The Repentant Rake (46 page)

    'That
is absurd,' he told her.

    'If
he had not met me, he would still be alive.'

    'Not
necessarily.'

    'He
only turned his back on his friends because of me,' she argued. 'In that world,
he was safe, popular and successful. Gabriel had a name.'

    'But
not one of which he could be altogether proud' said Christopher. 'His was an ugly
world, Mrs Cheever, full of cruelty, deception and licentiousness. I know,
believe me. I've had to wade through that swamp myself. What you did' he went
on, 'was to take him away from it all. You not only gave him a new life, you
saved his soul.'

    Tears
welled up in her eyes. 'That's what I try to tell myself, Mr Redmayne.'

    'It's
the truth.'

    'Thank
you.'

    'Where
was he on the night of his murder?'

    'I am
not sure,' she said, biting her lip. 'I know where he was supposed to be.'

    'And
where was that?'

    Lucy
hesitated. 'I cannot give you a name.'

    'I
accept that.'

    'If
it were known that he was living there, it could be fatal for him.'

    'Nobody
will be told a thing, Mrs Cheever. On my word of honour.'

    'What
about Mr Bale?' she asked suspiciously. 'He is bound to ask why you are going
there. Mr Bale is a good man but he is no friend to the Old Religion. His duty
is to suppress it. What will you tell him?'

    Christopher
was explicit. 'No more than he needs to know.'

    Lucy
closed her eyes and agonised for minutes before making a decision. 'Gabriel was
going to take instruction that night,' she said at length. 'It was somewhere in
Warwick Lane.'

    'Warwick
Lane?'

    'Near
the junction of Newgate Street. Do not ask me to tell you which house,' she
said forlornly, 'because I have sworn never to divulge its exact whereabouts.
But that is where Gabriel would have been, Mr Redmayne. My husband may well
have been murdered somewhere in that vicinity.'

    'Thank
you,' he said with feeling. 'We will go there at once.'

    'You
will search for him, will you?'

    'No,
Mrs Cheever. All that we will hunt for are some stones.'

    'Stones?'

    'Yes,
Mr Bale tells me there were some small stones caught up in Gabriel's coat. He's
kept them as evidence. If we can find out where they came from, we'll know
where he was struck down.'

    'I
see.'

    'At
least we now have some idea where to look,' he said getting up.

    She
held his arm. 'As for the other things I told you…'

    'Nobody
will ever know anything about them from me.'

    'Thank
you.'

    'But
what about your mother?' he said. 'Will you tell her the truth now?' She shook
her head. 'It might be a way to bring you closer together.'

    'Mother
is too ill to cope with terrible news. If she heard that I had betrayed her by
going behind her back, she would never forgive me. She might even say that
Gabriel's death was a judgement on me. In a way,' she confessed, 'I suppose it
is.'

    'No,
Mrs Cheever. You were unlucky, that's all. It was a quirk of fate.'

    'Catch
them, Mr Redmayne,' she urged. 'Catch them all.'

    'We
will.'

    After
giving her more assurances, he went into the dining room to tell Susan that he
was leaving. Sorry to see him go, she could tell from his expression that Lucy
had confided in him. When she accompanied him to the door to wave him off,
something was troubling her.

    'Mr
Redmayne?'

    'Yes?'

    'Earlier
today, you dictated a letter for me to write.'

    'Yes
- to Miss Celia Hemmings.'

    'Why
did you ask me to send it?'

    'There's
a simple answer to that.'

    'Is
there?'

    'Yes,'
he said with a grin. 'I want to read her reply.'

    Celia
Hemmings took time to make up her mind. She was tempted to accept the invitation,
if only to gain more insight into the family from which Gabriel Cheever sprang.
But she could see the perils implicit in the situation as well. A meeting with
a bereaved sister could be embarrassing for both of them. After mulling it
over, she came round to the view that nothing was to be gained by a meeting
with a woman she did not know and had no desire to befriend. Reaching for a
sheet of paper, she dashed off a quick note.

    Five
minutes later, it was being carried towards Knightrider Street.

    'Why
are we going to Warwick Lane?' asked Jonathan Bale, walking beside him.

    'That's
where Gabriel went on the night of the murder,' said Christopher.

    'Why?'

    'To
see a friend.'

    'Is
that what his wife told you?'

    'Yes,
Mr Bale.'

    'Why
had she kept the information back until now?'

    'Who
knows?' said Christopher evasively. 'Bereavement has strange effects.'

    They
turned into Creed Lane and headed north, wondering if they were following the
route that Gabriel Cheever had taken on the night he was murdered.

    'Warwick
Lane is not far,' noted Jonathan. 'It's in Faringdon Ward Within. Not an
impossible distance from Paul's Wharf. They might have killed him there and
brought his body to Baynard's Castle Ward.'

    'That's
only supposition.'

    'I
agree.'

    'He
could have been brought to the wharf by boat.'

    'That,
too, is possible. I just have the feeling that the murder did not occur in my
ward. If I could prove that,' he confessed, 'it would make me feel better.'

    Christopher
smiled. 'To prove that your ward was innocent?'

    'Oh,
there's nothing innocent about it, Mr Redmayne. You should walk through its
streets at night. All sorts of crimes take place there under the cover of
darkness.'

    'I
dare say.'

    'We
have our share of murders, alas.'

    'It
was how we first met, Mr Bale. When one of my clients was killed.'

    'I am
not likely to forget.'

    'Nor
me,' said Christopher. 'It was my first commission. I spent all that time working
on the drawings but the house was never built. At least, this latest commission
will not be abandoned because of a murder,' he went on happily. 'Sir Julius
insists that he still wants his new house.'

    'Yes,
Mr Redmayne, he mentioned that to me.'

    Christopher
was surprised. 'You've met Sir Julius?'

    'He
called on me earlier,' said Jonathan. 'When you came to fetch me, Sir Julius
had only just left. He wanted to thank me for my part in the arrest.'

    'Quite
rightly.'

    'Then
he more or less ordered me to invite him in.'

    'That
sounds like Sir Julius Cheever.'

    'We
talked for a long time.'

    'I
knew that the two of you would get on.'

    'You
should not have told him about the Battle of Worcester,' said Jonathan, turning
to him. 'It's something I never speak about.'

    'Why
not? Are you ashamed of your part in it?'

    'Quite
the opposite.'

    'Then
you must have enjoyed meeting one of your colonels in that battle.'

    'I
did, Mr Redmayne. Sir Julius is an interesting man.'

    'And
an unpredictable one.'

    They
crossed Ludgate Street and continued along Ave Maria Lane. Though they were
chatting easily, both of them kept their eyes peeled for any lanes or alleys
that might have been used in the ambush of Gabriel Cheever. At the next
junction, they crossed into Warwick Lane itself and carried on until they
almost got to Newgate Street. Jonathan spotted an alleyway to the left and
decided to explore it, studying the ground with care as he did so. Unable to
find what he was after, he gave up the search and went back to Warwick Lane to
discover that Christopher had vanished. Assuming that his friend had turned
into Newgate Street, he walked in that direction but a call brought him to an
abrupt halt.

    'Mr
Bale!' shouted Christopher.

    'Where
are you?' asking Jonathan, looking around.

    'Down
here!'

    Another
narrow alleyway ran off to the left and bent sharply. Christopher's voice was
coming from round the corner. Jonathan lengthened his stride and went down the
alleyway. When he came round the bend, he saw that his friend was kneeling
down.

    'Take
a look at these, Mr Bale,' said Christopher.

    'Stones?'

    'Hundreds
of them.'

    Jonathan
joined him and bent down to scoop up a handful of small white stones. Holding
them on the palm of one hand, he used the other to reach in his pocket. When he
brought out the stones that had been caught up in the dead man's coat, he
placed them beside the others. Christopher scrutinised them.

    'A
perfect match!' he observed.

    'I've
never seen stones like this anywhere in my ward,' said Jonathan, feeling their
texture. 'They're like chippings from a statue. There must be a stonemason
nearby.'

    'Then
he deserves our thanks,' said Christopher with a grin. 'I think we may have
stumbled on the scene of the crime, Mr Bale. And all because you kept a few
stones in your pocket.'

    Jonathan
looked around. A number of houses backed on to the alleyway. Some had doors to
their gardens. Even in daylight, it was a fairly private place. At night, it
would make an ideal venue in which someone could lurk.

    'Who
was this friend that Mr Cheever was visiting?' wondered Jonathan.

    'His
wife refused to tell me.'

    'Her
husband was killed here. I'm certain of it. They must have taken him to Paul's
Wharf across the back of a horse.' He scratched his head. 'Why kill him when
they could have stolen the diary while he was out of the house? And if they did
have reason to murder Gabriel Cheever, why move him? Why not leave the body
here?'

    'They
had to go to his house, remember,' said Christopher. 'My guess is that they
were fearful of being discovered so they threw his body across a horse, took
Gabriel with them, used his key to steal what they wanted then went down to the
river to find a hiding place for the corpse.'

    'Paul's
Wharf. They dumped the body beside the warehouse,' recalled Jonathan. 'It had
far less chance of being discovered there than in this alley.'

    'They
reckoned without Mr Warburton's dog.'

    Jonathan
tossed all the stones away. 'We need to search for witnesses,' he said. 'It may
just be that someone heard or saw something suspicious that night. I'll start
with the houses that back on to the alley.'

    'You'll
have to do that on your own, I fear,' said Christopher.

    'It's
not my job, Mr Redmayne. I want to help you to hunt down those accomplices. I
know two of the constables in this ward. They can knock on doors in my stead.
I'll go and speak to them. But thank you for bringing me here,' he said solemnly.
'Now we know where he was killed. That's put my mind at rest.'

    'Good.
I'll get back to Knightrider Street to continue the search.'

    'For
what?'

    'Somebody
with neat handwriting, Mr Bale.'