The Repentant Rake (42 page)

    'At a
secret address.'

    'Where
is it?'

    'Less
than five minutes from here.'

    'Would
you meet the lady if I were to accompany you there?'

    'No.
I could not bear the embarrassment.'

    'Then
I will go in your stead' decided Christopher.

    'You?'

    'Give
me the address, Henry. The meeting may prove fruitful.'

    While
the two men talked neither took their eyes off the printer's shop owned by
Miles Henshaw. Hours had passed since Tom Warburton took up his station nearby.
Jonathan Bale was having difficulty replacing him.

    'There
is no point in both of us staying, Tom,' he said.

    'I'll
linger awhile.'

    'Mr
Redmayne asked me to relieve you.'

    'Why?'

    'He
felt that you had been here long enough.'

    'I
have.'

    'Then
go back home and have some dinner. Come back later.'

    'I
might miss him.'

    'We
have no guarantee that he will come today,' said Jonathan, 'though there is one
promising sign. The gentleman we visited this morning has been threatened with
publication of shameful details about his private life. Not that he had the
grace to be ashamed about them,' he added grimly, 'but we'll let that pass.
Those details will need to be printed by Mr Henshaw so that they can be used to
cause the gentleman further grief. The commission may come today.'

    'Then
I'll stay.'

    'Leave
him to me.'

    'You
may need help, Jonathan.'

    'I
can manage.'

    'We
are in this together.'

    'True.'

    'You,
me - and Sam,' said Warburton, fondling his dog. 'He found the body.'

    'I
have not forgotten that, Tom.'

    Jonathan
was pleased at the prospect of company during what might prove to be a long
vigil but worried that he might not be able to make the arrest himself. The
attack on Christopher Redmayne had upset him deeply. Jonathan felt that he had
a personal score to settle on behalf of his friend. If the man posing as
Gabriel Cheever did arrive at the printer's, he wanted to be the one to
confront him. It was a selfish attitude and he chided himself for it but that
did not lessen his desire to be instrumental in the arrest. There was, however,
another factor to be taken into account. If the man did reappear, he might not
be alone. His accomplice might be with him. That could cause a problem even for
Jonathan. His colleague's support might be valuable, after all, and it would be
very unfair to exclude the dog.

    'Thanks,
Tom,' he said with feeling. 'Good to have you with me.'

    Sam
gave a bark of gratitude. He wanted to be involved in any action.

    The unheralded
arrival of Sir Julius Cheever took both women by surprise. Lucy was quite
overwhelmed when he suddenly appeared on her doorstep and she did not know how
to react. Susan was dismayed. Much as she loved him, she felt that he had come
at an awkward time. During their long conversations, she and Lucy were drawing
ever closer. The presence of Sir Julius in such a limited space made any
exchange of confidences quite impossible.

    'Why
have you come, Father?' she asked.

    'I felt
that I had to, Susan,' he said. 'I cannot mourn my son properly until his
killer has been brought to justice. Instead of sitting in Northamptonshire, I
ought to be here, helping in the search.'

    'It
is good to see you again, Sir Julius,' said Lucy.

    'My
apologies for coming unannounced.'

    'They
are unnecessary.'

    They
were in the house in Knightrider Street. Travel had patently tired Sir Julius.
He had lost much of his animation. Lucy felt obliged to offer him
accommodation.

    'You
are most welcome to stay here,' she offered.

    'No,
no, Lucy,' he said 'I would not dream of it.'

    'Anna
can soon prepare the other bedchamber.'

    'I
have already taken a lodging at the King's Head in Holborn. It is close to Mr
Redmayne's house in Fetter Lane. I called there first but his servant told me
he was out. He also said that Mr Redmayne had been attacked.' He turned to
Susan. 'Is this true?'

    'Unhappily,
it is.'

    'Was
he injured?'

    'Yes,
Father,' she said, 'I saw him myself this morning.'

    'Tell
me what happened.'

    Conscious
of Lucy's presence, she chose her words carefully, describing the violence of
the attack but making no mention of the fact that Christopher had been out with
his brother. While she was able to praise Christopher's bravery, she knew that
the plight of Henry Redmayne would provoke only disgust in her father. Susan
went on to explain that Christopher and Jonathan Bale were continuing their
investigations.

    'How
can I get in touch with them?' said Sir Julius anxiously.

    'Mr
Redmayne promised to call here if there was any news to report.'

    'When
did you last see him?'

    'A
few hours ago.'

    'We
have already dined, Sir Julius,' said Lucy sweetly, 'but you are welcome to
refreshment after your journey.'

    'No,
thank you,' he said. 'I seem to have lost my appetite lately.'

    'So
have I.'

    'What
I would like to do, with your permission, is to stay here awhile.'

    'Please
do, Sir Julius.'

    'Yes,'
said Susan without enthusiasm. 'It will give us an opportunity to catch up on
your news. Does Brilliana know that you are back in London?'

    'No.
Nor must she at this stage.'

    'Why
not?' asked Lucy innocently.

    'My
elder daughter behaved very badly after the funeral,' said Sir Julius. 'I will not
easily forgive her for that. Fortunately, her husband had the sense to take her
back to Richmond. I never thought I'd be grateful to Lancelot Serle but I am.
He did the right thing. I'm grateful to the fellow and - dare I admit it? -
profoundly sorry for him, being married to someone like Brilliana.'

    'He
was very kind to me,' recalled Lucy.

    'Lancelot
is a very considerate man,' said Susan.

    'That
may be,' agreed Sir Julius gruffly, 'but he is still a dolt and best left down
in Richmond until this whole business is settled.' He slapped his knee. 'This
inaction will be the death of me. I was not meant to sit around and do nothing.
I want to join in the hunt. Where is Mr Redmayne? I want the latest news.'

    It
was the ideal place for a tryst. Situated in a quiet lane not far from Charing
Cross, the house was small, neat and indistinguishable from those either side
of it. When he first saw the building, Christopher Redmayne felt a slight flush
of guilt. Its very anonymity had recommended the house to his brother as a
place in which to further his romance with Lady Ulvercombe. Assignations had
taken place there over a brief period. Looking at it now, Christopher wondered
yet again why Henry permitted himself to get drawn into such entanglements.
They invariably ended in sorrow. This particular relationship might have even
more serious consequences. Christopher was mildly embarrassed that he was put
in the position of trying to rescue his brother from the ire of a cuckolded
husband. He was not looking forward to the task but somebody had to take it on.

    When
he gave his surname at the door, he was admitted at once. It was only when he
stood in the hall and removed his hat that the servant was able to take a close
look at him. After flinching at the sight of his injured face, the man became
suspicious.

    'You
are not Mr Henry Redmayne, sir,' he said.

    'I am
his brother, Christopher.'

    'Is
Lady Ulvercombe expecting you?'

    'Tell
her that I have come on Henry's behalf.'

    The
man's eyes clouded with doubt and he disappeared for a long time. Christopher
feared that Lady Ulvercombe would refuse to see him and he would be sent
ignominiously on his way. It made him even more self-conscious. He glanced at
the staircase, wondering how many times his brother had climbed it with his
fleeting conquest. When the servant reappeared, he warned Christopher that he
would be seen on sufferance. It was evident from his tone that Lady Ulvercombe
was very annoyed that Henry had not come in person. Steeling himself,
Christopher went into the parlour.

    She
was standing beside the window that overlooked the garden, choosing a position
where the light fell on her to best advantage. Lady Ulvercombe was a tall,
stately woman in her thirties who paid meticulous attention to her appearance.
She had the kind of glacial beauty that reminded him of Brilliana Cheever but
her immaculate attire marked her superior social status. When she turned to
Christopher, she wrinkled her nose at the sight of his face.

    'I
apologise for my appearance, Lady Ulvercombe,' he said politely, 'but I was
attacked in the street last night.'

    She
was unsympathetic. 'Did you bear any resemblance to your brother
before
that incident?' she said. 'I can discern none whatsoever now. Where is he?'

    'Unable
to come.'

    'Does
he not understand the importance of the summons?'

    'Only
too well, Lady Ulvercombe. He was aware that the letter had gone astray.'

    'How?'

    'Henry
is being blackmailed.'

    Her poise
wavered. 'Somebody has the letter?' she asked. 'That was my fear.'

    'It
is causing my brother rather more than fear,' said Christopher. 'If you would
care to sit down, I will explain. These injuries you see,' he added, indicating
his face, 'are a small part of the explanation.'

    'Henry
should be here to give it in person.'

    'Bear
with me, Lady Ulvercombe, and you will understand why he is not.'

    She
regarded him with a blend of interest and unease. His bearing was impressive
and his voice persuasive but she was distressed that he knew about an item of
intimate correspondence. If his brother had confided in him, then he had to be
trustworthy, she hoped but she would need reassurance on that score. Crossing
to a chair, she lowered herself into it and assumed another pose. Christopher
had a vision of Henry and his mistress together, preening themselves in front
of each other and attaching far more importance to outward show than to any
emotional commitment. He took a seat.

    'It
is a long story, I fear,' he began.

    'Must
I hear it all?' she sighed.

    'It
started with a brutal murder, Lady Ulvercombe.'

    She
jerked backwards in alarm. Having secured her attention, he did not pause. He described
the circumstances of Gabriel Cheever's death and, while refraining from giving
any names, told her of the people who were being blackmailed by means of
extracts from a secret diary. In showing her that the disappearance of her
letter was only one detail in a much larger picture, Christopher expected to
shake her self-absorption but he was mistaken. All that concerned her was her
own situation.

    'I
have never met this Gabriel Cheever,' she said haughtily. 'Who was he?'

    'A
friend of my brother's.'

    'His
death is unfortunate but irrelevant to me.'

    'I
would dispute that, Lady Ulvercombe.'

    'Is
there any reference to me in his scandalous diary?'

    'Not
as far as I know.'

    'Then
let us forget it, Mr Redmayne,' she insisted, 'and turn our attention to the
missing letter. Did Henry give you any indication as to its contents?'