‘There was nothing.'

‘Perhaps a note or such-like?'

‘Are you saying I'm lying?'

‘Goodness no, I am not saying that at all. I am merely attempting to establish the facts surrounding these deaths.'

‘There was nothing else in the temple,' said Tom, a little calmer.

‘And then what did you do?'

‘I swam back across the lake as quickly as I could.'

‘Why did you not take the boat back?'

Tom thought for a moment and scratched his forehead. ‘I don't rightly know,' he said. ‘It must have been the shock at finding them.'

‘So once you reached this side of the lake again, you told Miss Jennings.'

Tom nodded.

‘And what did she do?'

‘She gave instructions that all the girls were to be kept in the dormitories, which face away from the lake. Then she told me to swim across the lake again and bring back the boat. She said not to touch the bodies.'

‘And did you?'

‘No I didn't, not this time.'

‘So are you saying you touched the bodies when you were there the first time?'

‘I er, no, I mean, if I did, it was only to check to see if they were still alive.'

Swann nodded.

‘And then what happened when you retrieved the boat?'

‘I rowed Miss Jennings across to the island. When we reached it, she told me to stay in the boat while she went to the temple.'

‘How long was she in there?'

‘Around five minutes, maybe ten, I can't remember exactly.'

‘Then she came back to the boat?'

‘Yes. On her return she asked me to retrieve the bodies and bring them to the boat. After I had loaded them in, I rowed Miss Jennings across. I then took the bodies, one at a time, to the chapel.'

‘Did Miss Jennings say anything while you were in the boat?'

‘Only to give me instructions and then to say if anyone were to ask what had happened, to tell them it had been a boating accident.'

‘Has anyone asked you?'

Tom shook his head.

‘Thank you Tom, that is all for now.'

Swann stood up to leave, but then paused.

‘Actually Tom, there is one more question I would like to ask. When you went into the temple the second time, after Miss Jennings had been in there alone, did you notice if anything was different?'

‘Different?'

‘Was there anything that looked as if it might have been moved or taken?'

‘Not that I know. It all looked the same.'

Swann nodded and turned back toward the main house. As he did so he glimpsed a figure looking out at him from one of the dormitory windows. Before he could see who it was, they were gone.

Harriet Charlotte Montague was born in 1744 on the outskirts of Bath, in the village of Swainswick. She grew up in the small parish with her sister, Cassandra Jane, until the age of twenty, when Harriet married and moved away.

Although Swainswick was steeped in history – it not only laid claim to being the place where Bladud, the founder of Bath, and his herd of pigs were cured of leprosy, but nearby Little Solsbury Hill was purportedly the site of the Battle of Badon, one of King Arthur's greatest victories against the Saxons – such things meant little to Harriet. That is not to say she lacked interest in acquiring knowledge, as her voracious reading of her father's library proved. But the volumes she preferred to digest were the travel books he had accumulated and which from an early age put notions of adventure in her mind. As soon as circumstances and opportunity allowed, she had left the tiny hamlet of her birth for good; only returning for the funeral of her sister.

She had met her future husband, Lord Henry Smithson, when introduced at a supper party in Bath, given by a mutual friend. Although financially independent, he had recently been engaged in work of a sensitive nature for the government. He had come to the spa city to take its famous medicinal waters for a recurrent attack of gout. On his own admission, he had not been the most handsome man in the room that evening, but there was something about his rugged features and quietly spoken nature that made Harriet immediately fall in love with him. By the end of the evening, it was reciprocated. They were married later that year, 1764, at St Swithin's Church, in the parish of Walcot, and Harriet added the title of Lady to her name.

The newlyweds spent their honeymoon on the Grand Tour. They had chosen the shortest route across the Channel, from Dover to Calais, undertaking a night crossing which saw them approach the French coast at dawn. Although in sight of shore, a contrary wind had forced the couple into a small rowing boat in order to complete their journey. They had spent the following night at the Hotel Dessein, a charming old hotel in Calais, before heading south to Paris, passing through the towns of Boulogne, Abbeville, Amiens and Chantilly on the way. They had made good time, as the roads were in good condition, stopping only twice; once to stay a night at an inn and again to see the acclaimed treasures at the Abbey of Saint-Denis.

In the French capital they had visited such sights as the Louvre, Tuileries, the Luxembourg and the Observatory, along with pilgrimages to the churches of Val-de-Grâce, St Sulpice and Notre Dame; while in Italy they had marvelled at the Coliseum in Rome, been captivated by Florence's art and attended the Real Teatro di San Carlo in Naples.

Although her husband had initially resisted pressure from the government to continue his work with them while on honeymoon, by the time they left Italy for Switzerland he had capitulated. It was, as far as the government was concerned, the perfect cover; a newly married couple on their honeymoon travelling through Europe and being able to come and go as they pleased. For a while Lord Henry combined duty and pleasure, but before long he became increasingly busy and preoccupied.

The end of their Grand Tour came in Greece. They had intended to stay in Athens only long enough to visit the Acropolis and enjoy the view from Mount Lycabettus, but with someone of her husband's particular skills required there in the long term, they had ended up staying eighteen months. As part of his remit, Lord Henry had made several journeys to Crete, reluctantly leaving his wife to amuse herself with the other diplomatic wives. Lady Harriet's closest companion from this circle had been Esperanza, wife of the Spanish Ambassador, and they would often accompany each other, along with assorted bodyguards, into the Turkish quarter, located on the north-east slope of the Acropolis and famed for its labyrinthine streets full of market stalls and bazaars.

In 1770 they finally left Athens for Constantinople, where Lord Henry was to undertake work for the British envoy to Turkey. No sooner had they arrived, however, than he was required in Crete on an urgent matter. This time Lady Harriet insisted she accompany him. Having arrived on Crete and accommodation been secured, her husband immediately left for a clandestine rendezvous. On his way to this meeting, he was tragically killed in a fall from a mountain path. Harriet was informed of her husband's death by two British Government officials, who arrived at the mansion where she was staying.

The following day, as she was about to take the officials' advice and leave for England, she learned the truth surrounding Lord Henry's death; that it had not been an accident but murder. Keeping this knowledge to herself, but determined to find out who was behind it, she returned to Constantinople and volunteered herself to the British Government, in order to carry on with her husband's work. They were initially sceptical but nevertheless gave her a number of tasks of a lowly nature to begin with, in order to assess her abilities. Having adequately proved herself with these, they began to realise what a valuable asset she could be; a financially independent, titled widow able to travel freely around the courts and embassies of Europe. For all intents and purpose she was the perfect spy. No foreign government suspected her and even if they did, by this time she had assembled a formidable book of contacts that could whisk her out of the country at a moment's notice.

In the thirty-four years which had passed, her role and responsibility had increased substantially and she had been involved in some of the most important and prestigious coups engineered by the British intelligence community.