An Inconvenient Trilogy (30 page)

Chapter 12

Two weeks had passed since Stephen had visited Bow Street. He was sick of waiting for a visit from the elusive Mr Peters, but had received a note from Mr Frost, explaining that Peters had been delayed on another case. He assured Stephen that when he did arrive things would progress quickly, as he already had his other officer following Baron Kersal. Stephen was annoyed, but there was nothing he could do, so he refused to see anyone, isolated himself in his study and drank brandy.

During the third week, Stephen had finished his evening meal when Walter came in to announce that a Mr Peters was waiting to speak to him. Stephen’s head had felt as if it had been kicked to Brighton and back before being placed back on his shoulders, but he could not turn the officer away. He joined him in his study.

“Good evening, my Lord,” Mr Peters said.

“Good evening,” Stephan replied. His tone was not unfriendly, but he wanted the business over and done with. “I hope you are here to sort this mess out.”

“I will try,” Mr Peters replied. He was a young man, dark haired, tall, slim and dressed fashionably, although not expensively. To any outsider he looked like a gentleman, but anyone looking closely at his eyes, would see a hardened, world weary expression, that no cosseted gentleman would ever have. His age did not reflect the sights that he had seen in the city. “I have been told the details of the case, but I would appreciate going over them again with you.”

Stephen sighed. He did not need any more reminders of Charlotte than he already had, but he was determined to exact revenge for her sake, he was a man of his word, if nothing else. He commenced his story once more. Mr Peters listened, firing questions occasionally that resulted in Stephen going into great detail of what went on in the house.

“We need to speak to one of the girls,” Mr Peters said. “Are you aware of any that would be willing to help?”

“They were sympathetic to Miss Webster, so she said,” Stephen replied thinking over what Charlotte had told him. “They pointed me out to her as someone who might help her. They said that I was considerate, God help them if I was the best of the bunch!” He said self-depreciatively.

Mr Peters made no response to the comment, but kept the conversation on the matter in hand. “So, there was no one in particular?”

“She mentioned a girl named Laura, I think it was,” Stephen said trying to recall exactly what Charlotte had relayed. “I think she was the one who took her under her wing first of all. Yes, it was Laura. She was in the carriage when Charlotte was taken, but I think she was there by force herself. I don’t know the girl myself. Well, I may have done, but I don’t link her name to a face. It’s what single men do, Mr Peters,” Stephen said defensively, feeling that he had to excuse his behaviour in front of someone who he suspected had never visited such a place for pleasure.

Mr Peters ignored the comment. “We shall see if Laura is available tonight. We both need to speak to her.”

“Tonight? I wasn’t intending visiting anywhere tonight,” Stephen said. His head was pounding, the last thing he needed was to go and drink, and pretend to be merry with Baron Kersal when all he wanted to do was crawl into bed.

“No time like the present, my Lord,” Mr Peters said, standing. “They will be working on other innocent girls to replace the void caused by Miss Webster’s escape.”

Stephen groaned, those words were enough to ensure that he could not refuse. “Fine, I shall call for my carriage,” he said.

The two men set out on the journey to Baron Kersal’s home. It was about seven miles from London, so was away from direct scrutiny. It made the parties and entertainments that occurred there easy to be ignored by polite society.

“Who do I introduce you as?” Stephen asked as the carriage drove down the long drive.

“I’m your cousin’s son on your mother’s side that you’ve not seen since I was in leading strings. I’m not doing very well for myself, so you have brought me back to London to show me the sights,” Mr Peters said easily. “My given name is Alfred.”

“My given name is Stephen. You had better stop referring to me as ‘my Lord’, if you are my cousin,” Stephen said.

The carriage swung around the gravel circle at the head of the drive and came to a stop in front of the large, open doorway of the house. A footman opened the door and pulled down the step. “Well Alfred, come, this will be surely a night full of sights that you will not forget!” Stephen said as he climbed out of the coach.

Peters raised an eyebrow, the sights in a brothel for the rich, would be nothing compared to some of the sights he had seen in his twenty three years, but he would refrain from correcting Lord Halkyn. He would not believe him, or more likely, just not be interested.

Peters stood outside the carriage and straightened his frock coat. He took in every detail as he made a show of fixing his sleeves. The house consisted of two floors, the door and portico in the centre, with three windows either side. It was obviously a modern house, built within the last twenty years or so. The sandstone brick reflected the light of the lanterns.

“Alfred, when you are quite ready.” Stephen said, his tone a touch sarcastic at what he considered over fussing behaviour by the young man.

Stephen led the way into the hallway, nodding to the footman as he handed over his hat and gloves. A shout from the rear drew the men’s attention. Mr Peters noticed Stephen stiffen a little, but a smile was fixed to his face.

“Kersal, how are you?” Stephen asked.

“Halkyn, long time no see. Thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth. Where the devil have you been?” Baron Kersal asked, his red rimmed eyes taking in Mr Peters.

“Had to go and rusticate in the country,” Stephen said easily. “I think I’m getting old, the head doesn’t seem to clear as easily these days.”

“Good God, if you can’t take it, there’s no hope for the rest of us!” Baron Kersal said with a guffaw. “And who’s your friend?” The last was said without laughter. The rule was that not just anyone could attend the Baron’s house; he had to be asked for approval. That rule had kept the establishment exclusive and more appealing to the gentlemen who visited.

“He’s my cousin’s son; he attached himself to me while I was in the country. He’s a bit green, so I decided to show him London life in all its glory. Didn’t think you’d object while he’s family,” Stephen said with almost a challenge. It may be the Baron’s establishment, but a Lord would always outrank a Baron and Stephen would always take an opportunity to remind him of that, especially since what had happened with Charlotte.

“If he’s family, he’s very welcome,” the Baron said, but he had lost a little of his smile. He did not appreciate being reminded that he was lower ranking than anyone. In his home, he was in charge. It was obvious to him that Lord Halkyn considered himself above the rules, and he did not like that.

“Go through to the dining room, there is food and drink freshly served. You can have a feast in preparation for later,” a lecherous smile suggested exactly what would be on offer later.

Stephen nodded his thanks and led the way into the dining room. He wondered if Baron Kersal had always been such a lecherous toad, or if it was he himself who had changed. One thing he had decided was that once this was over, he would never be visiting such an establishment again.

The two gentlemen picked at the food and the drink on offer. Peters made no small talk; Stephen had to pretend to be talking to the young man most of the time. He could see that Peters was acting as if he was taking his time over choosing his drink and his food, when his eyes were everywhere. Stephen had to acknowledge that Peters was very discreet, so far.

They were approached by various acquaintances of Stephen’s as they sat and ate. Stephen introduced Peters to everyone and made him suffer the brunt of his jokes. He would have done it whoever he was with, but his aim was to let the men know that he was without money and a relative of his. Stephen did not want the extra complication of the officer being fleeced.

Peters finally put his plate down. “Right Stephen,” he said quietly. “What would you normally do now?”

“I would normally play cards and then finish up in one of the bedrooms,” Stephen said unabashedly.

“That is what we shall do then,” Peters said, rising from his seat.

Stephen looked surprised. “They will take pleasure in depriving you of whatever money you have with you and more, if you don’t watch out,” he said. He had seen men lose large amounts during the course of an evening. He normally would not have cared, but the man was in the establishment to help him. He could not in all conscience see him deprived of funds; he did not appear to be able to afford any loss.

Peter’s smiled a smile that did not change the aged expression of his eyes, but he looked amused. “Let me worry about my losses, we are here to act as you normally would,” he said quietly. A little louder, he said. “Come on, cousin, let’s see what you are made of, I feel like playing cards.”

Stephen raised his eyebrows, but did not falter in replying. “I see now why you have always given your mother reason to worry. They say a fool and his money are soon parted; come then Alfred, let me show you a master at work.”

Peters did not reply, but followed Stephen into the games room. He was a man who had seen many gaming hells and had taken part in more card games than he cared to remember. He was not one for disparaging the man who he was working with, but he was quietly confident that he would not be poorer by the night’s end.

They walked into the card room, which was adjoining the dining room. It was a room filled with smoke and had a distinct odour of both fear and exhilaration as large amounts were won and lost at the tables. They approached the table where Vingt-et-un was being played and when the game was opened to new players they both joined in. Stephen abandoned Peters to his own fate; he gave the young man some credit for knowing what he was doing, and concentrated on his own game.

As the games progressed, a small crowd gathered around the table. It seemed that the quiet confidence of Peters attracted attention when his small pot of money began to grow. Stephen watched along with the rest of the group, while the banker was beaten time after time by Peters. Stephen had decided that he had lost enough for the evening, he did not want to give Kersal or Peters any more of his money. He was impressed by the cool way that the officer handled the game and the group. Just because he was new to the group, did not prevent them from heckling his attempts to win his game.

After a while Baron Kersal approached the table with a barely suppressed scowl on his face. It would not be good for business if he looked as if he was a bad loser, but he was not pleased. It appeared that the newcomer, who he had not invited, was making a substantial dent into his evening’s profits. He was not a happy man.

“Your relation seems to be an excellent card player,” the Baron said to Stephen.

Stephen could hardly restrain his urge to pummel his fist into the Baron’s face, but a warning glance from Peters had reminded him to keep control. “Ha!” he responded, in his usual way. Only those looking very closely would have seen the tick of annoyance in the Baron’s cheek. “This is new venue luck. Believe me, his mother and his banker are in despair with his gambling. He shall probably not win again for another six months. It’s the same story time after time.”

“In that case, I hope he returns to this establishment often,” the Baron said, seemingly consoled by Stephen’s words. “Too many nights like this and I would be soon out of business.”

Peters looked at the Baron and indicated that he no longer wished to play. He left the side of the table and stood facing the Baron, saying quietly. “I have a proposition that will give you my winnings back tonight, if you are interested.”

Stephen and the Baron were immediately interested. Stephen hoped the officer still had his senses about him, he had drunk a lot. He tried to be the responsible older cousin. “Now Alfred, I said I would show you the sights, I didn’t say I would get you into trouble.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not illegal. I think you will appreciate it too, cousin,” Peters said. His voice was very calm, almost as if he was as sober as the moment they had walked through the door.

Baron Kersal looked intrigued, especially at the chance to get his money back. He indicated that the gentlemen should follow him to the side of the room. “What is your proposition?” He asked Peters directly.

Peters looked at Stephen and smiled slightly. “My cousin here thinks I have never lived because I have never been to London, but I want to show him some of the things we get up to in the country. I want my cousin’s favourite girl and I will pay all my evening’s winnings if she is allowed to be with us both. At the same time.” 

The Baron laughed loudly, which was fortunate, as it gave Stephen time to recollect himself from the shock of the words. He had not expected something like that to be suggested and wondered a little more about the officer stood before him.

“My good man, you will fit in here perfectly!” Baron Kersal said, slapping Peters on the back. “Of course you can have your woman! I’d always thought his Lordship was a bit of a prude; let’s see what he’s made of! If I wasn’t so strapped for cash, it would almost be worth letting you have her for nothing!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Peters said quietly. “I am willing to pay for all the services I require, tonight
and
in the future.”