Authors: Rhys Bowen
He held out his arm to me. “I should probably be gentlemanly and escort you to the safety of the drawing room first, in case you faint or something.”
“Do I look as if I’m about to faint?” I asked.
“You look a little green,” he said, “but I expect I do too. At least he had the courtesy to wait until the meal was over before he died. I’d have hated to miss that wild boar.” And he gave me a grin that reminded me of a naughty schoolboy.
“I’m all right. I’ll find my own way,” I said. “I expect your brother would like to have you with him.”
Everyone was behaving with the greatest decorum, leaving the table quietly, some of them glancing across at the archway to the anteroom where Pirin’s feet could be seen sticking off the end of the couch. I heard my mother’s clear voice over the discreet murmur. “The way that man wolfed down his food and drink he was a heart attack waiting to happen.”
I wanted desperately to be with Darcy, but I couldn’t think of a good reason to intrude, as a mere guest at the castle. But I lingered as long as I dared until most of the company had passed through the big double doors and then slowly followed Anton toward the anteroom. As I neared the entrance of the anteroom I heard Lady Middlesex’s strident voice saying, “Heart attack, my foot. It is quite clear that the man was poisoned.”
Chapter 17
Bran Castle plus dead body
Still November 17
I needed no further reason to enter that room. After all, I had experienced more of my share of murder than most young women of my station in life. I was just about to follow Anton inside when Darcy came out, almost colliding with me.
“Hello,” he said. “I was just coming to find you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” I demanded.
“At the time of our last conversation I had no idea that you were planning to attend the wedding,” he said. “And your terrifying sister-in-law made it quite clear I was never to communicate with you again.”
“So when did you ever do what anyone told you?” I asked.
He smiled and I felt some of the tension of the past days melting away. Now that he was here I felt that I could tackle vampires, werewolves or brigands. I was brought back to frightening reality when Darcy pushed past me and grabbed the nearest footman who was starting to clear the table.
“No,” he said. “Leave it. Leave everything.” The servants looked up at him, confused and suspicious. Darcy poked his head back into the anteroom and beckoned to Dragomir. “I need your help right away,” he said. “I don’t speak Romanian or whatever they speak in these parts. Please tell the servants not to touch anything and to leave the table exactly as it is.”
Dragomir stared at him suspiciously. Darcy repeated the command in remarkably good French.
“May I ask what authority you have here? You are from the police, monsieur?” Dragomir asked.
“Let’s just say I have some experience in these matters and my one wish is that we handle this in a way that does not embarrass the royal houses of Romania or Bulgaria,” Darcy said. “The servants should not be told the truth at this point. This is a most delicate matter and is not to be spoken about, is that clear?”
Dragomir looked long and hard at him, then nodded and barked a command at the servants. The men hastily put down the plates they were collecting and stepped back from the table.
“Tell them that nobody else is to come into the dining room, and tell them I would like to speak to them shortly so they should not go anywhere.”
That command was also repeated, although in surly and unwilling fashion, and I saw inquiring glances directed at Darcy, who didn’t appear to notice.
“We should go back in there.” Darcy turned to me. “Nicholas will find himself in a pretty pickle, I’m afraid, if we don’t do something quickly.”
“Is it true, do you think?” I whispered to Darcy. “Was Field Marshal Pirin poisoned?”
“Absolutely,” Darcy said in a low voice. “All the signs point to cyanide. Flushed face, staring eyes.”
“He always had a flushed face,” I said.
“And the unmistakable smell of bitter almonds,” Darcy finished. “That’s why it’s important that nothing is touched on that table.”
With that he stepped back into the anteroom with me at his heels. Field Marshal Pirin’s body lay on the couch exactly as Darcy had described him, his face bright red and his eyes open and bulging horribly. He was a big man and the couch was delicate gilt and brocade so that his feet hung over the end and one arm was dangling to the floor. I shuddered and forced myself not to turn away. The other occupants of the room appeared to be frozen in a tableau around the body: Nicholas staring down at Pirin, Anton standing behind Nicholas while Lady Middlesex and Miss Deer-Harte hovered near Pirin’s highly polished boots. Miss Deer-Harte looked as if she wanted to do nothing more than escape.
“You must telephone for the police at once,” Lady Middlesex said. “There is a murderer in our midst.”
“Impossible, madam,” Dragomir said, reappearing behind us. “The telephone line has come down with all this snow. We are cut off from the outside world.”
“And there is not a police station within reach to which you could send a man?”
“A man could probably go on skis over the pass,” Dragomir said, “but I advise that we should not summon the police, even if we could, before Their Majesties have been told.”
“But there has been a murder,” Lady Middlesex said. “We need someone who can find the culprit before he gets away.”
“As to that, madam,” Dragomir said, “anyone who tried to leave the castle would not get far in snow like this. Besides, there is only one way out of the castle and a guard is at the gate at all times.”
“Then for heaven’s sake make sure the guard knows that nobody is to leave,” Lady Middlesex said angrily. “Really, you foreigners. Too slipshod in everything.”
“Lady Middlesex, I’m sure Prince Nicholas would appreciate it if you didn’t broadcast the facts all over the castle at the moment,” Darcy said. “I assure you that we will do everything in our power to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. And nobody is going to be slipshod.”
“And you are . . . ?” she asked, turning to focus on him. If she’d had a lorgnette she would have stared at him through it. One almost expected her to utter the words “a handbag?”
“He is my groomsman and good friend Darcy O’Mara, Lord Kilhenny’s son,” Nicholas said shortly. “A good man to have around if you’re in trouble. He was at school with me—the backbone of our rugby team.”
“Oh, well, in that case.” Lady Middlesex was quite happy now. Anyone who was the backbone of an English public school rugby team had to be all right. “So what do you want us to do?”
“I’ve told the servants not to touch the table,” Darcy said. “One of the first things is to have the cause of death confirmed by a competent physician. I don’t suppose there is one of those within reach, is there?” He repeated the question in French.
Dragomir shook his head.
“Then we must find out how the poison was administered. I don’t suppose we have any scientific testing at our disposal?”
“I believe you need iron sulfate; that turns cyanide Prussian blue,” Anton said, then again he gave that boyish smirk. “So you see, big brother, I did learn a thing or two at university. I’m not sure what iron sulfate is used for—something to do with woodworking or steelworking I believe. So possibly there may be some stored in the castle outbuildings or the forge or something. We could ask Siegfried and Maria.”
“No,” Nicholas said shortly. “I’d much rather they didn’t know yet. Not until I’ve thought things through.”
“Too bad they no longer have a royal food taster at your disposal,” Darcy said, then he saw Miss Deer-Harte’s shocked face and laughed. “It was an attempt at humor,” he said.
“There may be some animals on which we could test various foods,” Dragomir said. “I can send a servant to see if any stable cats have had a litter of kittens recently.”
“Oh, no,” I interrupted hastily, “you’re not going to poison kittens. That’s too horrible.”
“You English with your sentimental attachment to animals,” Dragomir said, then he appeared to be aware of me for the first time. “Lady Georgiana. It is not seemly that you should be here. Please return to the other ladies in the drawing room.”
“I asked her to be here,” Darcy said. “Believe it or not she has also had some experience with this kind of thing. And she’s a good head on her shoulders.”
Of course I blushed stupidly as they looked at me.
“First things first,” Nicholas said. “You must understand that this is a very delicate situation for us and one that could have serious ramifications if the news leaked out. Pirin was a powerful man in my country. It was only his influence at court that kept a whole province from breaking away. If word gets out that he’s been murdered—why, we could have a civil war on our hands by the end of the week, or, worse still, Yugoslavia could decide this would be an opportune moment to annex our Macedonian province. So I would prefer it that the true circumstances not be made known outside of this room.”
“In that case we should let it be generally thought that he died of a heart attack,” Darcy said. “We can’t bring him back to life but I presume it was well known that he liked his food and drink, so his death will come as no great surprise.”
“That was the general consensus of opinion as we were leaving the dining room anyway,” I chimed in. “If nobody else overheard Lady Middlesex then I don’t think you’ll have much trouble with convincing everyone that he died of a heart attack.”
“That’s certainly helpful,” Nicholas agreed.
Anton said nothing. He was still staring at the body in fascination and revulsion. Suddenly he looked up, his clear blue eyes fastening on his brother’s. “I don’t think anyone should be told that he’s dead before Papa finds out,” Anton said. “We should keep up the pretense that he’s gravely ill until our parents get here.”
Nicholas frowned. “I don’t know if we can do that,” he said. “I’m sure some of the servants overheard this lady’s outburst.”
“One assumes they don’t speak English,” Darcy said.
“Another thing you should consider,” Anton said, still looking directly at his brother, “is that Papa may well want to call off the wedding.”
“Call off the wedding, why?” Nicholas asked.
“Think about it, Nick. He will want to make a grand show of mourning for Pirin—to let our Macedonian brothers know how highly he regarded him. It would be most unseemly to have any kind of festivities during such a solemn time.”
“Oh, damnation, you’re right,” Nicholas said. “That’s exactly what he’ll want to do. And Romania could take it as a slight if we postpone the wedding. And think of the expense—we’ve already invited all the crowned heads of Europe to the ceremony back home in Sofia. And poor Maria. She’s so looking forward to her big day. What a horrible mess. Trust Pirin to get himself poisoned at the most inopportune moment.”
“What we have to do is keep up the pretense,” Anton said, warming to his subject now and strolling past the corpse. “We’ll let Papa know that Pirin is ill, but he shouldn’t find out that he’s dead until we’ve had the wedding ceremony.”
Nicholas gave a nervous laugh. “And exactly how are we going to do that? He’ll want to visit the sickroom, I’m sure.”
“Then Pirin will be sleeping. In a kind of coma maybe.”
“He looks dead, Anton, and in case you haven’t noticed, he’s not breathing.”
“We’ll have to have someone hidden behind the curtains and snoring for him,” Anton said. “We can do it, Nick. We can pull it off at least until Papa realizes it’s too late to call off the wedding.”
“You know how thorough Papa is. He’ll want to summon his own doctor.”
“It will take several days to get him from Sofia.”
“He’ll at least want to know that a doctor has been consulted,” Nicolas insisted.
“Then one of us will have to play the part. Darcy, perhaps.”
“He’s met me before,” Darcy said. “He could have just missed the doctor who has been called out to a confinement in the mountains.”
Nicholas laughed again. “You are turning this whole thing into a farce. It can’t work. You know what court life is like. It will probably be all around the castle by morning that he’s dead. Servants will come into his room—and who knows when Papa will get here? We can’t leave a corpse lying around for days, you know. He’ll begin to smell.”
“How revolting,” Lady Middlesex said.
Nicholas looked up at her, I think just realizing that strangers were present at what was a very private discussion. “We have no guarantee that the people in this room will not say the wrong thing.”
“Unfortunately we all know the truth,” Darcy said. “You can count on Georgie and me. That leaves Dragomir and the ladies. I’m sure Dragomir wants what is best for his princess and for Romania, but you may have to lock away the ladies until after the ceremony. There are plenty of dungeons here, aren’t there?”
“Lock us away? Are you out of your mind, young man?” Lady Middlesex demanded, while Miss Deer-Harte whimpered the word “dungeons?”
“Then they must swear not to divulge anything they have overheard. I’m sure we can trust the word of the wife of a British high commissioner.”
“You most certainly can,” Lady Middlesex said.
“I must have the word of every one of you here that nothing that has been discussed in this room is ever repeated to anyone else,” Nicholas said solemnly. “The future of my country is at stake. Can I trust you? Do I have your word?”
“I’ve already said you have mine,” Darcy said. “I don’t see how you’re going to pull this off, but I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”
“Mine too,” I said.
“Very well,” Nicholas said. “And you, ladies?”
Lady Middlesex frowned. “I would normally not agree to go along with any kind of subterfuge or underhand behavior, but I can see the ramifications could be most difficult for your country, so yes, you have my word. Besides, Miss Deer-Harte and I shall be leaving as soon as transportation can be provided for us over the pass. I am expected by my husband in Baghdad.”
“And I can be trusted to hold my tongue,” Miss Deer-Harte said. “I have a long history of living in other people’s houses and of hearing things not meant for my ears.”
Nicholas looked at Count Dragomir. “And you, my lord steward. For the good of our two countries and the happiness of your princess?” Nicholas said to him, holding out his hand. Dragomir nodded and reached out his own hand. “I shall not let you down, Highness. However, I should like to choose a couple of my most trusted servants to be in the know and ready to assist us, should the need arise.”