Don't Look Back (10 page)

"What did you tell him?" Tobias asked.

"What could I say?" Howard spread his hands. "I explained that I knew nothing about the Medusa. I don't think that he believed me, but he warned me that I am in grave danger, regardless of whether or not I told him the truth."

"Why are you in danger?" Lavinia asked.

"Nightingale said now that word has gone out that the cameo is floating around somewhere in the underworld, any number of collectors will be searching for it. Some, he says, are extremely dangerous men who will stop at nothing to obtain what they desire. He... he likened them to sharks in the water circling a sinking ship. He said that I was in the position of the sole survivor clinging to the wreckage."

"He tried to frighten you," Lavinia said.

"And succeeded rather well, I must tell you." Howard seemed to fall into himself. "Nightingale claimed that the only safe course of action was to deliver the relic to him immediately. He promised to make it worth my while. But I cannot possibly do that because I do not have it."

There was a short silence while they all contemplated that news.

Tobias shifted position a little, propping one shoulder against the windowsill and folding his arms. "What else do you know about this antiquity?"

Howard did not look at him. He continued to focus his gaze on Lavinia. She did her best to appear encouraging and sympathetic.

"I've never seen the damned thing," Howard said. "I can only tell you what Nightingale told me. He referred to it as the Blue Medusa. The name is no doubt due to the peculiar color of the stone."

"Medusa," Tobias repeated thoughtfully. "A once beautiful woman with glorious hair who managed to offend Athena and got herself turned into a hideous monster for her efforts. She became one of the three Gorgons."

"The one whose gaze turned men to stone," Lavinia said.

"No man could slay her because to look at her was to die. She was eventually killed by Perseus, who— rather cleverly, I always thought—backed toward her while she slept, using his shield as a mirror to reflect her image. That way he did not have to look directly at her while he hacked off her head."

"Not what one would consider a particularly charming image for an item of fashionable jewelry," Howard muttered.

"Actually, Medusa was a very common theme for ancient jewelers," Lavinia said. "I saw any number of old rings and pendants set with Medusa-head cameos while I was in Italy. Her image was believed to be able to ward off evil."

"Turn your enemy or the source of a threat to stone, hmm?" Tobias shrugged. "There is a certain logic to that thinking."

Howard cleared his throat. "Mr. Nightingale told me that the cameo in this particular bracelet is a unique version of Medusa. It is believed to be the emblem of some ancient, obscure cult that flourished in secret for a time here in England. In addition to the familiar figure of a woman's head with staring eyes and snakes twisting in her hair, there is a small rod or wand carved into the stone beneath the severed throat."

"Did Mr. Nightingale tell you anything else about the relic?" Lavinia asked.

Howard furrowed his brow. "I believe he said that the bracelet itself is fashioned of gold of a very pure and excellent quality that has been pierced in any number of places to create a distinctive pattern of intertwined snakes."

"Pierced work," Lavinia said softly.

Tobias glanced at her. "You have seen such antiquities?"

"Yes. I saw a pair of gold bracelets in Italy that had been worked in such a fashion. Several gemstones of various colors were set into them. They had been discovered in a tomb, together with some coins from the fourth century. Quite incredibly beautiful, I must say. The piercing created a pattern of twisting leaves that was so fine and delicate it looked like so much gold lace."

Howard continued to watch her as though she was his only source of hope. "I can tell you nothing more about the Blue Medusa. Nightingale claims Celeste was killed because of it. But I do not believe that. At least, not entirely."

"What do you think happened?" Tobias asked.

"I have spent hours pondering the circumstances of her death," Howard admitted sadly. "I have come to the reluctant conclusion that, although my Celeste was, by nature, no thief, she was young and impulsive. She may have been led astray by her lover."

Lavinia stilled. "Are you saying that you think her lover persuaded her to steal the bracelet for him and then murdered her?"

"It is the only explanation that makes any sense to me." Howard clenched one hand into a fist and rested it on his thigh. "I believe that the bastard arranged to meet Celeste the night before last. He no doubt instructed her to bring the bracelet to the rendezvous. My sweet, innocent Celeste went to meet him in the middle of the night, and the monster strangled her with his cravat and stole the bracelet."

Lavinia glanced at Tobias to see how he was reacting to the theory. He appeared lost in thought. Or perhaps that was boredom she saw on his hard face. With him, one could not always be certain of the distinction, she reflected.

She turned back to Howard. "I am so terribly sorry for your loss."

"Lavinia, you must help me." Howard reached out abruptly and took her hands in his. "I do not know where else to turn. You say that you are in the business of making private inquiries. I wish to employ you to find the man who killed my Celeste."

"Howard—"

"Please, my dear friend. Nightingale warned me that I myself am in danger, but I care nothing for my own safety in this matter. I seek justice for my dear wife. You cannot deny me. I beg you to help me find her murderer."

"Yes, of course, we will help you, my friend," Lavinia said.

Tobias's expression sharpened without warning. He dropped his arms and straightened away from the windowsill. "Lavinia, we must discuss this matter before we accept the commission."

"Rubbish," she said. "I have already decided to accept it. You may join me as my partner in the affair or you may decline. That is your choice, naturally."

"Bloody hell," Tobias said.

"Thank you, my dear." Howard raised Lavinia's hands and kissed them. "Words cannot express my gratitude."

Tobias watched him in the manner of a hawk watching a mouse. "Speaking of expressing your gratitude, Hudson, there is the small matter of our fee."

"Money is no obstacle," Howard assured him.

"Always nice to hear that," Tobias said.

"I don't like this case, Lavinia."

"Yes, I can see that you do not approve, sir. Indeed, you have already made your feelings on the subject abundantly clear. You were nothing short of rude to Howard."

She swept into the small study, went directly behind her desk, and sat down. For some odd reason that she had yet to fathom, it was always easier to discuss unpleasant topics with Tobias when she put the large block of mahogany between them.

She refused to admit to herself that he could be
intimidating,
but there was no getting around the fact that he was quite capable of exhibiting a formidable strength of will and a certain forcefulness of mind that would make any prudent person cautious.

Here in her study, enthroned behind the big desk, she was in command, she told herself. Most of the time.

"I will be blunt." He gripped the edge of the mantel and used it to lower himself down into a crouch in front of the hearth. "I don't trust Hudson."

She watched him light the fire, aware that he always favored his left leg, even on good days, when he undertook the small task. She opened her mouth to inquire about the old wound but managed to swallow the words before they could escape. He would not thank her for the sympathy, especially not while he was in this mood.

She folded her hands on top of the desk. "You have allowed your negative feelings concerning mesmerists in general to influence your opinion of Howard. It is really very closed-minded of you, sir."

He concentrated on the flames he had coaxed forth. "Hudson did not tell us the whole truth."

She raised her eyes to the ceiling in silent entreaty. There was no help from above, however.

"Yes, yes," she said, not bothering to conceal her impatience. "I am very well aware that, in your professional opinion, the client
always
lies, but I do not see why you should apply that narrow and somewhat misguided theory to Howard. He is obviously a desperate and distraught man whose only wish is to find his wife's killer."

"I do not think that we can assume for one moment that he wants her murderer found."

She stared at him, shocked. "What on earth do you mean? Of course he wants the villain discovered."

"I think it is far more likely that what Hudson wants is the missing bracelet."

Her first thought was that she had not heard him aright. "
I
beg your pardon?
Are you saying that you do not believe that Howard wants his wife's killer found?"

"I do not doubt but that he wants us to find her lover." Tobias tightened his grip on the mantel and levered himself upright. "Because he believes that the lover has the bracelet."

"Tobias, you are not making sense. The lover is also the murderer."

"Not necessarily."

He went to the window and stood looking into the tiny garden behind the house. "In my
professional
opinion, I believe that it is quite likely that Dr. Howard Hudson is the person who murdered Celeste."

She was stunned by the certainty of his words. It took her a few seconds to find her voice.

"Are you mad, sir?" she finally managed in a whisper.

"I know that you consider him an old friend of the family. But put aside your personal feelings and consider another possible version of events."

"What version is that?"

"Mine." Tobias did not turn around. "It goes like this. Hudson learns that his much younger and extremely attractive wife has betrayed him with another man. He cannot rest until he knows the identity of her lover. One evening he makes an excuse to attend a demonstration of mesmerism given by a competitor, but he leaves early. He returns to the house and follows his wife to her rendezvous. He finds her alone, perhaps waiting for her lover. In a rage, he confronts her. There is a terrible quarrel. He strangles her with his own cravat."

She drew a deep breath. "What of the lover?"

Tobias shrugged. "Perhaps he arrives at the scene in the midst of the quarrel, realizes that something has gone wrong, and flees before Hudson sees him. Perhaps he never shows up at all."

"But why would Howard murder Celeste? He loved her."

"We both know that love can turn to hate in a crucible that is heated with the fires of betrayal and rage."

She started to argue the point, but the memories of what she had learned in the course of their last case made her hesitate.

The tall clock ticked in the silence.

"I understand your concerns," she said at last. "Mind you, I do not believe for a moment that Howard killed Celeste, but I can see where a professional investigator who did not know him personally might consider the possibility."

"And I can comprehend your desire to believe that Hudson is honest and sincere. I know how much it means to you to reestablish your acquaintance with him. He is, after all, someone whom your parents considered a friend. He shares some of your own memories of happier days. He reminds you of a time when you were not so alone in the world."

Reluctantly, she admitted to herself that he had a point. It had been good to see her old family friend again, in large part because Howard was a link to her past. His presence brought back lingering traces of the warmth and the quiet security of the close-knit family life she had known when her parents had been alive. The world had seemed so much simpler in those days. The future had looked rosy and bright and free of dark clouds.

"It was certainly good to see Howard again after all these years," she said briskly. "But I do not think that the pleasure of renewing our acquaintance has blinded me to the facts. I know Howard better than you do, Tobias. He was never a man given to rages or fits of strong passion. Indeed, he was always a model of self-control. His is a scholarly nature. I never saw him exhibit any inclination toward violence."

"You knew him as a visitor in your parents' home. In my experience, people are generally on their best behavior under such circumstances." He did not take his eyes off the small garden. "You cannot possibly know his innermost thoughts. You cannot know him the way a wife would have known him."

She thought about that. "You have logic on your side."

He looked at her over his shoulder, one brow raised in mocking surprise. "You astound me, madam. I did not expect you to accept my opinions so readily."

"I did not say that I accepted them. In point of fact I disagree with them entirely. But I can now comprehend why you hold those views. Let us get to the meat of the matter. Would you prefer not to assist me in solving this case, Tobias?"

"Bloody hell."

He swung around with a suddenness that caused her to sit back very quickly in her chair.

"The only way I would abandon this investigation," he said, "would be if I could convince you to give it up. And I can see that is highly unlikely."

"Impossible, actually."

He covered the small space in less than a couple of heartbeats, leaned across the desk, and planted his big hands on top of some papers that cluttered the surface.

"Let us have one thing understood between us, Lavinia. I have no intention of allowing you to make inquiries on your own into a situation that involves murder."

"It is not your place to determine the sort of cases I choose to investigate."

"Damnation, if you think that I will let you risk your neck—"

"That is quite enough, sir." She shot to her feet. "You have always had the most annoying tendency to issue orders, but you have grown decidedly worse in that regard since the business of the waxwork murders. Indeed, you have become extremely overbearing of late, and I must tell you that it is not an attractive quality in a man."