A Death at a Gentleman's Club Page 15

Fitzroy gave a sad little smile. ‘Perhaps for a while. Certainly not for ever. I hope we can agree on that.’

  ‘So, my father’s siblings do not live?’

  ‘He had one brother and one sister. The brother joined the Royal Navy and was lost at sea before he turned twenty-one. Their sister married but died in childbirth and the baby with her. I am deeply sorry this tale does not have a happier ending. But you have Bertram now. You and he will have a good life. Even your mother has found a new spouse! There is no point in dwelling on the tragedies of the past.’

  ‘I assume you are not going to take credit for The Bishop?’ I said wryly.

  ‘Certainly not. No offence, Euphemia, but I intend to stay as far away from your mother as possible.’

  I smiled with genuine amusement. ‘You are not the only person to feel like that.’ Fitzroy smiled back, but it was without his usual mocking undertone. There was an air of sadness about him I didn’t understand, and yet I felt it palpably. ‘My grandparents, who were they?’

  ‘Mary and John Martins - and believe me, if I was making this up, I would use more exotic names.’ His sadness shifted quickly into his usual more sardonic tone. ‘She was the daughter of a country squire and he worked as a professor in a boy’s school, teaching Latin, Greek, and the classics. Probably where your father got his love of those.’

  ‘How long have you known all this?’ I asked.

  ‘I thoroughly research anyone I intend to trust with the affairs of the nation and matters of the crown,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I cannot afford any of my assets to become compromised. You will understand that.’

  ‘Do you take as much interest in your other assets as you do in me?’ I asked boldly.

  Fitzroy let go of my hand. ‘You are the youngest female asset I have ever employed. I admit, I do feel a certain duty of protection. It is uncomfortable. But I am still in the process of convincing my superiors that the use of females in our trade is an advantage. Also, your maternal grandfather is a person of significance.’ He stood up, and against all etiquette, stretched. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘as I have told you before, you show a remarkable talent for this kind of work.’

  I sat up gingerly and took the flannel from my forehead. ‘I should find my mother and Bertram. Do you still need me?’

  Fitzroy opened his mouth and then closed it again. Then he said, ‘I almost said something most regrettable there.’ He gave me a tight little smile. ‘Don’t you want to be in at the kill?’

  ‘I have never been into blood sports,’ I said coldly.

  ‘Let me put it another way. Would you prefer to sit in the coffee lounge with your family for as long as it takes me to wind up this situation, or would you prefer to be active and help me close the case more quickly?’

  ‘The latter,’ I said without hesitation.

  ‘Good girl. I think you should visit your mother briefly. It would be most odd of you not to -’

  ‘Obviously.’

  ‘But what I want you to concentrate on is where the manuscript might be hidden. Reading over your notes I believe we are close, but we are still missing vital information. The easiest way to answer many of these questions is to read the document in question.’

  ‘I thought you had people looking?’ I said, rising shakily to my feet. Fitzroy was beside me in a moment, his hand under my elbow.

  ‘They are still looking but, so far, to no avail. I think our murderer had a plan and it was liable to have been a neat one, given his training. Helios was one of the best, by all accounts -’

  I broke in, ‘Did he close the Treaty of Berlin?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I didn’t get to that bit, did I? We believed one of the team was turned by the Russians. At least that is what Helios told us when Phlegon showed up dead. Now, of course, we believe Phlegon was killed by Helios. But at the time we only knew the team was compromised. All of them were pulled back from Berlin. The civilian assets were released from any further duties and provided with - I admit - weak cover identities. They kept their original names but were found positions in different parts of the country from where they had been recruited. No one expected anyone to go looking for them. It was more a courtesy to give them a chance to start again than what might have been considered protection. But Helios was given a very deep cover. There is no one left alive to my knowledge who knows what was set up for Helios, but such was his reputation at the time the department felt they owed him an entirely new life. No one suspected he was the traitor.’

  ‘But they suspected the other civilians?’ I asked.

  ‘I cannot, in all honesty, tell you. You must remember, it was still a long time before I would join the service, and what I am telling you is either hearsay or from the sketchy notes kept at the time. The department was not exactly into paperwork in the early days,’ he said with a short laugh. ‘It was all a bit derring-do.’

  ‘It seems the department was also much less careful of its civilian assets too.’

  ‘Be fair, Euphemia. Helios was a star - hence his code name. They all thought the sun shone out of his…’ He coughed and winked at me. ‘You get the idea. That he might be working against the interests of the nation did not occur to anyone for a long time.’

  ‘Who did spot it?’ I asked.

  ‘I did, when I inherited the files many years later. Of course, I wasn’t quick enough, and all the assets died.’

  ‘Do you blame yourself?’

  A mask of detachment spread over the spy’s face. Then he flashed me his most charming smile. ‘Not as much as I blame Helios.’

  ‘Do you want revenge?’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘Revenge for them, and justice for the worst kind of traitor.’

  ‘I think I am actually flattered that you let me work on this investigation,’ I said. ‘This means a lot to you.’

  Fitzroy stepped away from me. ‘More than you know,’ he said and held open the door for me. ‘And, Euphemia, when you find the manuscript, don’t read it. It’s imperative you bring it straight to me.’ As I passed through the door, he said quietly, ‘I am trusting you.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  An Old Truth Comes to Light

  I had the uncanny feeling that Fitzroy had been on the verge of telling me something else. It often felt like he was keeping something back from Bertram and me, because he usually was. However, this was different. He seemed genuinely disturbed by the situation. When he said he was trusting me, I heard an undercurrent of urgency I had never heard before.

  Did he fear that as he played Helios at this game of cat and mouse at the Holby, the former master spy might not only outwit him, but do something terrible? Was Helios much more of a danger than he was willing to let us know? I had a strong desire to run to Bertram’s side, but whether that was to protect him, or for him to protect me, I was not entirely sure.

  I found my mother seated in the coffee lounge with an entourage worthy of an Empress fussing around her. The Bishop, towering over the rest of them, contented himself with keeping his large hand on his wife’s shoulder. Richenda was sitting next to her, ineffectively fanning her with a napkin, and Bertram stood alongside clutching a decanter of brandy in his hand. My mother was already sipping from a glass of the stuff. Joe sat a little off to one side, wide-eyed and clearly frightened. I went over and hugged him.

  ‘Mama fainted,’ he said. ‘Mama never faints. Not even when Papa died.’

  ‘Mama saw an old picture of Papa when he was young. She didn’t know he used to be a member here.’ I squeezed him. ‘Is that not amazing? We are sitting in a coffee lounge that Papa used when he was young.’

  Joe looked around uncertainly. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Well, he never smoked, so I imagine he spent much of his time in here, or in the reading room. He did enjoy a good cup of coffee.’

  ‘Ellie made it so badly it used to make him so upset, but he never told her off, because he knew she was doing her best.’18

  ‘I had almost forgotten about her,’ I said. ‘Poor
Ellie, she never was very good in the kitchen. I hope she found some nice farmer to marry and didn’t have to remain in service. It didn’t suit her.’

  ‘It was very like Papa not to scold, wasn’t it?’ said Joe. ‘Step-pa doesn’t get cross either. He’s got a scary frown, but he is ever so nice. Even if he does talk a lot.’ Joe looked up at me. ‘Do you think Papa would mind that I like him?’ Joe’s eyes were full of guilt.

  ‘I think he would be delighted that both you and Mama have found someone who will take good care of you.’

  ‘And you,’ said Joe. ‘You’ll come home now, won’t you?’

  ‘I’m going to marry Mr Stapleford.’

  Joe watched Bertram hovering ineffectively with the decanter and said, with all the casual cruelty of a child, ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure,’ I said. ‘I had better go and talk to Mama. Why don’t I get Bertram to come over and say hello? He could tell you about his motor car. It goes ever so fast.’

  Joe’s face switched in a flash from dubious approbation to genuine enthusiasm. ‘Rather,’ he said.

  I went over to Bertram and took the decanter from him. He turned to me in surprise. ‘I do not think my mother will need more than one,’ I said, placing it on a nearby table. ‘Thank you for seeing to her. Do you think you could possibly show Joe your motor car? I know we have a lot going on, but he is still a child, and I think today is somewhat overwhelming for him. I take it you can let yourself out of the building?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Bertram, relief flooding his face. ‘I’d love to.’ I watched as he hurried off to suggest this excursion to my little brother, thinking that it would be good for both of them to get away from the Club for a while. I very much wished I could go with them.

  ‘Mama,’ I said. ‘I am so sorry you had such a dreadful shock. No one seems to have been aware Papa was once a member.’

  My mother took a delicate but large sip of brandy. I reflected that she could be the only person I had ever known capable of guzzling brandy with a certain elegance. Richenda carried on flapping the napkin. She did not appear to notice she was wafting crumbs onto my mother. I glanced up at The Bishop, who was calmly surveying the scene below, like a seagull on a cliff. My mother’s unoccupied hand crept up and touched The Bishop’s lightly. ‘I agree, it was a surprise, like opening a window into the past. But I do not wish you to think it was an disagreeable one, Euphemia. I was greatly fond of your father, despite what may have appeared to have been some difficulties while you were growing up.’ My mother’s cheeks became faintly pinker. I decided to ascribe this to the brandy.

  ‘If The Bishop will excuse my saying so, I have always thought your marriage with Papa a most romantic one,’ I said truthfully.19

  ‘Have no worries on my account,’ said The Bishop, his deep voice booming down from above. ‘There are no secrets between your mother and me. We are a most unconventionally close couple.’

  ‘ Husband, honestly,’ muttered my mother, turning from pink to rose madder.

  ‘I am afraid I never knew your father, Euphemia,’ continued The Bishop, ‘But I only ever heard him well spoken of in ecclesiastical circles.’

  I must have looked surprised, for he continued to reassure me on this at some length. Eventually I had to interrupt. ‘I am sorry for my expression. It is simply that my father was barely in the ground before we were called on to vacate the vicarage. If he had been held in such esteem why were his family so treated, and why was he never offered advancement? I know from personal experience he was a great scholar.’

  ‘Euphemia,’ said my mother. ‘It is not your right to question.’

  However, The Bishop gave a broad grin. This made him look more like a giant bird than ever. ‘Forgive me,’ he said, ‘but my acquaintance with your mother began when she assailed me with the very same questions. It was that first encounter that led onto our happy union.’

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ I said. ‘My mother is right. It is none of my business.’ I cast a side glance at Richenda and raised my eyebrow. Unfortunately, she misinterpreted my message and only flapped the napkin all the faster with worse effect.

  ‘No, not at all,’ said The Bishop. ‘I understand your curiosity. I looked into the matter for your mother. You will understand I was not involved with that parish at the time. I discovered that your father had been offered advancement on no less than four separate occasions - quite remarkable! - and had turned them all down.’

  ‘Oh, Josiah,’ muttered my mother in an undertone of lament.

  ‘He was not only a Classics scholar, as you know, but apparently a polyglot too. Excluding the dead languages, he spoke more than six others with a degree of great fluency. Perhaps you share his talent?’

  ‘I had no idea,’ I said. ‘He never taught me anything other than Greek and Latin.’

  ‘In which she excelled,’ said my mother in a low voice that clearly did not praise my success.

  ‘As to why you were asked to remove so quickly from the vicarage, I read more than one letter of protest about this. Apparently, the request came from outside the Church, but I cannot track down from whom. I only know that the bishop of that diocese felt it was not someone he could refuse. Sadly, he has since died, so I cannot ask him.’

  ‘Obviously, it was your grandfather,’ said my mother. ‘He has been relentlessly cruel and vindictive since the first day of my marriage to Josiah.’

  The Bishop patted her shoulder. ‘We will pray for graciousness to enter his soul,’ he said.

  My mother snorted. She then quickly pretended it was the brandy. As The Bishop bent over her to assure himself she was well, I beckoned to Richenda. She rose quickly and followed me as I left the room.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Richenda. ‘My wrists are positively aching. It seems you and your mother are more alike that you knew.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I demanded.

  ‘You’re both fainters. I would never have thought it of either of you!’

  ‘These are extreme circumstances,’ I said firmly. ‘Now, Mr Fitzroy…’

  ‘Oh, that nice policeman,’ said Richenda. ‘He’s rather handsome, isn’t he? When he swept you up in his arms, it was -’

  ‘Never mind that,’ I said sharply. ‘He wants us to find the missing manuscript. He has had people rummaging all over the place, but they have not found a thing. Apparently, he believes we can find it.’ I added this to appeal to her vanity. It did not fail.

  ‘I expect he’s using men,’ said Richenda disparagingly. ‘They will all think alike. But then I suppose it was hidden by a man.’

  ‘I cannot tell you much,’ I said, ‘but the man who hid it - I might as well tell you his codename rather than talking about this man and that - was Helios.’

  ‘How pretty. Like the sun.’

  ‘Exactly. Helios is not your average man.’ I took a deep breath and looked up and down the corridor. There was no one in sight. In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘In fact, he used to be a spy until he turned traitor. We think Mr Lovelock’s memoirs would have exposed the truth about him.’

  ‘No wonder he is wanted by the police,’ said Richenda in what I can only describe as accents of delight. ‘What a lark!’

  ‘So, you see, he would have had a plan to hide the manuscript and get it safely away from the club. A good plan.’

  Richenda nodded eagerly. ‘But then you and Bertie came along and managed to mess it all up. How bally unlucky for the chap.’

  ‘Richenda, need I remind you he’s a traitor and a murderer!’

  ‘I know. I know. I’m trying to get into his head. If you think about it, he must have been jolly annoyed when he found out about the papers. There he was, happily pootling along, and then he hears about this chappie who is going to expose his deepest, darkest secrets after he’s been keeping his nose clean for years. I mean if he had carried on being a traitor someone would have caught up with him before now, would they not?’

  I blinked. It was all too easy
to forget that underneath her country exterior Richenda could be, when she chose, as sharp as a tack.

  ‘Makes you think, though,’ she added. ‘Wonder what stopped him being a traitor? I mean, I presume you don’t try and sell out your country unless you’re getting something from it. Money? Titles? Land?’

  I put my finger to my lips. ‘You are getting loud and I do not wish to alert him to our activities.’

  ‘Of course, he is still in the building!’ exclaimed Richenda, lowering her voice. ‘Gosh. Intense. Reminds me of something Amy does.’

  ‘What?’ I said with little hope.

  ‘Well, sometimes when she thinks one of us is not paying her enough attention she’ll take something she knows we need. Like Hans’ fountain pen when he is meant to be writing, or my hairpins, if she doesn’t want me to go out without her. But the thing is, she does not simply hide them, she moves them. She will put them in one place and hope we will search elsewhere. Then when we’ve searched an area she will move the pen, or whatever, into the area we’ve already searched. She is such a little sneak. Do you know I once found Hans’ best Montblanc planted among the tulips?’

  Richenda’s smile suggested that she found these escapades endearing. I was about to dismiss her motherly ramblings, when two things struck me. I had a clear mental picture of Hans’ favourite green fountain pen planted among the green stems of the tulips. It would be in both plain sight and hidden. Clever Amy! Also, it was more than likely Fitzroy’s men were doing a methodical search through the building. Cat and mouse. Neither Bertram nor I had attempted to contain our suspects and Fitzroy must have given it up as a bad job. Helios could be moving with impunity and it would not be difficult for him to move papers from one area to another. Why, all he needed to do was slip them inside a newspaper or book. I grabbed Richenda’s shoulders and kissed her forcefully on the forehead. ‘You are brilliant,’ I said.

  ‘I am!’

  ‘Yes, he is obviously doing what Amy did and moving the papers around ahead or behind the search. No one would think anything of a man with a newspaper – and it would be easy to tuck them inside.’