Major Vernon pulled out a chair and sat down next to Mr Geoffrey.
“I understand you had a visitor this afternoon,” he said.
“No, I have received no-one today. I have not been well.”
“Are you sure about that, sir?”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“Your man mentioned you had a visitor this afternoon, Mr Geoffrey,” Major Vernon said.
“He is mistaken.”
There was a little pause as Major Vernon picked up another medal and examined it.
“This is a serious matter, Mr Geoffrey. I am investigating a murder. I would appreciate your co-operation.”
“Yet you take a servant’s word over mine?”
“Your servant has nothing to hide from me.”
“What are you implying, sir?”
Major Vernon put down the medal and knotted his fingers together, fixing his gaze upon Geoffrey.
“In the course of my enquiries into young Barnes’ death, certain letters have come into my possession. Letters written by Josiah Harrison to Barnes. They make for illuminating reading.”
“I cannot see how such letters concern me.”
“You are frequently referred to in them. You and your entertainments. It is all laid plain.” Geoffrey said nothing but began to put the medals back into their trays. “Now, sir, will you please tell me who called this afternoon,” Major Vernon went on.
“I would have thought you would know better than to trust anything said by a scoundrel like Harrison.”
“He is a scoundrel, is he? I understand he was a frequent guest in this house.”
“He is a scoundrel! An ungrateful scoundrel and whatever he says about me in these letters, it is a lie! How dare you take his word against mine, sir? How dare you?”
“Be plain with me then, Mr Geoffrey. Tell me the nature of his business with you this afternoon. I cannot judge you fairly when you will not tell the truth. Mr Harrison was here this afternoon, I think?”
“He may have called briefly,” said Geoffrey after a long pause.
“There, that was not so hard,” said Vernon. “And what was the substance of the visit?” There was another long silence. “Come, sir, why did he call?”
“He... he asked me for money. The insolent wretch – I sent him packing soon enough!”
“Yes, very insolent. What was the money for? Did he say?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I did not give him any, of course.”
“Are you sure about that, Mr Geoffrey? After all, you have given him money in the past.”
“I beg your pardon, sir!” said Geoffrey with something like a splutter.
“Please, a little less innocence, Mr Geoffrey! I am not a fool. I have found purses full of sovereigns in both Barnes’ and Harrison’s possession. Where did they come by those? How is it that the pair of them could afford such fine tailoring and not be in debt for it? You are the only person of means with whom they have any sort of intimate relationship.” Major Vernon put considerable emphasis on the word intimate, and Felix noticed Geoffrey finger the cuff of his nightshirt in agitation.
“I may have made them gifts of money, from time to time,” he said, after long consideration.
“Gifts? Not wages for services rendered?”
“No, most definitely not. I resent that suggestion, sir.”
“Then perhaps it was money for staying quiet?”
“No, no! What do you mean by that?”
Major Vernon reached into his coat and brought out a folded letter.
“I mean you were paying them for their discretion. Harrison writes here to Mr Barnes:
“We may screw that old tart Geoffrey for an extra fifty. He is scared as a man can be. That will get us nicely settled. But you must do it, for he dotes on you.”
What I am to make of that, now, Mr Geoffrey?”
“You can make of it whatever your vulgar mind pleases, Major Vernon, but I will sue you for slander if you continue to make such allegations about my character.”
“The burden of truth will be yours to prove and it will not be pretty. You would do better telling me exactly what passed here this afternoon. Harrison is a wanted man and if you have aided him in escaping justice, then...”
Geoffrey gave a great sigh.
“He asked me for money,” he said. “And I gave him twenty guineas. He said he intended to leave Northminster tonight – if I gave him the money I would hear no more of him. He begged me for it. He told me he had nothing to do with Barnes’ death but that you would not believe him – that the circumstances were all against him and that you were determined to hang him for murder – and if not for that, for... for...”
“For buggery, sir?” said Major Vernon.
“He threatened me!” exclaimed Geoffrey. “The scoundrel! He said if I did not give him the money he would spread dreadful slanders about me.”
“Twenty guineas?” said Vernon mildly. “Is that all?”
“It is not true! Whatever that devil says it is not true! Nothing of that nature happened here. Nothing! It is wicked nonsense. I am a good Christian and I would never sully myself with such unspeakable behaviour.”
“Then why did you give him twenty guineas, Mr Geoffrey?” asked Major Vernon. “If it was all lies, and you had nothing to hide?”
“I have a reputation as a charitable man, Major Vernon,” said Geoffrey drawing himself up a little. “It is something that you would do well to cultivate yourself.”
***
“So,” said the Major as they walked away from the house, “has Harrison taken flight because he is guilty of murder, or because he is worried about being wrongly accused of murder? He is scared, that’s clear enough. If I could just lay my hands on him again... The worst of this is that if I hadn’t gone to speak with Mrs Morgan, then I should have never have lost sight of him.”
Felix glanced at him.
“I told you she was a siren,” he said. “Bound to put us all on the rocks.”
“Perhaps there is something in that,” he said. “But it is hardly gallant. I do not think she intends to lure us into destruction. It is just an unfortunate consequence of her charisma – and of her distress.”
There was a sound of footsteps behind them; turning, they saw Holt running towards them.
“If you have a minute, sir!” he called out.
“Yes, of course, Mr Holt,” said Major Vernon. “What is it?”
“Thought you might like to know, sir, that the master has ordered for his bags to be packed. He intends to leave town tomorrow.”
“Did he say where he intends to go?”
“The continent. I have given my notice.”
“Then you are in want of a place.”
“It seems so, sir,” said Holt.
“Come down to see me tomorrow morning,” said Major Vernon. “I have been looking for a man – my own is getting old and wants to leave me. I cannot offer you French cooking or many perks, but you might find I suit you better in many respects.”
“You may be right there, sir,” said Holt. “I will be there.”
“You seriously mean to employ him?” said Felix when Holt had gone.”A dour fellow like that?”
“Dour but loyal. Men like that are useful about the place, in any capacity. I shall try and persuade him to be more than my servant. I want him on the Force. I’m thinking of setting a few of the more quick-witted men about the town in plain clothes. They have a detective department at the Bow Street office now. I think we would do well to arm ourselves similarly. And Holt is our man, I am sure of it.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
As he walked to the Deanery the next morning, Felix wished he had been able to confide in the Major. He would have had some good advice for him on how to approach this delicate situation. As it was, he felt he was going unarmed into the enemy’s camp with not even a good night’s sleep to give him strength and succour.
He rang the bell, and was surprised that the door was answered not by a servant, but by Kate Pritchard herself. She at once hurried him through the nearest door into an austere, formal room with old-fashioned high-back chairs arranged about the walls and a black and white tiled floor. There was a bible sitting open on the round table in the centre of the room, and he wondered if this was where the Dean read prayers to his family and household each day.
The March light fell grey and cold through the windows and did nothing to flatter Miss Pritchard. She looked wrecked: her complexion was ashen, and her eyes red and puffy. He sensed she had had as little sleep as he had. Had she been crying all night? Had she been made to cry? He had wanted to be angry with her but he could not. The sight of her moved him, despite everything.
“Do not, I beg you, contradict him,” she said, in a low hoarse whisper. “Accept everything.”
“But, but –”
“I beg you,” she said, grabbing both his hands and squeezing them in hers. “Please, for the sake of friendship. You said you considered me a friend?” Then she bent and swiftly kissed his finger tips. “Please?”
He sensed her passion and her desperation – this was no manipulative game, surely, but his mind still demanded answers. He pulled away his hands.
“But why? Why did you say that, when only a moment before –”
“I cannot explain now. Please, just for me – would you – could you?”
“But –”
The door opened and Dean Pritchard entered. Kate jumped away from Felix, but a fraction too late. He marched up and pushed them apart.
“Good morning, sir,” Felix managed to say although he was considerably startled by the force of the gesture.
“There is nothing good about it!” the Dean said. “Nothing at all. Go to your room, Katherine!”
“Yes, Papa.”
She ran off without another word. Felix was tempted to run after her. The Dean was looking at him as if he was the devil incarnate.
“Well well, sir, well well, here you are – at last,” the Dean said. “At last. And where do we begin? Where?” He shook his head. “I am still incredulous. That is my difficulty. I cannot credit that a man of your position in society – a gentleman – could even consider behaving in such an outrageous fashion as you have. No gentleman would pursue a honourable courtship in such a way, with secret meetings –”
“There have been no secret meetings,” Felix cut in.
“So what was that yesterday?”
“We met by chance.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I give you my word on it.”
“You word is worth nothing to me!” said the Dean. “You having been lying all along. Do you think I am a fool? Do you think I see nothing? I saw you talking the other night, when you came to dine here. Your heads together, full of secrets – the pair of you. I saw you and so did the whole company.”
“We were only talking,” Felix said.
“That was not talk. That was seduction. You were pursuing her, you cannot deny it. You have made love to a pure and innocent girl and seduced her from the path of virtue and duty. You have tempted and flattered her and led her into wickedness and sin. You have made her write to you and meet you in secret. You have stolen my sweet innocent girl from me and made a harlot of her!”
“I have not laid a finger on her!” said Felix. “Do you truly think, sir, that I –”
“You have had her. That is plain enough. She is ruined – and it is your doing.”
“That I absolutely refute!” Felix said, astonished by this. “I have not seduced Miss Pritchard! I have not so much as touched her!”
“That is not what she says,” said the Dean. “Why would she lie to me? Her own father? She admitted it all to me last night. That you had overwhelmed her. That you took her virtue from her.”
“Dear God in heaven!” Felix could not help exclaiming. Had she really said that or was the Dean suffering some sort of delusion? Or perhaps she was?
And if she had said that, what could have possessed her to do it, unless she wanted after all to be marched to the altar and married to him, post haste? Was Ardenthwaite worth such a dangerous piece of brinkmanship? He knew that young women were sometimes eager to get themselves an establishment of their own, especially when there was an overbearing parent in the case, but to try and trap a man in this way! To accuse him of
that
, to her own father. It seemed to go entirely against what he knew of her character, but then what did he really know of that?
“Yes, you may as well get on your knees and beg your Saviour for forgiveness, young man!” said the Dean, and with that pushed him to the floor with such force that Felix found himself on his hands and knees. “There may yet be hope for you, if you humbly repent of your licentious and disgusting conduct!”
“I cannot repent of a sin I have not committed,” Felix said struggling to get back up onto his feet, but the Dean had him by the shoulders and held him there, on his knees. “You are completely mistaken. I have not – I would not – do such a thing to your daughter. You have mistaken what she says, I am sure of it. This is a mistake!”
“Fornicator!” The Dean spat the word into Felix’s face, increasing the pressure of his grip on his shoulders at the same time. “Seducer!” he shrieked, again right in Felix’s face, leaning over him, shaking him. Felix let himself fall backwards in order to extricate himself, crashing painfully onto his backside in the process but it at least allowed him to scrabble back onto this feet.
“This is a misunderstanding, sir!” he managed to say.
“It is worse than I thought,” the Dean said, advancing on him again. “You are prepared to accuse a lady of deceit in order to extricate yourself. Are you not prepared to face your responsibilities?”
“We are at cross-purposes, sir,” Felix managed to say, with all the calm he could manage. But he had his hands up to stop the Dean coming any closer.
“You still deny it?” said the Dean, his hand raised as if about to strike him, as if he were a disobedient child. “Do you?” And then he did strike him, plain across the face.
Felix felt his shock turn to rage in being so treated. It took all his self-control not to return the blow, such was his mounting fury.
“I will not stay here and be treated like this!” he said. “And if I find you have treated your daughter in such a fashion, then you will have to answer for it! You shall not slander or intimidate either of us, sir! I will not have it! A man in your position should know better than to take on so, like a common hoodlum!”
That seemed to stop the Dean in his stride. Felix wondered for a moment if he had overplayed his indignation, but the man was being outrageous and needed to be brought to heel.