The Repentant Rake (47 page)

    'Stay
as long as you wish, Sir Julius,' said Lucy Cheever. 'You're very welcome.'

    'I'll
inconvenience you no longer than is necessary,' he said. 'But I would like to
wait until Mr Redmayne gets back. Where has he gone, Susan?'

    'For
a walk with Mr Bale,' said his daughter.

    'I
met the worthy constable when you turned me out into the street.'

    'I
did
not
turn you out, Father.'

    He
gave a chuckle. 'You told me how close Mr Bale lived because you knew that I'd
want to speak to the fellow. We had a long talk. Did you know he was a
shipwright?'

    'No,'
she said.

    'He
spoke very highly of Mr Redmayne.'

    'I
can understand that.'

    'So
can I,' said Lucy. 'Mr Redmayne has been so good to me. Whenever I look at that
face of his, I remember that he got those scars fighting for his life against
Gabriel's killer.'

    They
were in the parlour at the house in Knightrider Street. Sir Julius was anxious
for the latest news. One man might be in custody but there were accomplices
still at liberty. He was very disappointed not to be able to confront his son's
killer. It made him even more eager to take part in the hunt for the others.

    'How
long will they be?' he said impatiently

    'I
have no idea, Father.'

    'But
they will come back here?'

    'Mr
Redmayne promised that he would.'

    'They
have not gone all that far,' volunteered Lucy.

    'I
wish I'd been here when they left,' said Sir Julius, tapping his foot. 'I could
have gone with them. They obviously went in search of more evidence.'

    'It might
be best if you did not interfere,' suggested his daughter.

    'Interfere?
It was my son who was murdered Susan.'

    'His
killer is now in prison. Thanks to Mr Redmayne and Mr Bale. They can manage
very well on their own, Father, without having you under their feet.'

    'I'm
under nobody's feet.'

    'No,
Sir Julius,' said Lucy. 'Of course not. But Susan makes a sound point. They
have worked so well on their own, it might be easier if they continue that
way.'

    'What
am I supposed to do - sit on my hands and wait?'

    'Yes,'
said Susan firmly.

    'It's
foreign to my nature.'

    She
laughed. 'You need hardly tell me that.'

    'I
want to be involved in the
action?
' he declared.

    Sir
Julius pulled himself to his feet and crossed to the window. Susan gestured an
apology at Lucy who responded with a tolerant smile. Both women were relieved
when he saw something that made him hurry out of the room to open the front
door. Hoping that Christopher had returned, Susan went out after him. Lucy
waited with trepidation, unsure whether or not Christopher had kept his
promise. She had entrusted him with a secret that could be dangerous in the
wrong hands. As soon as he came into the room with the others, however, she
knew that he had not betrayed her. His greeting was warm, his smile full of
gratitude.

    'Where
have you been?' demanded Sir Julius.

    'Father!'
scolded Susan. 'Let Mr Redmayne catch his breath.'

    'I
want to know.'

    'We
were looking for the scene of the crime, Sir Julius,' said Christopher. 'Acting
on information from an anonymous source, we went to Warwick Lane and found what
we have been after for some time.'

    His
version of events was succinct and carefully edited. Lucy was relieved that he
made no reference to her, though she was distressed to think that her husband
had been murdered in one place then transported through the streets to the
wharf. Susan was delighted to have Christopher back in the house and signalled
with a glance that she had something for him. Sir Julius kept pressing for
details that Christopher did not give.

    'Where
did this information come from?' he asked.

    'That's
immaterial,' said Christopher. 'The point is that we now know who killed your
son and where the crime occurred. All that is left to establish is motive.'

    'How
will you do that?'

    'By
gathering evidence.'

    'Let
me help you.'

    'No,
Sir Julius. This is work for Mr Bale and me.'

    'Three
men are better than two.'

    'Not
in this case. We know what to look for and where to find it.'

    Sir
Julius was hurt. 'Am I to be excluded altogether from the hunt?'

    'Yes,
Father,' said Susan. 'I told you not to impede Mr Redmayne.'

    'That's
not what he's doing, Miss Cheever,' said Christopher. 'I have great sympathy
with your father and I'm grateful for his offer of assistance. But it is not
what we need at this point. We have to move stealthily.'

    'Is
there no role at all for me?' asked Sir Julius.

    'Wait
until we get back, Sir Julius. Here or at the King's Head.'

    'The King's
Head it will be,' said the other disconsolately. 'I've no wish to intrude here
any longer. Where will you go, Mr Redmayne?'

    'I
have to see someone in Bedford Street.'

    'Another
of your anonymous informants?' said Sir Julius sceptically.

    'Oh,
no. This gentleman is far from anonymous. I wonder if you would excuse us if I
ask for a moment alone with your daughter, Sir Julius?' asked Christopher,
moving to the door. 'I will not keep her a minute.'

    Susan
did not wait for her father's permission. She followed Christopher into the
hall and closed the door behind them. They spoke in whispers.

    'You
had a reply?' he said.

    'Yes,
Mr Redmayne,' she said, handing over the letter that she pulled from her
sleeve. 'It arrived just before Father did.'

    'What
does she say?'

    'Miss
Hemmings declines my invitation.'

    Christopher
looked at the distinctive handwriting and felt a surge of triumph. 'It is just
as well,' he said. 'For she will be quite unable to meet you now.'

    Unaware
of developments elsewhere, Henry Redmayne was still suffering the torments of
the damned. He writhed in unremitting pain. A blackmail demand had been issued
and a death threat made. All that he needed to compound his misery was an
unexpected visit from his censorious father. If the Dean of Gloucester were to
arrive on the heels of Lord Ulvercombe, he thought, he would at least be on
hand to identify his son's dead body. He rebuked himself yet again for his
folly in writing so passionately to his mistress. It had earned him a night of
ecstasy but the memory of that was of little practical use to him; indeed, he
now looked back on it with dread. Lady Ulvercombe had been a spirited lover but
an indiscreet one. At least, he consoled himself, he would never have to see
her again.

    The
sound of the doorbell made him jump from his chair in the dining room. When his
brother was shown in, he clasped him like a drowning man about to go under the
water for the last time.

    'Praise
God!' he exclaimed with unaccustomed sincerity. 'You're back.'

    'And
I bring glad tidings, Henry,' said Christopher.

    'You
found my letter?'

    'No,
but I've brought one that may turn out to be far more important. The crisis is
past,' he announced. 'You can breathe freely again.'

    'What
do you mean?'

    'The
killer has been arrested. He's languishing in a prison cell. In addition to
that, we've stopped any further extracts from the diary being printed.'

    Henry
was not reassured. 'How does that help me?'

    'The
death threat has vanished.'

    'Not
if my
billet-doux
finds its way to Lord Ulvercombe.'

    'I
doubt if that will happen, Henry,' said his brother. 'The man who has it will
be too busy trying to make his escape when he learns that his accomplice is
behind bars.'

    'And
who is this man?'

    'We
are still not quite certain,' admitted Christopher.

    'Then
why come rushing in here to announce a false dawn?'

    'Are
you not pleased that we have captured a vicious killer?'

    'Of course,'
said Henry petulantly. 'The only thing that would make me more pleased would be
to hear that Lady Ulvercombe was locked up in the same cell with him. I hear no
relief in what you tell me. Whoever has that letter holds the whiphand over
me.'

    'Not
for much longer.'

    'You
do not even know who he is.'

    'I'm
fairly certain who his accomplice is. Arrest her and we will get to him.'

    'Her?'
said Henry. 'A woman is involved?'

    'That
calligraphy was too neat for a man's hand,' explained Christopher. 'When I
sniffed the letter sent to Peter Wickens, I caught a faint whiff of perfume.'
He clicked his fingers. 'Where are the blackmail demands sent to you, Henry?'

    'Why?'
'

    'I
need the second one now.'

    'I
carry both of them with me,' said Henry, rummaging in his pocket. 'As a
penance.' He found the letters and handed them over. 'Take them.'

    Christopher
found the second of the two demands and set it on the table, placing the letter
to Susan Cheever beside it. There was no possibility of error. The same hand
had written both letters. Over his shoulder, Henry noticed a signature.

    'Celia
Hemmings!'

    'She
got hold of your
billet-doux.'

    'How?'

    'By accident,
probably,' said Christopher. 'Do you remember putting Lady Ulvercombe in touch
with her regarding a chambermaid?'

    'Vaguely.'

    'The
girl had worked for Miss Hemmings and her first loyalty was to her. My guess is
that she stumbled upon your letter, sensed its potential and gave it to her
former mistress. That's putting the kindest construction on it,' he conceded.
'It's just as likely that Miss Hemmings instructed her to look for compromising
material. She is clearly well versed in the art of blackmail.'

    'I'll
throttle her!' yelled Henry.

    'You'll
do nothing of the kind.'

    'Celia
Hemmings is a witch!'

    'She's
a very cunning woman,' said Christopher with a hint of admiration. 'She took me
in completely at first. But you can stay here, Henry. Having finally unmasked
her, I insist on being the one to confront Miss Hemmings. Jonathan Bale can
have the pleasure of making the actual arrest.'

    'I
want to be there, Christopher!'

    'No.'

    'I
need to repossess that letter before anyone else sees it.'

    'I'll
take care of all your correspondence,' said Christopher, putting all three
letters into his pocket. 'Besides, Miss Hemmings may not have Lady Ulvercombe's
letter. It may well be kept by her accomplice. I suggest that you stay here and
toast your release. Send for the best wine in your cellar, Henry.'

    'I
drank it all during my ordeal.'

    'Then
send out for more. You can afford it now that you will not have to pay five
hundred guineas. Enjoy your freedom.'

    'What
I want to enjoy is the sight of Celia Hemmings being apprehended.'

    'Leave
that to Mr Bale and me.'

    'Why
do you need him? Take me instead.'

    'He's
earned the right, Henry, He's also made a new friend in Sir Julius Cheever.'