Death in the Dark Walk (32 page)

The Frenchman returned his glance with grudging admiration. ‘It must have cost you dear to say that. I appreciate your courage.

John Fielding cleared his throat once more, and everyone looked at him.

‘It is my belief, based on the evidence to hand, that Eleanor went to Vaux Hall Pleasure Gardens purely by chance. Still dressed as a boy, she probably roamed the fashionable haunts of London in the hope of meeting her quarry and when she did acted both quickly and lethally, little guessing that Mr Rawlings, with his extraordinary pictorial memory, would take particular notice of an over-dressed apprentice lad and thus be her undoing. But, be that as it may, Eleanor Benbow saw her hated rival, followed her, perhaps even pretended to be attracted to her, then she took one of Lizzie's own stockings and strangled her with it.'

‘But, that once done, why did she come to the brothel to work?' asked Diana. ‘She must have known what happened to girls who took employment there.'

Mr Fielding shook his head. ‘London is a terrible city, as you well know, young woman. I think the poor creature went to the only place she could think of to get a job. It was probably that or starve. Anyway, we know that she took the name of Millie, a reference, no doubt, to the fact that she was a miller's daughter. Yet I am positive that, for all her murderous intent, the girl was none the less a naive soul and had no idea she would be expected, one day, to join the whores, nor that she would encounter Squire Leagrave.'

‘Gave me quite a shock, I can tell you,' Sir Ralph interjected. ‘I'd believed her dead along with everybody else. But I promised not to give her away and I didn't let her down.'

Samuel spoke again, still in the same terrible voice. ‘But none of this answers my question. Why did she pretend to love me? Just as a means to get out?'

‘I suppose,' said Mr Fielding with enormous command, ‘that it does not occur to you that she did love you? Just because she had committed herself to taking revenge on Elizabeth Harper, does not mean that Eleanor was incapable of other emotion.'

‘But she tried to kill John. She must have been thoroughly evil.'

‘On the contrary. Mr Rawlings was the one person who could have identified her as the murderer. It was an act of self-preservation to silence him.'

‘There's one thing I've got to know,' said the Duke of Richmond, his voice laconic despite the tense atmosphere. ‘When and how did our admirable friend guess who was behind it all?'

‘Not until tonight,' answered John, and there was a crack in his voice which suddenly revealed how completely exhausted he was.

‘Nuff said,' replied Richmond, holding up his hand. ‘I'll hear the story another time. I'm for my bed. I think we've trespassed on Mr Fielding's hospitality long enough.' He looked round the assembled company. ‘All to dine at my London house in a week, eh? Then we'll hear the rest of the tale.'

‘All?' repeated Diana. ‘Does that include me?'

‘Yes,' Richmond replied, with a grin. ‘That includes even you.'

They left in groups. Lucy and Giles with the air of those who have decided to wed; Richmond, Midhurst, James and Miss Rigby all in the same hackney, arranging to meet one another next day. Diana, already known to Squire Leagrave through the house in Leicester Fields, departing in fine fig, flirting with him for all she was worth. Only the Comte de Vignolles vanishing alone into the night, his unhappiness hanging round him like a pall.

‘My young friends,' said Mr Fielding, as he bade Joe Jago see John and Samuel into Sir Gabriel's waiting coach, ‘go home and rest and mend yourselves. I shall visit you both just as soon as you are restored. Send word when that time comes.'

Then he took John's hand and shook it before the two of them went their separate ways, the problem that had beset them both for so long, finally solved.

Strangely, John's stab wound, deep but not to the bone, mended more quickly than Samuel's broken heart. Aided by some ointment especially prepared by Master Purefoy, John's old teacher, his skin healed cleanly so that it was safe to remove the stitches that held it within a week. Samuel, however, with the delicate sensibilities of many a big man, languished like a lily until Sir Gabriel finally ordered him to go to his father in Islington in order to breathe in the sweet country air and recuperate.

‘I truly hadn't realised in quite what high regard he had held Millie,' John said sadly, watching his friend depart in a hired hackney.

Sir Gabriel smiled his worldly smile. ‘Neither did he until she was dead.'

‘Do you mean that, had she lived, he might have tired of her?'

‘There is no might about it, my son. Samuel would soon have grown bored with such a rural miss.'

‘You married one such and did not grow weary of her.'

‘Your mother was an exceptional woman and there will never be another like her, alas.'

‘Do you miss her terribly?'

‘Every day of my life. Yet she has come back to me in you, and thus the blow is softened.'

John looked at his father with affection and a certain shrewdness. ‘Tell me something, Sir. Did you guess about Millie? I suspect that you did.'

‘Oh yes, indeed. You suspect quite rightly.'

‘What? And you didn't warn me of what you feared?'

‘I was not certain enough to say anything. And, besides, I knew that you must be very near the solution yourself. For it was growing apparent, was it not?'

John looked thoughtful. ‘It must have been the most terrible shock to the poor wretch when I walked into the brothel and announced myself as a friend of Samuel's. What an evil twist of fate.'

Sir Gabriel nodded. ‘It gave her two reasons for wanting to kill you. For now you stood between her and her new love as well.'

‘I must have come to represent her Nemesis. Yet Millie couldn't have been responsible for breaking into my shop. Or could she?'

‘That we will never know. Perhaps she went there looking for evidence, perhaps it was the work of rowdies seeking potions.' Sir Gabriel sighed. ‘Tell me when you first suspected that the girl was not all she seemed.'

‘It was the attack in Leicester Fields that initially aroused my suspicions. You see, Millie said I let out a cry and she came running out of the brothel to see what was amiss. Yet I was so winded, so short of breath, that I could have sworn I did no more than groan as I fell.'

‘It was the night when I heard someone prowl the landing near your bedroom that convinced me,' answered Sir Gabriel, leading his son into the library where a tray of coffee lay awaiting them. ‘I knew full well that every window in the place was secure, yet still I heard a midnight walker.'

‘Was that why you insisted she come to Vaux Hall? So that I would see her in the right place and connect her face with that of the apprentice?'

Sir Gabriel's fine profile was etched against the light of the window. ‘My son, it was you who told her she must go, if you remember.'

‘Yes, but it was not until I was there, in situ as it were, that the last pieces of the puzzle slid into place.'

‘But slide they did, though too late to save you from her knife.'

‘Poor Millie, poor Eleanor,' John said sadly. ‘She could not have had much of a life when all's said and done.'

‘No,' answered Sir Gabriel softly, ‘yet perhaps in dying in the same way as her tragic Jemmy Groves, it ended just as she would have wished.'

Sitting in his study, Joe Jago at his side, the Blind Beak insisted that John should bare his arm that he might feel the extent of the wound and how well it had healed in the time since he had last seen him.

‘Yes, I'm afraid that will scar, my friend,' Mr Fielding said, when he had finished his careful examination.

‘It will give me character,' John answered cheerfully. ‘One day I shall recount the story to my grandchildren.'

‘Aye, and you might add that you joined, albeit temporarily, that band of Brave Fellows, known to the mob as the Beak Runners, who are the first proper squad of men whose full time employment is the keeping of the peace.'

‘I'm proud of that,' said John. ‘Yet not so proud that I stood still a moment and watched Millie die. For perhaps I could have saved her had my reactions been quicker.'

The Blind Beak shook his head. ‘Put such thoughts from your mind, Mr Rawlings. Tell me, was there not a boat moored in the inlet beneath Marble Hall?'

‘Yes, there was. Why?'

‘Eleanor had ample time to get in it and row herself across to the fields below Mill Bank. From there she could have vanished quite successfully. I doubt that anyone would ever have seen her again.'

‘Strangely, my father said that he thought she wanted to die.'

‘And you know it too. Now, cast such foolish notions aside.'

John nodded. ‘Yes. I will.'

The Principal Magistrate rumbled his melodious laugh. ‘Good. So tell me, what are your future plans?'

‘Soon I am going to apply to the Court of Assistants to be made free of the Society of Apothecaries.'

‘Well done, well done.' The Blind Beak stood up and held out his hand. ‘My heartfelt gratitude is yours but now, without a doubt, it is time for you to pursue your chosen career. I wish you well, my fine young friend.'

‘Goodbye, Sir,' said John, bowing to the Magistrate even though he could not see him.

John Fielding smiled as he took the Apothecary's hand in his own. ‘Goodbye is such a final word, don't you think? Shall we simply say
au revoir
?'

From the reign of Charles II onwards, coffee and chocolate house life had thrived in the metropolis, no meeting place being more fashionable than White's Chocolate House in St James's Street, where the
beau monde
assembled daily, and where young noblemen, according to the critics of the time, were fleeced and corrupted by gamesters and profligates. However, in 1736, White's had realised where its ultimate future lay and had been converted into an exclusive gambling club. The consequent increase in its popularity had made the search for new premises a pressing one, though so far with little success. Thus the place was always packed with players, winning and losing with equal
élan
. And never more so than on this hot summer's night when the heat from the company assembled within swept through the doors and out into the street beyond.

Stepping from his carriage, Sir Gabriel Kent delicately lifted a lace handkerchief to his nostrils and turned to his dinner guest, the Comte de Vignolles.

‘Damnable hot, don't you think, my dear fellow?'

‘Damnable,' replied the Frenchman, and smiled to himself at the eccentricities of the English who invited total strangers to dine on the strength of both having been involved in a murder enquiry.

‘I'd suggest we don't go in were it not for the fact that I have arranged to meet my son here.'

‘Oh,' said the Comte, his initial mistrust of John never having quite been dispelled.

‘But if you'd rather . . .'

‘No, no,' Louis answered, just a trifle impatiently. ‘Let us enter.'

‘I take it you're not a gambling man?'

‘No, to be honest with you, Sir Gabriel, I never set foot in such places. Thus it will be a most interesting experience.'

‘I'm sure it will,' the other replied quietly, and smiled behind his handkerchief.

‘Mon Dieu!' exclaimed Louis, he and his host having deposited their cloaks before walking into the famous room. ‘What a crowd!'

‘Yes, indeed. Various games of chance are being played at different tables, d'you see. There, it is faro. There, whist. Dice at the large central table. And there, my dear Comte, they are dealing quadrille. Shall we make up a set?'

Louis hesitated. ‘Surely that would be a mistake. That woman wearing a mask is considered the most formidable gamester in London.'

‘Really? But that is my son sitting with her! I must go to his rescue at once. Come.'

And refusing to be crossed and behaving in quite the most curious manner, Sir Gabriel seized his guest by the arm and led him to the table at which sat the Apothecary, looking decidedly anxious at being placed with so notorious a player.

John rose as the Comte approached. ‘My dear Monsieur, a very good evening to you. I am glad you decided to come. It is my wish to make amends for any upset I caused in the past, albeit inadvertently. So, I cannot tell you how delighted I am that you accepted my father's invitation to dine.'

The Frenchman bowed with gallic courtesy. ‘My dear young friend, let bygones be bygones. I hope that we can begin our friendship afresh.'

‘Oh, so do I,' John answered enthusiastically, and his father shot him an unreadable glance.

‘Now, won't you present me to the lady?' the Comte continued.

John gave a crooked smile. ‘I would if I did but know her name. Nevertheless, Madam, may I introduce to you the Comte Louis de Vignolles. Monsieur le Comte, the Masked Lady.'

‘Enchanted,' he said, and kissed her outstretched hand.

‘How dee do?' she answered gruffly.

‘And now,' said Sir Gabriel, ‘to deal.' And he handed the pack to the Masked Lady, who cut the cards with her long white fingers.

There was silence while each player concentrated on their hand, then play began in earnest. Unfortunately, this seemed to be a signal for John to indulge in idle chatter, a fact which annoyed his companions considerably, all of whom were trying to concentrate on their game.

With a look of concern, the Apothecary turned to the Comte. ‘Monsieur, pray tell me, how is your wife these days?'

Louis flicked up a black eyebrow. ‘
Comme çi, comme ça
. Some days she seems a little better, on others she just takes to her couch and stays there.'

John looked disappointed. ‘What a pity. I thought my medicine had worked splendidly on her.'