Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (42 page)

Which
was nearly as important, to Gwen's way of thinking.

The
reports went out quickly enough, and Peter walked up, dressed in his normal
blue Westmorland outfit. She was in a dress, herself, since her only uniform
was the Special Service one, unless she wanted to climb into her armor. That
might be a little over the top though, just for a visit to a fighting club.

"Hey,
Pete. We have the person behind the whole thing now, I think. Or at least have
a name. I don't know, I may have had her released already..." She started
to blush, but the voice from the Telestator called out to her, clearly having
heard her pretty clearly.

"No,
Miss Farris, we haven't transferred her yet. She's still here, in her room. I'm
aghast about all this. I wouldn't have thought that Miss Wendell would... Why?
She has enough magic for it to be useful for her, why would she wish it
gone?" Christophe sounded so perplexed that everyone in the room went
silent for a long while.

Finally
Gwen spoke up, since, matter of honor or not as far as Lisa went, Chris had
earned the information, just by being there.

"To
protect you, I think. To keep you safe in a world filled with magic."
Because, the Duke didn't have anything like that, and love was, if the stories
were correct, a strange thing that caused people to act like morons.

Bethany
held the line open her hand on the central sphere of the Telestator.
"Worse, if we have this right, the papers will all seem to have come from
you, sir. We can prove your innocence, but..."

There
was a pause and then Chris grunted softly.

"But
the magicless Duke having his name on those documents won't be missed by some.
No matter who is punished for this, the facts will seem to show that I, and no
other, ordered those girls slaughtered. It is... a quandary." There was a
deep inhalation and the voice that came then suddenly sounded older. More
mature. Regal. "I will of course, allow you to be out of our engagement,
Miss Farris. This shall not be a stain upon you as well."

Gwen
rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue, as if she'd lost control of her face.
Everyone else was acting so serious about the whole thing that she nearly
panicked, but then realized they weren't in her world anymore.

"Nope.
We're getting married and you're going to be a great husband. Make sure that
Lisa doesn't go anywhere at all. I'll take care of the rest of this. Beth and I
will. So, I'll see you at the party tomorrow? We may have to do a bit of damage
control, but you should come. I know that everyone will miss you if you
don't." She didn't know that at all, but it sounded really polite, the way
she said it.

Beth
was silent and Chris made a sound that didn't seem normal at all. She realized
it was him turning away and calling out instructions for Lisa's care.

When
he turned back he sounded a bit shy, and a hint of stutter was in his voice.
Just a bit however.

"Y-yes.
I'll be there. No matter what." There was bravery in the words. Then, as
far as he knew, he was going to be turning himself into the King or something.

That
wasn't her plan at all.

"Great!
Well, I have some work to get done. Calls to make and all that. I might be by
later?"

"Oh?
I look forward to that then."

The
line broke, because Beth lifted her right hand from it suddenly. Then she
turned and stared at Gwen as if she was looking at something fearful, rather
than her best friend.

"What...
are you going to do?"

That
got her to smile, not meaning it at all.

"Go
to my main advisor for things like this, of course." She meant it, she
realized, which would no doubt thrill him to no end. There was only one person
that was important in all this really. One man that they had to convince.

Ferdinand.

So
she ran to her room, got the little card with his information on it and called
the special number that went directly to him. After a fashion. She had to speak
to his main secretary first, an old sounding woman that tried to talk her out
of speaking to the King, at first. Until Gwen snapped at her.

"Look,
this isn't a social call. It's a matter of
state
. This is Gwen Farris,
and I need to speak to him. Now. Pull him from his meeting if you have
to." She sounded demanding, and that just wasn't going to happen, the lady
rather stiffly informed her. She would however, be allowed to hold. Though it
might be several hours.

"Fine."
She made her voice bitter and hard, but didn't release the line. Not that the
King's secretary couldn't have had her bumped off at any time.

It
didn't take hours, thankfully, just about fifteen minutes. When Ferdinand got
on he sounded very upset however.

"Miss
Farris? Forgive me, I was with Count Goebbles. I would have come immediately
had I known you were standing by like this." He managed to sound like he
was really put out by what his secretary had done, but Gwen got it. If she was
calling about party things, no matter how important she imagined it to be, it
wouldn't have been.

This
wasn't that though, was it?

"Clear
the room on your end?" She made it a question and there was a soft sound
that she realized was the man snapping his fingers. Being King had some perks
after all.

"Done.
I take it that this is in regards to the train matter?"

"Yes,
we figured out that Duke Aubry's secretary, Lisa Wendell, set it all up.
Probably in order to protect Christophe from, well,
everything
. It was
misguided, but the lady isn't well. Insane, really. We can say that at least.
She made it look like Chris was behind this, by accident I think, but he
wasn't. He's ready to fall on his sword for this though, guilty or not. I was
thinking we could have a good old fashioned cover up? We have Miss Wendell in
custody already. She could, you know, just die. We leave the case open and move
on. In a few years, everyone will just assume that we ended it on the train, or
with those others that died. It isn't justice really, but, I don't know,
Christophe doesn't need another thing being heaped up on him." Not after
his father and himself having been brainwashed by Erin Debussey like they had
been.

That
wasn't lost on the King, but Ferdinand simply moved closer to the device, wherever
it was, and whispered to her.

"Make
it happen, Miss Farris. No one should suspect anything. You did the right
thing, contacting me directly. Who else knows about this?"

"Bethany
Westmorland, Peter Westmorland... Clara, my maid, who's working as Beth's
assistant today. Beth, did you call anyone else before Christophe?"

"No.
I thought that we needed to see that Lisa was secured first. Gwen had arranged
for her to be released into Duke Morton's custody, on the issue of the death
curse she placed on Gwen."

There
was a hiss from the Telestator.

"I'd
heard about that. The attack, not that you arranged for her to be released into
a comfortable situation. That was perhaps too kind of you, Miss Farris. We
cannot allow her to escape now. Can you... Arrange for that?"

Gwen
felt her face wrinkle up a bit. After all, she hadn't been planning to arrange
for it at all.

"You
mean, can I slit her throat myself? Yes, I think I can. Or, well, I might have
a different way of going about it." It would cost her to do it, but she
figured that she
might
be able to get it done. "I'll see you at the
party?"

Then,
as if they'd never spoken about anything else, they talked for a few minutes as
if her only concern in the world was the color of the outfit the man would be
wearing. It would be blue, she was assured. To match his eyes.

She
rolled her own, but did figure it would be pretty enough. When they finally
broke the line, she realized that there would be need to do things carefully
for the rest of the day. First, they still had to do what they had planned, if
they were going to act like Lisa Wendell had nothing to do with the other case
at all.

"Pete?
We need to get to go and check out those wrestlers?"

He
didn't even blink, just going and getting the box with the orange sized spheres
in it. He took the two he needed, and handed the others off to her. One went
into her little handbag, since her outfit didn't have pockets at all.

That
trip was, actually kind of fun, she realized. The men at the club, which was a
shabby open room with mats on the floor and weight sets over to one side, fell
all over themselves when she walked in. It was clean inside, but smelled
faintly of sweat. Places like that did.

"Ma'am?
Have you... come to see about wrestling lessons for your boy?" The large
man wasn't the fellow in charge, but was a lower level assistant, she thought.
He was in his thirties or so, and had a very full handlebar mustache. He was
huge as far as muscle went, and clearly had spent a lot of time with those
weights off to the side. His hands had calluses from them and everything.

Gwen
shook her head slightly, then stopped.

"Well,
possibly. First, however, we're here about the train murders? Some men that
trained here were involved in them. Can you tell me what you know about that?
If you're part of it, please just confess right now. We'll find out anyway, and
if you confess we can allow you an honorable death." Gwen said it because
she figured that it would sound good, but the man stiffened, as if surprised,
rather than offended.

"I
don't know anything about that. Honorable death... so this is a high
matter?"

Peter
smiled at the much larger man.

"High
enough. He really doesn't know anything." Holding out his right hand to
the man, he waited, but the fellow took it, since that's what polite gentlemen
did. "Peter Westmorland. This lady is Miss Gwendolyn Farris. She has a
soft spot in her heart for fighters. Hence you being allowed the honorable way
out. We'll need to speak to everyone?"

The
man seemed a bit put out by that, but allowed that they could do that, he
supposed. It wasn't that he didn't want them there, it became clear, but rather
that he knew of at least several men that were missing, including the owner of
the club. It took a bit to work out who was who, but the men from the train
were all accounted for. Including Sam, the porter. It was, she thought, the
large power-lifting looking man that was George Harris, the club's old owner.

Dead
now, so it seemed that this fellow, Barty, was going to have to take over.

They
were given tea, because, apparently, in this world, they had that at wrestling
gyms. It was unsweetened, since everyone there was in training. Barty offered
to have someone run out and get some sugar for them, but Gwen shook her head
and started talking about the specific techniques they used.

Then
asked for demonstrations, for her and Peter. She didn't get to try much
herself, because dresses weren't conducive to grappling, plus it would have
been considered most improper. Especially since she was, as Peter reminded her,
engaged.

He
looked at the new gym owner and spoke to him directly, "engaged to Duke
Aubry. Have you heard about that? This being in his duchy and all?"

"Oh!
Yes. I didn't make the connection though. I mean, it made the papers, but I
haven't seen the Duke since he took office. After his father passed. He used to
work here, on occasion, as a boy."

The
man, fortunately didn't make any connections there, and Gwen made sure to keep
that part of things out of the conversation. The idea was just to clear the men
here, or find them guilty and arrest them, if they didn't want to kill
themselves. That was, Peter pointed out, normally only allowed the very rich or
nobility, but Gwen figured it would make her job easier, if they'd do that,
rather than going to trial. Living people might eventually lead back to Lisa
and she was uncomfortably close to Christophe.

Thankfully
no one knew anything at all. She looked at the roster, and noticed that they
hadn't spoken to everyone by any means, but Barty seemed certain that the ones
they'd missed weren't likely to be in on it, mainly being kids, after all. They
had to go and find a few of the adults, but they were just men that worked at
real jobs and didn't train on their lunch breaks.

That
meant that, at about five in the afternoon, they were able to be back at Park
Street, so they had time to recharge the spheres they were using, with Peter
doing the heavy lifting there, and she was able to return them and be back in
time to sit down with everyone else. It was a light meal, since the next day
would be hectic for the staff, which meant that they only had seven courses.

She
and Peter had missed the mid-day meal, so she was grateful for the food. It
was, as always, wonderful.

Beth
and Clara were back too, but didn't share their findings until after the meal
was over, since what her friend and new assistant had to say wasn't very
polite.

Clara
went first, snorting like she was a woman of the streets or something, rather
than a proper Westmorland assistant at all.