The Worldly Widow (11 page)

"Quite,
"
responded the
attaché
amiably. "But to get back to the Palais Royal. Soon after Majors Bodley and Seymour were seen in conversation with Mademoiselle Dupres, several halfpay French officers walked into the Cafe de Foy. Then all hell broke loose. No one is
qu
ite certain what happened next. What
is
known is that about thirty minutes later, a woman
'
s scream rent the air. Captain Mercer, you were on duty, and were observed in the gardens at that time in the vicinity of the Cafe de Foy, going to the aid of an unknown Englishman.
"

"Was I?
"
murmured the Captain evasively.

"Who was the Englishman?
"
persisted Somerset.

"I recollect it was I,
"
interposed Dalmar, studiously toying
with hi
s
gold signet ring. "What of it?
"

"Only this,
"
answered the
attaché
. "The Englishman was seen to be protecting a young woman. Was she Mademoiselle Dupres?
"

"You have my word that it was not.
"

"Then she was the English woman whom you escorted from the Maison
d
'
Or.
"

It was not a question, but a statement of fact, which Dalmar might affirm or contradict at his pleasure. He chose, instead, to ignore it. If the other gentlemen present
found much to speculate on this
exchange, no expression or movement or word of theirs gave any indication of it.

Somerset
'
s close scrutiny was met by an equally steady stare from the Earl.

"Thank you,
"
murmured the
attaché
, and turned his attention to Captain Mercer. "Captain, just one small item. You saw Captain Zeitler fall?
"

"I did.
"

"Please, in your own words, tell us how it happened.
"

"There
'
s not much to tell. After Lord Dalmar left the gardens, I found myself in the thick of it outside the Cafe de Foy. Zeitler was making short work of some Englishman or other. I wanted to help the poor fellow, but my hands were full. There was a shot. When the smoke cleared, Zeitler was on his knees. It was only later that we
discovered
that Zeitler had been shot through the heart.
"

"Why do you refer to the Englishman as 'poor fellow
'
?
"

Seymour seemed to consider the question. Finally, he answered, "He didn
'
t seem to be handling himself very well.
"

"Do you think he put that bullet in Zeitler?
"

Somerset
'
s bald question startled a laugh out of the Captain. "It never once entered my mind,
"
he exclaimed.

"Why not?
"
persisted the
attaché
.

Mercer
'
s uneasy glance quickly traversed the stoic faces of his companions. "Because he was an English gentleman,
"
he answered. "Zeitler
'
s assailant was obviously a coward. One doesn
'
t draw a pistol on an adversary when one is engaged in swordplay.
"

"Then what do you think happened?
"

"It
'
s impossible to say. Zeitler wasn
'
t exactly a popular fellow, not even with his own kind. The man was a bully. Anyone might have used that melee as a cover for paying off old scores. If you ask me, the Englishman was just lucky. In another minute Zeitler
would have finished him off. Y
ou don
'
t really think the Englishman did it, do you?
"

It was the
attaché
'
s
turn to be evasive. Ignoring Mercer
'
s question, he addressed himself to Majors Seymour and Bodley. "Getting back to the Cafe de Foy
…
who else was present that night?
"

The two majors exchanged glances.

"No one of any significance that I can think of,
"
said Major Seymour cautiously. "Mostly Prussians, and the odd Englishman.
"

"The odd Englishman? What does that mean?
"

"Sightseers, I suppose, or history devotees. You know, 'Here I stand on the sacred spot where the French Revolution is reputed to have had its genesis.
'
There are some who are positively daft about such foolishness. Well, look at Waterloo. Visitors have been swarming over the battlefield like flies on a carcass. It
'
s offensive, if you want my opinion. Where were these dandies when we needed them? I
'
ll tell you where they were…
"

"Thank you, Major Seymour,
"
interposed Somerset with quiet determination. "I don
'
t think there
'
s a man here who doesn
'
t agree with you. May I draw your mind back to the night in question?
"
His eyes touched on each man in turn. "Did anyone else happen to see either Monique Dupres or the unidentified Englishman outside the Cafe de Foy?
"

When it was evident that no one had anything further to add, Somerset rose to his feet. "I rely on your confidentiality, gentlemen,
"
he said. "For all intents and purposes, this meeting never took place. Ransome, Dalmar, I should like a word with you in private.
"
And in very short order, the
attaché
escorted Messrs. Mercer, Bodley, and Seymour to the door. When he returned to his place behind the desk his alert eyes fell on Ransome.

That gentleman returned the look with raised eyebrows and remarked mildly, "I swear I was asleep in Lord Dalmar
'
s rooms throughout most of the ruckus. Unfortunately, I was alone and can offer no alibi.
"

Somerset smiled at this mild rebuke. He observed, "At the risk of repeating myself ad nauseam, Colonel, may I say again that I am not investigating the slaying of Mademoiselle Dupres? The French authorities are satisfied that Captain Zeitler was the perpetrator of that savage act.
"

"Then how may I help you?
"
asked Ransome.

"An explanation, Colonel. That is all I require from you.
"

"I
'
m listening.
"

"What is your interest in Mrs. Annabelle Jocelyn?
"

Colonel Ransome straightened in his chair, as if becoming aware for the first time of its inadequate confines. He stretched his legs without haste and by degrees settled his large frame into a more comfortable position. Lord Dalmar looked to be suffering from acute boredom. Finally Ransome remarked, "I have no interest in the lady.
"

"And yet on the very morning after the riot in the Palais Royal, you were at the Hotel Breteuil asking for her direction.
"

"How very well informed you are,
"
drawled Ransome.

"Very,
"
agreed the
attaché
. "Why, Colonel? Why the interest in Mrs. Annabelle Jocelyn?
"

"I had undertaken the office on behalf of a friend, nothing more.
"

Somerset
'
s eyes traveled to the bored figure of the Earl, then returned to the man he was questioning. "And your friend was unable to undertake this office for himself?
"

"Something like that.
"

"May I have his name?
"

Into the silence, Dalmar
'
s bored voice drawled, "I am that friend, as you very well know, Somerset.
"

"Ah,
"
said the
attaché
, and smiled benevolently upon his lordship. Colonel Ransome, having served his usefulness, was thereupon dismissed with as many civilities as had been offered to his fellow officers.

The door was hardly shut upon him when Dalmar exclaimed
violently, "What the devil do you think you
'
re up to, James? You have no jurisdiction over officers in His Majesty
'
s service. I
'
m surprised they didn
'
t tell you to go jump in the lake.
"

The
attaché
laughed softly. "You know me better than that, my boy. This directive comes from the Duke himself. Your friends are under orders to cooperate.
"

''And for myself?
"

"Ah well. Now that you
'
ve sold out, you
'
re a free agent. I rely on the ties of friendship to secure your cooperation.
"

"The devil you do!
"

"My dear boy, you
'
re surely not forgetting who it was who plucked you from a watery grave when you were ten or thereabouts, yes, and saved your skin on more occasions that I care to remember?
"

"You fraud!
"
said Dalmar, laughing. "You never rescued me from scrapes, but you administered a beating. In retrospect, I don
'
t know why I always looked forward to holidays at Gilcomston.
"

"If I did beat you, you deserved it. You should thank me. Your uncle would have used you more severely. How have you been, my boy?
"

Grins were exchanged, and hands clasped in a firm handshake.

"Capital,
"
said Dalmar. "And yourself?
"

"Oh, getting by. Here, this calls for a celebration. It
'
s years since we last broke a bottle together. In the summer of six, wasn
'
t it, shortly after your return from India? After Spain, you never came home on furlough. Why?
"

Dalmar leaned back in his chair and crossed one foot over the other. A glass of brandy was thrust into his hand. "What was there to come home to?
"
he murmured.

Somerset
'
s keen eyes swept over the relaxed figure of his companion. Very gently he said, "You refine too much on old history. No one blamed you for what happened to your father. The coroner exonerated you. Besides, that happened all of— what?—seventeen years ago? How old were you then? A lad of eighteen?
"

"A man of seventeen,
"
corrected Dalmar.

"It was an accident.
"

"Was it? Rumor said otherwise.
"

"Fustian! That fabrication that the duel with your father was over some woman or other? Nobody who knew you gave any credence to that particular piece of spite.
"

"Ah well, my father and I were never friends. It
'
s not to be wondered that the gossip mongers made capital of that fact. When all is said and done, it was my hand that struck him down.
"

"Is that what your subsequent career was all about? To atone for your father
'
s death?
"

"Scarcely!
"

The patent bitterness behind that one word held both men silent for a full minute.

Abruptly changing the subject, the older man asked, "How was Spain?
"

"Hot as hell. But, as you see, I
'
m a survivor.
"

"You never married? I seem to remember, shortly after your mother
'
s
death, there was a betrothal…
"

"Of very short duration. The lady
'
s relations got wind of the old scandal. It
'
s not every family that would welcome into its ranks a man who committed patricide.
"

"I suspect, my boy, you
'
ll find that things are very different, now that you
'
ve come into your uncle
'
s title and fortune,
"
said Somerset cheerfully.