Sonnet to a Dead Contessa (5 page)

Victoria Cross medal

woman’s handkerchief with “Violet” embroidered on it

one playing card, the queen of hearts

two pennies with different dates

picture cut from a book, of a woman in armour driving a chariot

assortment of small bottles of all shapes and sizes

poem on a scrap of paper

Serafina shook her head. “Some of
these might be traced, but some would be impossible—these small bottles, for example.”

“I know, but we have to try. What do you make of this picture of the woman wearing armour and driving a war chariot?”

“It’s a picture of Boadicea.”

“Who was she?”

“She was an early queen in Britain, from a tribe called Iceni. When the Romans attacked her people and raped her two daughters, she raised an army and led them to battle against them. A very courageous woman, heroic, I might say.”

She picked up other items seemingly at random, mentioning one from time to time. “Well, here’s something,” she said, picking up a gold cuff link.

“I noticed that. It’s a very valuable one, solid gold, I would think.”

“Yes, with the initials H. W. Probably belongs to her husband, Herbert, but it should be easy enough to trace.”

She went from item to item and then moved about the room, her eyes going over the carpets and the wall. Finally she bent over and said, “Look at this, Matthew.”

“What is it?”

“Some sort of white powder. Just a trace, but I’d like to know what it is.”

Grant studied the tiny smear of white and said, “Could be something the servants use to clean the room.”

“I don’t think so. Look, there’s a tiny bit of it on this Victoria Cross.”

“You’re right. But what does it mean?”

“I’m not sure, but we’d better search for any other traces of it.”

The two went over the room but found no more of the powder. “Maybe it’s a cosmetic, but I don’t recognise it.” Serafina frowned. “But then, I don’t use a great deal of cosmetics. It seems the murderer is leaving a series of items here to confuse the police.”

“Yes, and it will take weeks to sort all these things out, I’m afraid. But here, notice this.” He removed an envelope from his pocket and gave her the single slip of paper. “This is the note that the killer left. It’s a poem of sorts, though I’m no judge of poetry. See what you make of it.”

Serafina took the paper and read the poem aloud:

Is this a dagger that I see for me?

This blood is not the last you will see!

Count the clues but no matter how you try

The lady will be the next to die!

Catch me if you can—you stupid weak policeman.

“Not much of a poem, Matthew,” Serafina said as she studied it. “It’s printed in block letters. It would be impossible to match it to anyone’s handwriting.”

“Yes, and the contents of it are frightening. ‘Catch me if you can,’ the murderer says, ‘you stupid weak policeman.’ I suppose that’s me.”

The two studied the poem, and Serafina made a copy and gave the original back to Grant. As she did, she said, “He’s challenging you to find him.” Serafina looked down. “And the next victim will be a lady.”

“So he says. You’ll need protection, Serafina.”

For a time Serafina did not move. Then she lifted her eyes to meet Matthew’s and said quietly, “You can’t protect every lady in England, Matthew.”

Grant quickly discovered that he had not underestimated the difficulties that lay ahead of him in pursuing the investigation into the death of Lady Welles. He had had two interviews with Lord Herbert Welles, neither of them pleasant. He was preparing for another when the Lord walked into his office, this time accompanied by none other than the home secretary.

“Good afternoon, Lord Herbert, and to you, Mr. Secretary.”

“What have you found out, Superintendent?” Welles asked at once.

“The investigation is in its preliminary stages, sir,” Matthew said carefully. “We’re having particular difficulties because of the method of the killer.”

“What sort of difficulties?” Welles demanded.

“As I told you earlier, sir, the killer has adopted a method of concealing his identity that no one at the Yard has ever heard of.”

“What might that be?” the secretary asked.

“He brought objects and items of all sorts. As far as we know, most of them are unrelated to Lady Stephanie. We have to run each of them down, and it’s a long list. But we’re doing our best.”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough!” Welles replied. He continued to insult Matthew, and finally he shouted as he walked away, “If you can’t handle a case like this, I’m sure Scotland Yard needs another superintendent!”

The home secretary, Gerald Ramsey, was a tall, imposing man but with a rather gentle manner. He nodded toward Welles. “I’m sure you’ll understand, Superintendent, he’s not himself.”

“Quite understandable, sir.”

“I never heard of anything like this. I don’t know much about investigations, but what sort of items were you mentioning?”

“Items like these, Mr. Secretary.” Matthew pulled the list from his pocket and watched as the secretary scanned it. “You see, most of these are rather ordinary items. Some of them are clues, perhaps, but many others are simply to throw us off the track.”

“Well, Superintendent, this is not a very auspicious beginning to your career as superintendent.”

“No, sir, it isn’t. It will be very difficult.”

“Do you have any suspects at all?”

Grant gave the secretary a direct look. “We have one, sir.”

“You do?” Ramsey was surprised. “Who is it?”

“Sir Herbert Welles,” Grant said lowly.

The home secretary’s body jerked, his eyes opening wide. “Why—why, you can’t possibly think that!”

“Most of the time, sir, when a wife is killed, the husband is the murderer. Those are the facts.”

“For heaven’s sake, Grant, be certain you don’t say such a thing to anyone! The newspapers are already screaming for action. If they discover you’re looking at her husband, it would be terrible.”

“Yes, sir. I have all my available men out, each one trying to trace one of the objects you saw on that list, so far with no results. Of course, it’s early yet.”

“It’s not early for the newspapers.” Ramsey shook his head sadly. “They’re already starting, and they won’t quit. You know that, I’m sure.”

“Yes, sir, I certainly know that.”