Sonnet to a Dead Contessa (9 page)

“Come and stay at my place. They’ll never guess you’re there.”

Dylan smiled, and Lilly could not help but notice how she herself was weakened by the smile. “Thanks, Lilly, you’re a good friend. But God will take care of me.”

As soon as possible, Grant called for a press conference, more or less. The reporters, sniffing the possibility of news, had gathered around, and Grant had said quietly but firmly, “I know you fellows are just doing your job, but you’re not helping your newspapers any. You’re going to have to print some retractions and make an apology, all of you.”

Dave Ripton of the
London News
said, “Why should we do that, Superintendent?”

“Because, as I’ve tried to tell you, there’s absolutely no possibility that Dylan Tremayne could be the Slasher.”

“But the knife was his.”

“The knife belonged to the theatrical company. Anyone could have taken it. You could have taken it, Henry.” He had turned to a small man with a moon face and a pair of sharp grey eyes.

“But I didn’t take it, so why should we print a retraction?”

“Because I have evidence from a most reliable witness that during the time the murder of Lady Stephanie Welles was committed, Dylan Tremayne was in the company of a very reputable witness: Dr. Able Matson.” A murmur went around the crowd, and Grant felt a quick satisfaction. “So I want to keep you gentlemen informed and give you news as I can, but for anyone who doesn’t print a retraction and an apology to Mr. Tremayne, I will see to it that he never hears anything from me again.”

That did the trick. The papers apologised, some with rather poor grace, but at least it was done. The playhouse was still selling out, and the show was doing well, and Tremayne felt a great relief. He had never been afraid that he would be charged, for he well knew that there was no evidence against him, no motive, and he had an impeccable witness who would testify.

By Thursday morning, he could freely come and go from his own quarters, and he was about to leave when he heard a knock at the door.
Who could that be? Not a reporter, I hope.
He went at once to the door and opened it and was pleased to see two women, Lady Serafina Trent and Lady Margaret Acton.

“Hello, Dylan, we’ve come to kidnap you.”

“I can’t imagine a more pleasant form of kidnapping.”

“Lady Margaret, may I present Dylan Tremayne. Dylan, this is Lady Margaret Acton, one of your most ardent fans.”

“Yes, indeed,” Margaret said. Her brown eyes were sparkling, and she put out her hand, which Dylan took not knowing whether to shake it or kiss it, so he settled for a firm handshake. “The kidnapping was my idea. We’re going to have tea with a rather select group of people—namely, Serafina and myself—and we want you to come with us.”

“Why, I would be most happy to, Lady Margaret. Shall we leave now?”

“Yes,” Serafina said, “the carriage is outside.”

“Let me get my coat and hat and we’re off.” He turned but then wheeled back around. “I do have to make one stop. It may be out of your way. It’s in the Seven Dials District.”

“Oh, we have time for that,” Serafina said. “More of your admirers, I suppose.”

“No, it’s actually two old friends of yours, Lorenzo and Gyp.”

“What perfectly charming names.” Margaret smiled, her eyes sparkling. “They sound absolutely sinful.”

“Well, they were at one time, Lady Margaret. They’re both ex-criminals, but they’ve given their hearts to the Lord now and are serving him among the poorer people of London. Gyp could open any safe in London in less time than it would take you to powder your nose, and as for Lorenzo, he can become invisible, and I believe he could make his way through a keyhole. They were both very good at their jobs, but praise the Lord, they’ve given it up now.”

“Well, I’d be happy to see them again.” Serafina smiled. “I liked them very much.”

“Very well,” Dylan said. He picked up a lightweight coat, put it on, and then plucked his hat off of a peg and carried it in his hand. “We’re off, then.”

Lady Margaret sat fascinated during the carriage ride. She fired question after question at Dylan, and it embarrassed Serafina when she said, “I just love you in those tights. I think it’s sad that English gentlemen don’t wear them anymore.”

Dylan laughed out loud. “I’m glad they gave you some pleasure, Lady Margaret.”

When they arrived at the home of Lorenzo and Gyp, Margaret said, “I must meet these gentlemen.”

Dylan hesitated. “It’s a bit rough, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Dylan assisted the two ladies down and they turned. When he knocked on the door, it was opened at once by Lorenzo. The huge, burly man’s blunt features broke into a broad smile, and his voice boomed, “Well, praise be to God and the Lamb forever, my dear brother Dylan. And who are these lovely ladies? Oh, I see Lady Trent. So good to see you again.”

“How are you, Lorenzo?”

“The Lord has been good and gracious as always, and this lovely lady is . . . ?”

“This is Lady Margaret Acton. She’s very anxious to meet you and Gyp. I’ve told her about your former activities, and she is delighted to hear that you have reformed.”

“Reformed? No, indeed! Not reformed, Lady Margaret. Regenerated! Washed in the blood of the Lamb! Made pure in the garments of Jesus Christ himself!”

Dylan and Serafina exchanged smiles. They were accustomed to Lorenzo’s eloquent and florid descriptions of his spiritual condition, but they both could tell Lady Margaret was overwhelmed. They were waiting for the question, and shortly it came. “And may I ask, Lady Margaret, have you been born again? Are you on the way to glory?”

Lady Margaret was taken aback, but she said at once, “Yes, I’ve been a Christian for many years. Not as good a one as you, I’m sure, but I love the Lord.”

“Gyp, do you hear that? Come out and meet these ladies.” He performed the introduction, and the dark-skinned Gyp with a gold earring pleased Lady Margaret a great deal. Finally it was Dylan who said, “We’d like to stay and visit longer, but these ladies are taking me to tea. You sent for me, Lorenzo?”

“Indeed, I did. I sent for you because an old friend of yours is here.”

“An old friend? Who is it?”

Lorenzo was smiling broadly. “You wait right here, brother, and you shall see.” He disappeared into the dark recesses of the room, and Lady Margaret asked Gyp innocently, “Are you in fact a gypsy?”

“Yes, ma’am, and proud I am of my heritage.”

“I think gypsies are so romantic.”

Gyp suddenly laughed. “Well, the gypsy life is not quite as romantic as one reads of. It can be hard. Many people see gypsies only as thieves.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Dylan was waiting, and when the door opened he was surprised to see a woman come through. For some reason he had been expecting a man, but the woman who must have been in her late twenties was holding a small child, and she came at once to stand before him. He took her in quickly, for she had hair as black as his own and blue eyes. Her face was heart-shaped, and she was a shapely woman, her form not hidden by the cheap dress that she wore. Serafina was looking at the woman too, and her eyes narrowed when the woman said in a clear voice, “A good day to you, Dylan. It’s been a long time.”

Dylan could not think of a simple reply, and Serafina, who was accustomed to Dylan being quick-witted, saw that he was totally baffled by the young woman’s words.

Suddenly the young woman laughed, and a dimple appeared in each cheek. “It’s all alike you men are. You forget a girl the moment her back is turned.”

“I’m sorry,” Dylan said. “Would you refresh my memory?”

“Forgetful, you are! Why, Dylan, you gave me your first kiss—or so you said—down at the deep pool in the river.”

Lady Margaret was leaning forward, avidly taking all this in, and Serafina also was studying Dylan’s face intently. Suddenly she saw his eyes open wide, and a smile came to his lips. “Why, it’s you, Meredith Evans!”

“No, Meredith Brice now. I married Lewis Brice.”

“My best friend! I’m so delighted to see you again, Meredith. Forgive me for not knowing you, but it’s been a long time. Where’s Lewis? Is he with you?”

“No, Lewis is in the cemetery next to his father and his mother.”

A cloud crossed Dylan’s face. “Sorry I am to hear that.”

“He was the pastor of a small church, and I did what I could to help. We were planning to go as missionaries and proclaim the gospel of Jesus, but God saw fit to take him from me.”

“I’m so sorry, Meredith,” he said quietly, “but it is a delight to see you again. And who is this little one?”

“This is Guinivere. She’s almost two now.”

“Well, let me see this fine lady.” Dylan reached forward and took the child, held her up, and stared into her face. Serafina could see the youngster staring with large eyes, and suddenly the little girl smiled. Dylan exclaimed, “There’s a fine girl, you are!” He put the girl in the crook of his arm and said, “I’m so sorry about Lewis. May I ask what you’re doing in London?”

She looked down at her hands. “Things have been hard in Wales. I came to stay with my sister Angharad, but we hadn’t heard from her for a long time. We had had a few letters, and she seemed to be doing well. We had no place to go, so I finally got enough money saved to make the journey, but I haven’t been able to find her.”

“Meredith came to one of our services, Brother Dylan,” Lorenzo said, “and she’s been staying here.”

“I’ve imposed on these gentlemen, but I’ve got to find work until I can find Angharad. I have a little one to care for, don’t I?”

Dylan, still holding the child, said to Serafina and Margaret, “Ladies, I’m so sorry, but I must see what I can do about this.”

“Of course, Mr. Tremayne,” Margaret said. “If we can be of any assistance, you’ll let us know.”

“That I will, Lady Margaret. Lady Serafina, I know you’ll understand.”

“Yes, of course.” She turned to Meredith and said, “As Lady Margaret says, we’ll do anything we can to help you and your beautiful daughter.”

“Oh, there’s kind you are, all of you!” Meredith exclaimed, and her face lit up. “I—I must admit my faith was growing a bit weak. Lorenzo and Gyp have been so kind, but I’ve been an imposition.”

“Not a bit of it, not a bit!” Lorenzo boomed. “But I’m telling you this: your old friend Dylan is quite a detective, and Lady Serafina there, why, she could go to work for Scotland Yard if she put her mind to it.”

Serafina and Margaret made their good-byes and left the house. They got into the carriage, and as soon as they moved forward, Margaret began talking excitedly. “What a romantic thing! Isn’t she a beautiful woman?”

“Very attractive.”

Margaret stared at her. “What’s wrong? You seem discouraged.”

“Dylan is easily swayed. He tends to jump into things sometimes.”

“You think the woman is going to impose on him? She didn’t seem like that kind to me.”

“Well, Dylan is so emotional.”

“They were childhood sweethearts apparently.”

Serafina smiled, but her smile was not altogether easy. “I wonder, Margaret, if he would have been so quick if she had been a plain woman instead of the beauty she is.”

“Shame on you, Serafina! I think he would. He just seems like that kind of man.”

Serafina was quiet while Margaret spoke on, and finally she burst out, “She’s too attractive to be a minister’s wife.”

Margaret suddenly laughed. “Well, dear, she can’t help it if she’s
attractive. So she got Mr. Tremayne’s first kiss and maybe not the last one.”

“Oh, don’t be foolish! He’s as you say—that kind of man. Always wanting to help everybody. So he’ll help her find her sister, and that will be it.”

Margaret knew her friend very well. “You seem jealous.”

“Don’t be silly, Margaret! That’s the most foolish thing I ever heard you say. That was a long time ago. They were just children.”

“Well,” Margaret said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “she’s not a child any longer, is she?”

SIX

S
uperintendent Matthew Grant greeted his three visitors, or rather two and a half visitors, with curiosity. Dylan brought a young woman who was holding the hand of a child with black, curly hair and brown eyes, and for one moment the thought sprang to Grant’s mind that Dylan had found a lost wife. He got this idea primarily because of the proprietary air that the young woman cast on Dylan.
She is a good looker,
Grant thought,
but good-looking women are always drawn to Dylan
.