Late for the Wedding (28 page)

“Yes,” Anthony said.

Priscilla went very still. “You’re quite certain that it was his right hand?”

“Flung out to the side beside his head.” Dominic demonstrated by holding up his own right hand. “Like this.”

Emeline looked at Priscilla and saw evidence of the same shocked comprehension that was sweeping through her.

“Oh, dear,” Priscilla said. “Something is very wrong here.”

Tobias ran his finger once again along the list of transactions that Swaine had made the day of the house party at Beaumont Castle. Again he stopped cold midway down the page.

He studied the wig-maker’s brief notation concerning one particular sale as intently as though it had been written down in a secret code. He knew how Alexander must have felt when he finally gave up trying to untie the Gordian knot and took a sword to the problem.

“Yes.” He closed the journal of accounts and got to his feet. A great sense of impending doom descended on him. “Of course.”

He heard footsteps pounding in the hall just as he reached for his coat. Anthony had not run through the house like that since he was a youngster. There was someone else with him. Dominic, no doubt. Those two were rapidly becoming inseparable.

The door of the study burst open. Anthony and Dominic rushed into the room looking like two tubes of fireworks ready to explode.

“Tobias, he was left-handed,” Anthony shouted.

“Emeline and Priscilla are sure of it.” Dominic slammed to a halt. “They spent an entire afternoon with him when he curled their hair, and they remember very clearly that Mr. Pierce was left-handed.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Tobias opened the desk and took out his pistol. “Your information conforms with my own memory. I recall that when he handed Mrs. Lake his business card, Pierce used his left hand. No, the hairdresser did not commit suicide. He was murdered, just as Zachary Elland was murdered three years ago.”

“Where are you going?”

“To continue my investigation.” He came around the edge of the desk and strode toward the door. “This matter is far from finished. I need your assistance once again.”

“Of course,” Anthony said.

“What do you want us to do?” Dominic asked.

The shock of the sobering events of last night was wearing off rapidly, Tobias thought. Perhaps both of them were, indeed, cut out for this line of work.

“Where are Miss Emeline and Miss Priscilla?”

“We left them in the lemonade shop.”

“Go back and collect them immediately. Escort them to Mrs. Lake’s house.” Tobias walked swiftly along the hall. “Stay there with them, and do not let any of the ladies out of your sight until I come to tell you that they are safe.”

Whitby, a stoic expression on his face, already had the front door open. Tobias went through it and down the steps to the street.

“What is it?” Dominic was hard on his heels. “Do you have reason to believe that they may be in danger?”

“Yes,” Tobias said. “Mrs. Lake most of all.”

The old man looked up at the woman who had stopped in front of his bench.

“There is nothing lovelier than the sight of a beautiful woman in the park on a sunny day,” he murmured.

“I doubt that you have been capable of doing anything more than look at a woman in several decades, old man,” she said coldly.

He shrugged. “I still have a few dreams.”

“They are no doubt as tired and faded as you are.”

“You may be right. My doctor tells me that I have only six months. A bad heart, you see.”

Aspasia Gray reached into her reticule and removed a pistol. “In that case, I’m sure you will not mind doing a lady one last favor before you cock up your toes.”

Lavinia pulled open the last drawer in the back of the large wardrobe and saw the blond wig. Satisfaction blazed through her.

“I knew it had to be here somewhere.”

The wig alone hardly constituted proof of murder, she reminded herself. She needed more evidence, preferably something that would link Aspasia to the events of the past. But the false hair was most certainly a start. She could not wait to tell Tobias.

At that moment she heard the muffled sound of the front door opening downstairs.

Her palms tingled. For a second or two she could not move or breathe.

With an effort, she broke through the paralyzing fear. She jerked back out of the wardrobe and turned quickly toward the door. Whoever had just come into the house had entered through the front hall. If she moved quietly, she could retreat the same way she had come, down the back stairs.

She crossed the carpet and paused at the doorway to listen.

“I am well-aware that you are up there, Lavinia,” Aspasia called from the foot of the master staircase. “Come out at once or I will lodge a bullet in the old man’s head. That should take care of his faded dreams once and for all, don’t you agree?”

A queasy, weightless feeling seized Lavinia. Aspasia had taken the old man hostage.

“I knew from the start of this affair that you would likely make things difficult,” Aspasia said. “You never cared much for me, did you? That is why I set a pair of street boys to keep an eye on you today, even though the affair of the Memento-Mori Man was supposedly over. When they saw you leave the shop and start toward my house, they came to tell me.”

She sounded closer now. Lavinia heard heavy, muffled footsteps and realized that Aspasia was forcing the old man up the stairs.

She took off her silver pendant. Holding the end of the chain in one hand, she stepped out into the hall and went slowly forward to stand overlooking the railing.

When she looked down, her fears were confirmed. Aspasia and the old man were halfway up the staircase. She had a pistol leveled at his temple.

The old man was breathing heavily. The air rasped in his lungs. He grasped the railing in one hand and clung to his walking stick with the other.

He paused and looked up at Lavinia. “Forgive me, my dear,” he managed between labored gasps.

“Let him go, Aspasia.” Lavinia moved her hand slightly, letting the silver Minerva pendant catch the light streaming in through the high windows that illuminated the stairwell. “He cannot hurt you.”

Aspasia was amused. “Of course he cannot hurt me. But he is useful at the moment. I have learned a great deal about you in recent days, you see. You have much in common with Tobias. You both have a noble streak. Neither of you would allow another to die in your place while you fled to safety.”

“I am not fleeing, Aspasia.” Lavinia let the pendant dangle with what she hoped appeared to be a supremely casual lack of concern, as though she did not even recall holding it in her hand. But she made certain that it glinted and glittered in the sun. “See? I am standing right here. You can let him go.”

“Not yet.” Aspasia frowned at the pendant and then shook her head once, as though the sight of the gently swinging silver confused her. She prodded the old man with the pistol. “Not until we are closer. Pistols are so very unreliable at this distance, you see.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Lavinia asked. “Indeed, you are an expert. How many people have you murdered, Aspasia?”

“Counting the deaths that Zachary and I plotted together?” Aspasia laughed lightly. “Thirteen in all.”

“An unlucky number,” the old man wheezed.

“Quiet, you fool.” Aspasia pushed the nose of the pistol against the side of his head. “Or I will pull the trigger now.”

“No.” Lavinia leaned out over the railing and swung the pendant steadily. “Aspasia, look at me. Listen to me. He has nothing to do with this matter. You can let him go.”

“My advice is to run.” The old man halted once more on the stairs, clutching the banister for support, and drew another ragged breath. “She’s got only the one pistol, I believe. In the time it takes her to reload after she shoots me, you will be able to escape.”

“I warned you to be quiet, old man.” Aspasia raised the pistol and made to strike him with the handle.

“You shot the hairdresser last night, didn’t you?” Lavinia asked quickly, hoping to distract her.

“Yes.” Aspasia lowered the hand holding the pistol, frowning intently at the glittering pendant. “I had no choice. He was blackmailing me. I was to leave the first of what he no doubt intended to be many payments in a small lane off Bond Street. As if I were one of his
clients,
if you can imagine.”

Lavinia saw a shadow shift in the hall below the staircase. Her first thought was that it was a trick of the light. Nevertheless, her spirits lifted a little.

It was suddenly vital to keep Aspasia talking.

“Why was Mr. Pierce blackmailing you?” she asked. The pendant continued to sway in a gentle arc. “What did he know about you?”

Aspasia gave her a dazzling smile. “You mean you haven’t reasoned it out yet? You disappoint me, Mrs. Lake. I not only became Zachary’s lover, I also became his partner.”

Lavinia was stunned. “His
partner
?”

“Why do you find that so odd? You and Mr. March are partners, are you not? Unfortunately, Zachary kept some of his secrets to the end. Evidently he took the precaution of writing a letter. In it he confided the nature of my connection to some of his business affairs. For some reason that I do not understand, the letter must have disappeared for a time. But it somehow found its way into someone’s hands quite recently.”

“Why did Elland make you his partner?”

Aspasia smiled coldly. “Because he loved me and because he recognized a kindred spirit.”

“Tobias was right in that regard.”

“Do you know, Zachary rather enjoyed his role as the daring spy. I think he actually considered himself something of a hero. But unfortunately, that sort of thing rarely pays well. In fact, it did not pay at all. So Zachary continued to ply his trade while he worked for Crown and Country.”

“You assisted him?”

“He enjoyed teaching me his craft, and I discovered that I loved the thrill of the business. There is no drug or elixir quite like the rush of intense excitement that comes with the kill. There is such a feeling of
power
. You cannot even imagine the sensation unless you experience it yourself.”

“But if you loved him and you were partners, why in heaven’s name did you kill him?” Lavinia demanded.

“Zachary began to revel far too much in the games he played with March. In his mind, they were two consummate chess players engaged in the ultimate match. But I could see that March was closing in rapidly. I insisted we get rid of him. Zachary and I quarreled over the matter. He would not listen to me. He was so sure that he could continue to outfox his pursuer. He had a strange obsession with March. I think he wanted to prove to himself that he was the superior hunter.”

“But you knew that it was only a matter of time before Tobias had him taken up on charges of murder, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I also knew that when that happened, the truth about my connection to some of the deaths would come out. I thought about trying to kill Tobias myself, but in the end I decided that it would be simpler and ever so much safer to get rid of Zachary.”

“When it was finished, you moved to Paris.”

“I thought it best to leave England for a time.” Aspasia smiled. “I wanted to give Tobias a chance to forget any nagging questions that might lead him to me. Then, about two months ago, I returned to London to resume my life.”

“And your career as a murderess as well?”

“For me, it is a sport, not a profession,” Aspasia said. “I went hunting on several occasions in Paris and had planned to continue the pastime here in London. I find my little adventures a very effective tonic for ennui. But the morning of Beaumont’s house party, I received the first blackmail note and that bloody ring.”

Understanding struck Lavinia quite forcefully. “You did not know who the blackmailer was, though, did you? So you employed Tobias to find him for you.”

“We each have our talents. I am expert at making the kill, but I admit I have no particular skill for the investigation business.”

“What happened last night?” Lavinia asked.

“After you identified Pierce as the killer, I set some street boys to watch his lodgings for me. The same urchins who followed you today, as a matter of fact. In any event, when Pierce left to carry out his commission, they came to tell me. I went directly to his rooms to search for Zachary’s letter.”

“But you did not find it.”

“No. I found a safe in the floor, but it was empty. I decided to wait for Pierce. I intended to try to force him to tell me the location of the letter. I hid in the wardrobe. When he arrived, I could hear him breathing hard and I knew at once that something had happened. I watched through the crack in the door and saw him unlock a second hidden safe. That was all I needed. When he opened the door of the wardrobe, I shot him, took the letter, and left.”

The old man was slumped heavily against the banister, still struggling to breathe. The shadows in the hall shifted again. Lavinia saw Tobias emerge and move toward the foot of the staircase. He held a pistol in his hand.

“You made a couple of mistakes along the way, Aspasia,” he said.

“Tobias.”
Aspasia turned slightly, eyes widening in shock. “How did you—”

What happened next occurred in the wink of an eye. The old man straightened with the speed of a striking viper. He lashed out with the walking stick in a short, brutal arc that caught Aspasia at the back of her head with a sickening thud.

She toppled forward in a curiously slowed motion. The pistol in her hand exploded harmlessly, filling the hall with thunder, smoke, and the smell of burning gunpowder.

She fell headfirst down the staircase, thumping horribly against each step. Tobias had to put his back to the wall to avoid being struck by her.

Lavinia was so transfixed by the sight of Aspasia’s hurtling body that she did not even notice the old man climbing swiftly up the staircase until he reached the landing and paused beside her.

“You, Mrs. Lake, are the stuff of dreams.” He smiled. “If I were even thirty years younger, I assure you that this matter would end in an entirely different fashion.”

She stared at him, speechless.