Serpent in the Garden (47 page)

Lizzie’s face became a pale mask; her lips blanched, her eyes grew dull and gray as pewter. She shook her head dumbly, as if the accusation was so outrageous she hardly knew how to begin to refute it. But after a minute she fixed Joshua with a piercing stare, as if wordlessly challenging him to speak further.

The atmosphere became so strained that even Francis was unable to support it. He stepped forward and whispered something in Lizzie’s ear. Then he took her arm and tried to lead her away. She hung back, looking over her shoulder to issue a challenge to Joshua.

“If that is what you honestly believe, why don’t you have me apprehended?” she said.

“First, because although you had plenty of reasons to wish Cobb dead, and you have acted scandalously and led me a merry dance, I still have my doubts that you would stoop to killing Caroline. Second, because it is not my place to do so,” he replied promptly. “Nevertheless, I would ask Mr. Granger to escort you, together with the rest of your party, back indoors while I wait here for the arrival of Mr. Brown. When we have finished we will return to the house, where, if Mr. Bentnick so desires, I will inform him in person of my findings. What he does as a result of them is entirely his affair.”

Now, suddenly, she seemed to feel the import of Joshua’s words. She colored deeply. “Do you honestly think Herbert will give more credence to your testimony than to mine? Do you believe I was responsible for Hoare’s death and that of my dear friend Caroline? Why, I wasn’t even here at Astley when Hoare’s murder took place.”

As she spoke, her gestures grew increasingly animated; she broke free of Francis’s grip. At last here was some evidence that he had riled her as she had riled him. He felt a small but unmistakable thrill of vengeful satisfaction and gave her an inscrutable smile.

“In that case, you have nothing to fear. As I said, my mind is still unresolved. Nonetheless, you must comprehend why your conduct places you under suspicion. It would have been easy enough for you to come covertly and kill Hoare. After all, you live no distance from here, and if you were bent on murder, you would hardly wish to advertise your presence. And as for your credibility over mine, we will put it to the test very soon. In the meantime, if you truly wish to prove your innocence, I can think of no better way to do it than by cooperating with my request.”

Lizzie seemed to see the reason in this remark, for as suddenly as she had grown agitated she now grew calm and rational. Joshua observed her dispassionately. Her ability to alter and change at whim was an intrinsic part of her character, but was this the behavior of a vicious murderer?

Swiveling toward Granger, who was hovering nearby, Joshua said, “If you please, Mr. Granger, escort Miss Manning and the others back to the house. Send word to Mr. Bentnick that I beg leave to address him one final time. I will arrive as soon as I am able.”

Before they left, Joshua couldn’t help singling out Bridget, who all this while had waited in fidgety silence with a look of agitation on her face. “As for you, Miss Quick, I cannot think why you have come here, unless it is to make further mischief regarding the necklace, now you have learned it has been restored. I now know you deceived me over Crackman’s death, although I am baffled at the reason why. What is your interest in all of this? Did you hope to get your hands on the jewel? I wish you would tell me, for I have no notion.”

Bridget reddened; her eyes seemed larger than usual. “Then you are less perspicacious than I thought, Joshua. My interest has nothing to do with the necklace. My interest, and regard, lies with you.”

Joshua swallowed. He still smarted within. “Then your regard manifests itself most strangely.”

“Don’t dismiss me without at least hearing me out, Joshua. I came here now precisely because I wanted to straighten matters between us. I acted foolishly, I regret what I did, but I had your well-being at heart when I led you astray.”

“How did you know I had found you out?”

“This morning Crackman sent word demanding an explanation for my telling you he was dead and for keeping the truth about Nell Lambton from you.”

“Then perhaps you would be good enough to share that explanation with me. You cannot be surprised I feel irked by your underhandedness. Had I not called on Crackman myself, I would still be stumbling about in the dark, not knowing that Nell Lambton was the name of the claimant, Mercier’s daughter, or that she is now dead.”

Bridget blanched. “I repeat, I know now I was mistaken in my actions, but my motives weren’t malicious. I merely wanted to keep you in London. You have narrowly escaped one attempt on your life. Coming here again, you expose yourself to further danger. When Crackman told me Nell was dead, I meant to write to you directly with that information. But the more I thought about you and the recent assault on your life, the greater was my conviction that your life was in grave peril at Astley. If you learned Nell’s fate, you would know that the answers to the matter could have nothing to do with her, but must lie at Astley. And thus you would stay there longer and remain a target for the assailant. So I kept the news to myself. When my mother told me you had returned from Astley and as far as she knew had no plans to go back, you will well imagine that I was delighted. I thought then that you must somehow have resolved the matter, but at the same time my fears for your safety were not entirely allayed. I worried that if I told you Nell Lambton was dead, it might change your view of things, and you would want to return here to pursue your investigations. And so I wrote the letter in which I concocted the story of my visit to Crackman’s and how I learned of his demise. It seemed easier to write rather than face you with such deception, but I justified it by telling myself it was in your best interests.”

Joshua hesitated. He wanted to believe her, but after he had been so completely taken in, his trust was not entirely restored. “I am touched by your concerns for my safety, Miss Quick,” he said with feigned levity, “but I have no alternative now but to face the dangers, whatever they are. I suggest that you return with Mr. Granger and the others to the house, so that you at least will be protected from the perils that lurk here.”

Bridget hesitated, her mouth pursed and anxious. “Let me stay with you, Joshua, while you wait for Mr. Brown. Then you can say all you like to me and I will have a chance to further explain.”

“That’s out of the question …”

“Are you certain you won’t come with us, Mr. Pope?” said Granger, stepping forward and cutting in as if his patience was wearing thin.

“One moment, Granger, if you please,” said Joshua, closing his eyes and holding up his palms. Misgivings threatened to engulf him. He held them at bay, telling himself that what he had begun he couldn’t give up now. A cowardly part of him wished he were anywhere but in the grotto at Astley, with no easy means of escape, surrounded by hostile faces. But his bolder side remained confident that the final answers he sought lay just around the corner in what Brown would tell him.

Presenting an air of detachment, Joshua managed to make light of Granger’s offer. “Come with you—why? Are you afraid Miss Manning may assault you? If that is the case, fear not, Mr. Granger. Francis Bentnick will ensure she restrains herself.”

Granger shook his head. “My concerns have nothing to do with Miss Manning, whom I have always held in the highest regard. I am only uncertain of your purpose, sir. What would you have me say to Mr. Bentnick?”

“Say what I have told you to say. No more or less. I request Mr. Bentnick’s presence to explain all presently. Surely that can’t be too much to ask!”

Color flooded Granger’s cheeks. He flashed a glance toward Joshua that made his feelings quite plain. “Very well, sir, if that is your wish. May I remind you before I leave of the dangers of entering the tunnels in this weather. I told you of the accident in which two people—”

“You have warned me several times.”

Joshua was immovable, and Granger at last acknowledged that fact. He nodded curtly, doffed his hat, and led Lizzie and Francis away.

Joshua watched them clamber down the sloping track. Despite his request that she leave, Bridget had remained obstinately in the cave. He knew he should insist she follow the others. Until today he had never doubted her, but the discovery that she had lied hurt him more profoundly than Lizzie Manning’s obvious manipulations and Meg’s abandonment. She had given a plausible explanation, but he remained skeptical. He wanted to tell her so, and tell her to go, but bruised pride hampered his ability to speak.

Unexpectedly, Bridget spoke. “Joshua,” she said excitedly, “come here. I think I heard something.”

Joshua turned back and walked into the grotto. At first he couldn’t see her anywhere in the chamber. Then he heard a rustle of skirts that seemed to come from the very back of the cave, at the junction with the tunnel. He walked toward this spot and found her a few steps into the tunnel. She stood sideways on, her head at a slight incline, holding a finger to her lips as if to bid him be quiet.

“What is it?” Joshua said loudly, aware as he spoke of the sudden race in his pulse. “Whatever it is, you shouldn’t enter the tunnels. Everyone says they are most dangerous, particularly in bad weather.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she said, waving her hand impatiently. “But listen. Don’t you hear it? That noise …”

Half wondering if this was just a distracting ploy—it wouldn’t be her first—Joshua stopped talking and listened. The only thing he could hear was rain. Rain drumming overhead; rods of rain pouring down outside the entrance to the grotto as straight as the bars of a prison; rain trickling off every blessed leaf and branch and rock in the vicinity.

“There’s nothing,” he said tetchily. “It’s only this infernal deluge you heard. Will it never cease! In any case, we shouldn’t stand so far in; you heard Granger.”

“Listen! There it is again.”

This time Joshua heard it too—a scratchy, thumping sound, as if something hard and heavy were being drummed on the rock not far from where they stood. Joshua cursed the fact that he hadn’t had enough presence of mind to bring a lantern or a torch.

“Who’s there?” he shouted into the dense black void ahead. He heard his voice echo mockingly, but then, quite unexpectedly, the sound seemed to respond to his call. It became more rapid and, if anything, a little louder. He took a couple of steps further toward the darkness.

“Is that wise?” said Bridget, making no attempt to stop him.

“Probably not,” he said, faltering on another few steps, hands groping in front of him to determine which way the channel went. “You stay here. Then at least if I get lost I can call out to you and your voice will help me to find my way out.”

“Very well,” she replied.

Joshua stumbled on in the black oblivion, feeling his way around stalactites and stalagmites that threatened to trip or crown him, and dips and crannies in the floor. He progressed a distance of no more than twenty yards, though to him it seemed infinitely further. All this while, he had the strange impression that he was not alone. Several times he thought he heard a sigh or a rustle and turned to look back over his shoulder, but there was not the smallest ray of light in either direction.

Nevertheless, the notion that someone else was in the tunnel made Joshua uneasier than ever. Was he about to be ambushed in the dark by some unknown assailant? Lizzie had said Arthur Manning was safely ensconced at Barlow Court, but horrid memories of his recent assault in the barn returned to trouble him. Then, the sound that had spurred his rash journey ceased. He was surrounded by nothing but deep silence.

To rally his courage Joshua shouted loud details of his progress back to Bridget, triumphantly detailing each obstacle that he successfully navigated as if he were an explorer on some epic voyage. All too soon, however, even this distraction ceased. Bridget’s echoing responses to his reports became gradually fainter, and eventually they ceased altogether. He realized that if he couldn’t hear her and she couldn’t hear him, his contingency plan was foiled. He would have no way of navigating his way back to the entrance.

As soon as Joshua had fallen silent, the blackness in the tunnel seemed to press in on him with redoubled force. He felt as if he were interred alive in a coffin of rock. Instinct told him that he should turn back; determination ordered him to advance. Moreover, if he did retreat and then failed to find his way out, he would have to confront the hopelessness of his position. His progress slowed almost to nothing and he was on the brink of halting altogether when he heard the sound again.

Now he didn’t have to strain to hear it. Moreover, the scuffling and thumping was accompanied by a deep groaning and sounded quite close, as if it were only yards from where he stood. Joshua called out again, not to Bridget this time, but to the source of the sound. “Who’s there?” he cried, as firmly as he was able. “Where are you?”

He had arrived at a sharp bend in the tunnel. Feeling his way through the blanket of black, placing palm over palm on the wall, he inched forward.

He rounded the corner and found that the tunnel unexpectedly widened to a cavernous chamber, only slightly smaller than the one at the entrance. Best of all, light dimly filtered down through a hole that punctured the apex of the cavern’s domed roof. The hole appeared to be roughly two feet in diameter; he could just make out the sky fringed with grass and bracken like the lashes of a celestial eye. The light given off by this aperture was little more effective than a solitary candle illuminating a cathedral, but there was enough for him easily to make out the shadowy forms of the rocks around him.

“Bridget,” he yelled, too excited to realize she would never hear, “I have found something!”

No sooner had he uttered these words than he discerned in a far corner of the cave, bound up like a sirloin of beef, Mr. Lancelot Brown, who had been banging on the rock in front of him with his boots. The groans flowed from his gagged mouth. The instant Joshua rushed over to loosen his bonds, a gushing sound filled the cavern and a torrent of water flooded in.