Authors: Clare Langley-Hawthorne
Harrison was leaning over at the wrought iron arch looking down at the dirty, brackish water slapping against the pylon below.
“Well, I’m here,” Ursula said refusing to hide the challenge in her tone.
“Admiral Smythe’s body was found just under the second arch of the bridge. It was spotted by one of the paddle-steamers going to Greenwich,” Harrison said, bypassing all preliminaries, as he continued to gaze at the water below. “the initial report from the coroner suggests the body had been in the water for probably a week or so. Given the tides and currents, the body likely entered the water upstream from here—perhaps near Westminster. Although the coroner ruled the official cause of death was drowning, Admiral Smythe was already in the throes of cyanide poisoning when he fell, or was pushed, into the water. The man had enough cyanide in his body to have killed three men.”
“Cyanide?” Ursula responded.
Harrison turned from the river to face her. “The Coroner obviously cannot determine whether Smythe deliberately took it himself or if he was an unwitting recipient, but cyanide acts fast—it can’t have more than ten or fifteen minutes from when he ingested it to when he fell, otherwise he would have already been dead before he hit the water.”
“And you said the estimated time of death was about a week ago?” Ursula asked.
“Yes, although the coroner cannot be sure, not after this long in the water, but he estimates around seven days, perhaps more. Death probably occurred the night before Admiral Smythe’s housekeeper reported him missing.”
“It’s possible he came down to the river after dining with Lord Wrotham and took his own life by drinking cyanide,” Ursula said.
“Anything is possible,” Harrison responded dryly, “but we found nothing on the body or in Smythe’s office to support a suicide theory.”
“You’re sure he was murdered?” Ursula posed her question as a statement of fact.
“A person committing suicide is hardly likely to take cyanide if he plans on drowning himself in the river,” Harrison replied. “Besides, I hear cyanide poisoning is a painful way to die.”
“No doubt Sir Buckley is convinced that Lord Wrotham murdered Admiral Smythe,” Ursula began hotly.
“But of course,” Harrison interjected. “Lord Wrotham was, after all, the last man to see Admiral Smythe alive—and they did dine together at the Carlton Club.”
“I can just see Lord Wrotham whipping out his trusty hip flask of cyanide and lacing Admiral’s Smythe wine while no one was looking—”
“Then you understand Buckley’s sense of imagination,” Harrison replied, deadpan.
“I’m sure Sir Buckley will outline all his fanciful theories in my interview with him tomorrow, so tell me…why did you really summon me here?” Ursula asked, folding her arms in tight. She was tired of this game of evasion.
“I wanted you to look at something.”
Ursula’s skepticism did not diminish.
“It’s one of the Naval Intelligence files on Lord Wrotham which I thought you should see. We’ve only just started sifting through all of the files in Admiral Smythe’s office cabinets but I think it’s only fair that you read this—so you know the kind of man Lord Wrotham really is. Part of it comprises an old case report about an incident in Guyana. Lord Wrotham and Admiral Smythe were both there from ‘02 to ’04, ostensibly to report on the boundary issue between British Guyana and Venezuela—but as you will see, there was more involved than first appears.”
“And you are giving me this because?”
“Because I think you deserve to know the truth.”
Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I trust you after the other night?”
“That was Sir Buckley’s idea, to see if I could draw you out before we formally interviewed you. I told him it was stupid and that it would only serve to make you more determined than ever to clear Lord Wrotham’s name—and I was right. But you must also know that I am the very last person who would ever want to think badly of a man like Lord Wrotham. I owe him a debt which can never be repaid”—Harrison held up his hand to silence her—“No, Miss Marlow, I am not about to let you into my confidence regarding that. But I would hate to see you throw away everything you have fought so hard to attain to defend a man that is not worthy of your defense.”
For once Ursula held her tongue.
“Just look at the file,” Harrison said. “And make your own judgment.”
He pointed to a lone reporter waiting on Victoria embankment. “Obviously, given the number of eyes watching this case, I cannot hand you the file in public but I’ll make arrangements for it to be at your house this afternoon.”
“All right,” Ursula said. “I’ll look at it. I’m not promising, however, that it will change anything.”
“I can only spare the file for tonight or they’ll get suspicious,” Harrison said. “If you leave it in an envelope with Biggs, I’ll retrieve it in the morning.”
Ursula nodded, but as Harrison stepped back, preparing to turn and leave, she caught hold of his sleeve. “Chief Inspector,” she said by way of warning. “If I discover that you are playing me false or what you are giving me is merely a ruse to discredit Lord Wrotham, then I will do whatever it takes to ruin your career.” She took a deep breath. “I may be friendless at the moment but I am still wealthy.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Marlow, the one thing no one ever lets me forget,” Harrison replied, “is your wealth.”
By the time Ursula returned to Chester Square, the file Harrison spoke of was already waiting for her on her father’s old desk in the study. While she sat and stared at it, Biggs brought in some much needed tea and a slice of Cook’s lemon cake.
“Biggs,” Ursula asked slowly. “Do you think it is possible to be totally misled about the true nature of someone’s character?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question, Miss…”
“Do you think I have been mistaken about Lord Wrotham’s character?” Ursula continued. “I was wrong about Tom Bates wasn’t I? I was even wrong about my father…do you think”—Ursula stopped, the memory of her former fiancée, the man who had hanged for the murder of her father, was still raw.
“I’m hardly the person to ask,” Biggs replied with an embarrassed cough.
“I know, but, Biggs, who else can I ask? Who else will tell me the truth?”
“Miss, I’m not sure anyone can ever know or judge the true nature of another unless he has walked in his shoes.”
“How can I ever possibly hope to do that?” Ursula demanded.
“Quite simply you can’t, Miss. I suppose you’ll just have to have faith.”
“In him?” she asked.
“In yourself.”
Ursula opened the file to discover it comprised only five typewritten sheets. The first few pages were a case report prepared by Admiral Smythe, while the remaining pages appeared to be extracts from a police report along with a series of photographs adhered to paper. The photographs were faded and the paper foxed along on the edges. As she spread out the file contents in front of her, Ursula remembered that evening in Venezuela when she and Lord Wrotham had stood on a verandah on the shores of the Orinoco, listening as a thunderstorm approached.
It reminds me of nights in Guyana
, he had said and she had known in that instant that there was a part of him, a part of his past that would be forever hidden from her view. Now, perhaps, Harrison had given her the opportunity to take a glimpse into this secret world, but in so doing Ursula feared he had also given her the instrument by which all her faith in Lord Wrotham would be shattered.
July 23
rd
, 1904: Unexpurgated Case Report submitted by Admiral Smythe. Re: Action Taken with Respect to Death of Bernice Balder For Internal distribution only
As per my report dated September 3
rd
1903, W. and I have become increasingly concerned about the risks to British colonial interests posed by the widespread dissatisfaction with wages and standards of living by Indian indentured labourers working on sugar plantations in Guyana. The death of six Indians in an incident on Plantation Friends in May of 1903 only served to compound our concerns and raise questions about the possible implications of the death of the wife of a leading agitator, Bernice Baldeo. Mrs. Baldeo had come to the gold fields in early ’04, ostensibly to meet with representatives of the Imperial Diamond and Gold Mining Company (IDGM Co.) regarding employment opportunities for free emigrant Indian labour. W. and I long suspected, however, that Mrs. Baldeo’s presence reflected a wider interest by local agitators in understanding the nature and extent of IDGM Co.’s holdings in the area.
After her body was discovered in the waters of the Mazaruni river below the Aruwai falls, W. and I took swift action to suppress all information in relation to Mrs. Baldeo’s death to ensure local sensitivities were not aroused. In particular, any possible connection to IDGM Co. or its activities were strenuously denied.
A coronial inquiry was, nevertheless, undertaken by the local authorities and the cause of death determined to be cyanide poisoning, the source of which was never identified. While some of the preliminary operations undertaken by IDGM Co. experimented with using gold cyanidation, no link has been established between the victim’s death, this company’s mining endeavors, or the actions of any of IDGM Co.’s officers or representatives.
Given sensitivity over colonial relations with emigrant Indian labour as well as the native populace, I authorized W. to persuade the local authorities that there was insufficient evidence upon which any arrests (or further inquiries) could be made. All further investigations were therefore halted and any link to our operations (or those of IDGM Co.) in Guyana expunged from the files. W. is to be commended for both his discretion and his attention to detail.
Three typed postscripts were added at the bottom of the report, dated December 1905.
*A strike at the Plantation Ruimveldt has spread to sugar estates on the Eastern Bank of the Demerara river.
**A stevedore strike in Georgetown prompted rioting and looting, the death of at least eight strikers, and the arrival of two British warships carrying troops.
***To date no mention of the Baldeo investigation has surfaced despite continued worker unrest.
On the final page was a postscript dated October 1
st
1907, in the same detached official tone.
W. is once again to be commended for his handling of the legal case,
El Dorado Investments v. The Imperial Gold and Diamond Mining Company
, and has given all necessary assurances regarding the ongoing need for secrecy. Following W.’s successful defense of the plaintiff’s appeal, The Imperial Gold and Diamond Mining Company filed for bankruptcy and ceased all operations in Guyana in 1907.
W. confirms that all company records have been destroyed.
Ursula set the case report aside and started reading extracts from the police report on Bernice Baldeo’s death. She could not determine whether these were pages from the original report or whether they had been transcribed; she suspected the latter as the pages included photographs that had been adhered using some kind of brittle brown glue.
She read the report with a growing sense of dismay. Had Lord Wrotham really been privy to the suppression of a murder investigation in Guyana?
Interviews with witnesses revealed that Mr. F McTiernay was last seen with the deceased on the evening of July 6
th
, 1904. Witnesses report hearing an argument around 10:00pm and Mr. McTiernay was seen leaving Mrs. Baldeo’s campsite at around quarter past that hour. Witnesses also report heated discussions between Messrs. McTiernay, Wrotham and Smythe in the early hours of July 7
th
.
At the request of British authorities no further witness statements were obtained in relation to the events of the evening of July 6
th
. Assurances were given regarding Mr. McTiernay’s whereabouts between midnight and four in the morning—the time period corresponding to the time that the coroner estimated death to have occurred.
Assurances were also provided by a representative from The Imperial Gold and Diamond Mining Company, Count von Bernstorff-Hollweg, that cyanide was not utilized in the gold extraction process used by the company.
All matters relating to this case now referred to the Governor’s office under the direction of Lord Wrotham, Esq.
The photographs were grainy and misty age but Ursula could make out a waterfall and the dark outline of the jungle beyond. At the top of the first photograph she recognized Lord Wrotham’s handwriting in ink:
Site where body of Bernice Baldeo discovered
. Similarly on the next photograph he had written:
Body in situ
. All Ursula could make out in this photograph was the half submerged body of a woman. The final photograph showed native bearers carrying the body to shore. Four men were looking on. One she recognized as Fergus McTiernay from the photograph in Professor Prendergast’s office and the other was Admiral Smythe (although she needed to pull out the photograph she had brought back from Oxford to be sure). He certainly had the bearing of a naval officer despite the fact that he wore no uniform. The man standing next to him was possibly Count von Bernstorff-Hollweg for Ursula could detect a slight similarity in his features to that of the young Lord Wrotham standing beside him. It was the expression—or rather the lack thereof—on each of the men’s faces that struck Ursula. Admiral Smythe had a stoic grimness about him reminiscent of a stern preacher one might encounter at a nonconformist church. It had a haunted quality that disturbed her. Lord Wrotham’s face was as inscrutable as ever, shrouded in the shadow of the dark hair that fell across his temple. The Count, in contrast, seemed only mildly curious about the whole affair. He looked like the epitome of the continental gentleman abroad—from his neatly trimmed moustache and beard, to the monocle swinging from the fob chain on his waistcoat. Only Fergus McTiernay’s face betrayed any real depth of emotion. He was staring down with the stunned, hollowed eyed expression of one both horrified and stricken by what had occurred.
So this was the four men of Balliol, Ursula thought. The four men inextricably linked to a past Lord Wrotham had denied her access to. Although she was yet to understand the full implications of the file, she was determined to record a copy of all that she had read before returning it to Harrison. As she transcribed the file into her exercise book, she reached the words “W. is to be commended for both his discretion and his attention to detail,” and took pause. Were these just euphemisms for what really occurred in Guyana?