Redemption (9 page)

“Ben,”
she whispered, and let the tears fall.

She
closed her eyes tightly and allowed the memory of his handsome
features to come forth. He seemed a million miles away. In another
world entirely to the one she was forced to live in. She stared
blankly into the fire and willed herself to think of something else
but it was impossible because she couldn’t forget just how
wonderful it had been to be in his arms on that fateful night at
the ball. He was so tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, in
addition to being wonderfully kind and tender. He was everything
she had ever wanted. What she had shared with him in the
Potterton’s garden had been profound. That had been a pivotal
moment in her life when everything changed and she knew that
nothing would ever be the same again. She certainly knew that no
man would ever have the capacity to stir her the same way Ben had.
In those few precious moments they had shared in the folly
something deep within her had unfolded, and left her yearning for
something she knew instinctively that only Ben could give
her.

She
shifted and rolled over to stare blankly up at the ceiling. She
didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself but, while she had
been wrapped in Ben’s loving arms, she had lost something of
herself to him. It was something she knew she would never get back.
Deep inside, she couldn’t help but feel that it might very well be
her heart.

The
solitary hoot of an owl suddenly shattered the silence and made her
jump. She could hear absolutely nothing yet every creek, moan, pop,
and crackle of the fireplace, and rustle of twigs and leaves
outside of the window was shockingly loud. She hated it, mainly
because it was a total contrast to the constant cacophony that was
London, and everything she was familiar with. Still, it was too
late to go back now. She had spent a lot of her money getting to
Derbyshire. First thing in the morning she was going to have to
discuss with Patty just how she could go about earning herself some
money while she was there because, without any funds to support
herself she was well and truly stuck in Derbyshire, having to live
off Patty’s grace and favour. That was something that worried
Lizzie so much that she struggled to relax enough to
sleep.

Eventually, when her tears resurfaced, she gave into them
until exhaustion took over and she fell into a restless
slumber.

Many,
many, miles away, Ben trotted down the winding driveway toward the
huge mansion nestled in the valley below. It sat like a jewel of
light in the dark desolation that had settled over him over the
past few weeks. They had been the very worst in his entire life and
he was now desperate to hear some news of Lizzie before he went
quietly out of his mind.

His
inability to uncover the truth about what had happened to his
darling Lizzie had driven him to call upon his good friend Barnaby
Stevenson. Barnaby was a member of the Star Elite; the government’s
elite band of fighting men who worked predominantly undercover
capturing criminals and bringing them to justice. Ben knew that if
anyone could help him find Lizzie now, it would be
Barnaby.

“Good to
see you, my friend,” Barnaby growled amid much back slapping and
handshaking. “Come in, come in. I received your letter. I hope you
don’t mind but asked my colleague, Marcus, to join us.”

“That’s
fine. Any light you can shed on my problem would be greatly
appreciated right now, Barnaby. I am going out of my mind with
worry.”

“Then
let’s see what we can do to help you,” Barnaby replied ushering him
into a comfortable library.

Once
seated, and with a liberal dose of brandy clutched tightly in his
fingers, Ben explained about Lizzie’s disappearance. As soon as he
mentioned Julian Pendlebury, he watched Barnaby share a somewhat
knowing look with Marcus, but both men remained quiet until Ben
finished recounting his explanation of events.

“Well,
we have recently been investigating a murder. Joshua Samson. Do you
know of him?”

Ben
nodded. “He died a while back, didn’t he?”

Barnaby
nodded slowly. “I am on my way back to London tomorrow to re-join
the investigation. I cannot say much right now, mainly because the
investigation is still at a very early stage, but we are aware that
Pendlebury is – was - Samson’s friend; colleague; acquaintance.
Call it what you like.”

“I read
in the broadsheets that he was found dead in a park somewhere.” Ben
struggled to get the words out past the lump in his throat at the
thought that they were going to tell him that the same fate had
befallen Lizzie.

“He
was,” Marcus assured him. “One of our colleagues found Samson
shortly after he died, but it has taken us a few days to get a
formal identification. Nobody reported him missing, you see? We may
be wrong, you understand, but there are rumours that Samson owed a
somewhat questionable gangster, a man called Raymond Trent, a
significant amount of money.”

“Is
Trent a loan shark?” Ben thought over Julian’s comment about
running up debts at the Riverside Club, and looked at Barnaby.
“Julian told me that Lizzie was at risk from Trent because he had
run up debts he couldn’t repay.”

He
stopped when Marcus shook his head.

“Death
isn’t Trent’s style but it may be Pendlebury’s.”

Ben
almost slumped, but then looked questioningly at Marcus and then
Barnaby when it became apparent that there was something they
weren’t telling him.

“So
Samson and Julian owe this man, Trent, money?” For the life of him
he couldn’t fathom what this had to do with Lizzie and fought hard
to quell his impatience. His head was whirling with facts that he
just couldn’t absorb.

“Rumours
are that Samson ran up the debts from gambling rather heavily at
the Riverside Club, but we don’t know who started the rumour.
Unfortunately, there is no proof that Samson owed anyone anything
because he was rich and didn’t seem to owe anybody
anything.”

“Why
would anyone start the rumour though?”

“To
falsify a motive for Samson’s death,” Barnaby reported
bluntly.

Marcus
leaned forward. “We searched Samson’s house. All of his accounts
were in order, his bills were all up to date, and there was money
in the safe. The man was affluent. There is no reason why he should
borrow money from anyone.”

Ben’s
head was beginning to ache. “What does this have to do with Lizzie?
Do you think Pendlebury killed her?”

“Well,
we did but then don’t understand why Pendlebury has gone off to
jail,” Barnaby reasoned.

“What do
you mean?” Ben asked, glad that the man was at least behind
bars.

Barnaby
nodded, understanding his friend’s worry. He had seen enough of his
colleagues go through the emotional mangle during their own
romantic exploits and knew the look on Ben’s face well enough to
realise that there was more than a cursory interest at stake
here.

“Pendlebury was the last person to be seen with Samson,” he
said quietly.

Ben went
cold. “Do you think Pendlebury killed Samson?”

“I don’t
know,” Barnaby sighed. “But it is a possibility we cannot discount
right now. One thing is for certain, if Julian Pendlebury cannot
come up with details of his sister’s whereabouts then we have to
assume she is dead too I am afraid. At least until we can find
proof otherwise.”

Ben’s
hand shook as he drained the last of his brandy in one gulp. It
burned its way down to his stomach and left him feeling slightly
sick, but he couldn’t think about that right now. His mind had just
gone blank.

“What
are the chances of that being a reality?” He didn’t want to know
but had to ask.

“I am
not saying that has definitely happened to her. It just looks
suspicious that she disappears around the same time that Samson’s
body turns up,” Barnaby replied.

“And
Pendlebury was the last person to be seen with Samson,” Marcus
added.

“Oh
God,” Ben whispered, his voice heavy with pain.

Marcus
sighed. “We have heard a rumour that Pendlebury was refused credit
at the Riverside Club. If either man borrowed money from Trent and
they can’t repay it, their chances of getting away unscathed are
not good. I am just not sure whether Trent would kill them or
anyone connected to them. For what purpose?” Barnaby reasoned. He
was alarmed at just how white Ben had gone, and felt sorry for him.
“Trent is a gambling man. As far as we can tell, he isn’t a
killer.”

“Trent
could have taken Lizzie to make sure Julian paid him what he was
due,” Ben whispered. He studied the goblet in his hand as though it
was a snake about to strike him, and carefully put it onto the
table beside him before he smashed it.

Barnaby
sighed. “I know that Trent is involved in some shady business right
now but we are sadly lacking in proof. Apart from several unpaid
bills in Trent’s name, the man has apparently, on the surface at
least, got nothing to hide. We have no evidence to suggest that
Trent would want Samson dead. I seriously doubt that he would want
Lizzie dead either.”

“I don’t
understand,” Ben whispered, struggling to absorb anything beyond
heart break.

Barnaby
nodded. “If Samson owed Trent money, it just doesn’t make sense why
Trent would want Samson killed. A dead man can’t pay bills. Samson
would be much more valuable to Trent alive. It’s possible that
Samson either saw something, or did something for Trent, that made
him a risk and Trent silenced him but that wouldn’t involve Lizzie.
If Pendlebury knew something then Trent would go after Pendlebury,
not Lizzie.”

“There
is no reason for Trent to go after Lizzie,” Ben whispered. The more
he thought about the whole sordid mess, the more he desperately
wanted to find Lizzie so he could take her home, back to McArthur
House, where he could keep her safe.

“Pendlebury and Samson are – were – friends, Ben, or
acquaintances in any case. They appeared to have spent time
together on the night Samson was killed. Now I am not suggesting
that Julian has killed Lizzie, please don’t misunderstand. I am
just saying that I think Pendlebury is more suspicious than Trent.
Pendlebury was the last person seen with Samson. Pendlebury was the
last person seen with Lizzie.”

Barnaby
was already shaking his head though. “We are not suggesting Lizzie
is dead. I am just saying that Trent isn’t likely to have either
taken her or killed her. It just isn’t his modus operandi. I am
sorry, but I just can’t believe for a second that Trent would go
down this route. So far, although his dealings are dodgy, they are
more along the line of trading stolen goods, or theft. He isn’t the
kind to order someone’s death. I think that Pendlebury was lying to
you for some reason when he hinted that Trent had
Lizzie.”

“So
Julian is at risk at all?” Ben sighed. “Or is Julian the killer?”
The more he heard the more his fear for Lizzie’s safety
grew.

“We
don’t know.” Barnaby shook his head. “I cannot see that Pendlebury
can be at risk from anyone.”

“A
danger to others, maybe,” Marcus added.

“I told
Julian that if he didn’t come up with an address for Lizzie then I
would take my suspicions to the magistrate because the staff heard
Lizzie arguing with her brother the night before she disappeared.
He was adamant that she must be alive somewhere. He hinted that
Trent had her but nobody at the Riverside Club has even heard of
her. I just don’t know what to do now.” His brows slammed down into
a deep frown. “I hope you are not warning me to stop looking for
her?”

Barnaby
shook his head. “No, just be careful where you tread that’s all.
Leave Trent to us. I have men working undercover at Trent’s gaming
house, or as close as we can get. I will get them to keep an eye
out for anyone matching your Lizzie’s description. If we find her,
I will make sure she is taken to a place of safety until you can
secure her somewhere else to stay. Until then, the best thing to do
would be to try to speak to some of her acquaintances. Find out if
she has any relatives anywhere she might have gone to.”

“I have
already asked Julian. He says that most of their relatives are
dead. Either way, he hasn’t kept in contact with any of them. He
couldn’t even provide me with one address so I can contact at least
one of them directly for other people’s addresses. He said that
Lizzie always dealt with that sort of thing.”

“Do you
know much about Julian Pendlebury?” Barnaby asked
curiously.

“Just
that he is a selfish ingrate who has no business being in charge of
anything, especially someone like Lizzie. He gambles a lot and
nobody particularly likes him very much. His acquaintances at the
tables associate with him mainly because he loses so much. I
understand that Lizzie recently came of age, and he is no longer
her guardian. He threw her out as soon as he could, and didn’t care
where she went. I just hope to God she is still alive.”

“Does
Julian strike you as a cold blooded killer?”

Ben
thought about that. He stood and moved toward the window and stared
blankly out at the rolling green lawns with unseeing eyes. At any
other time he would have enjoyed the lush landscape that stretched
out as far as the eye could see. Now though, his entire world
seemed dark and unwelcoming, and held very little interest.
Strangely, until he had Lizzie by his side again he didn’t think
his world would ever really be right. He reluctantly turned his
thoughts to Barnaby’s question.