Don't Look Back (9 page)

He smiled. "Do you really believe that was her objective?"

"I am quite certain of it. It is clear to me that she finds you fascinating, intriguing, and something of a challenge."

"I would be flattered were it not for the fact that I have the distinct impression that Celeste places all men into one of two categories. Useful and Not Useful. I have a nasty suspicion that she has decided that I fit into the former."

Lavinia tilted the parasol to get a better look at him. "You believe that she thinks she can somehow use you?"

"It is a blow to my pride, of course. Nevertheless, I am forced to conclude that it is the most likely explanation for her interest in me."

"And just how do you imagine that she might use you, sir?"

"Damned if I know," he admitted.

"Rubbish." Lavinia's hand tightened around his arm. "I think she is madly attracted to you and thinks it would be amusing to indulge in an affair."

He grinned. "As I am not the sort of man who can be put into a trance by just
any
passing mesmerist, we are unlikely to ever discover the truth of her intentions."

"I trust not."

"Are you by any chance jealous, Lavinia?"

"Of her extremely limited mesmeric skills? Certainly not."

"Not of Celeste's mesmeric talents." He lowered his voice. "Of her interest in me."

She gazed straight ahead. "Is there any reason why I should feel the pangs of jealousy?"

"No."

She brightened. "Then the subject does not arise."

"The subject has arisen. You're avoiding it."

"Really, Tobias. You are a man of honor. Your word is your bond. Of course I trust you."

"That is not quite the question I am asking."

"That nonsense about free samples." Lavinia gave him a suspicious look. "She was offering herself to you, wasn't she?"

"You know me, my dear. I have never taken the trouble to master the fine arts of flirtation and innuendo, so I cannot say for certain what she was about with that chatter."

"Bloody hell." Lavinia came to a halt and spun around to face him. "That is precisely what she was doing. That hussy as much as offered you a free sample of the extremely cheap goods she is selling. What nerve."

"You
are
jealous." For some reason he felt quite cheerful.

"Let's just say that I do not trust that woman any farther than I could throw that hackney over there."

"On that point, we are in complete agreement." Tobias looked back over his shoulder to where Celeste had been standing a few minutes ago. "The goods may be cheap, but I very much doubt that anything Mrs. Hudson offers—including samples—would prove to be free."

The sight of the unlit warehouse looming in the darkness near the river gave her a moment of nervous dread. For the first time in this endeavor she experienced true fear. It started in her palms, an icy, prickling sensation that climbed up her arms and spread through her chest. Suddenly she found it hard to breathe.

What was the matter with her? It was almost finished. She had come too far to lose her courage at this juncture.

She took a deep breath, and the disturbing sensation passed. She was in command of herself once more. Her brilliant future lay before her. All she had to do was complete this night's work and she would be on her way into the ton's glittering ballrooms and elegant drawing rooms at last.

Hoisting the lantern, she went to the door of the warehouse and opened it carefully. The rusty hinges groaned in protest.

Inside, she paused again on the threshold and surveyed the cavernous interior of the building. The flaring light from her lantern splashed sharp shadows across a jumble of empty packing crates and shipping casks. For a terrible instant they looked like so many monuments and headstones scattered about in an abandoned graveyard. She shuddered.

It is too late to turn back now. You've come too far. All the way from that dreadful little shop. Soon you will move in Society.

A rapid skittering sound emanated from a corner between two large crates. She flinched.

Rats, she thought. Just rats, fleeing from the light.

She heard the bootsteps behind her, and another cold wave of fear flashed through her. It was all right, she assured herself. He had received her message and had come to meet her, just as she had instructed. They would conduct their business and that would be the end of it. When it was over, she would be poised to move into her golden future.

"My dear Celeste," the killer said in a voice as soft and low as a lover's. "I have been waiting for you."

She knew then that something had gone terribly wrong. Another lightning bolt of freezing horror flashed through her. She started to turn, fumbling frantically with the little fan. She opened her mouth to speak so that she could bargain for her' life. This was why she had not brought the bracelet with her. Her plan had held an element of risk, so she had left the Blue Medusa in safekeeping as surety for her own life while she negotiated the new price.

But it was too late to bargain. He already had the cravat around her throat, silencing her so that she could not use her skills to save her own life. In those last moments when the red darkness clouded her brain, she knew with horrifying clarity that she had made a fatal mistake. She had known he could be ruthless, understood that he was obsessed. But she had not recognized the madness in him until now.

When it was finished, he looked down at the results of his handiwork and was quietly satisfied. The creature would never again play her tricks on him or any other man.

He picked up her reticule, opened it, and poured out the contents. It contained the usual paraphernalia one expected to find. There was a handkerchief and some coins for the hackney she would not be hailing. But what he sought was not inside.

The first stirrings of alarm went through him. He went back to the body and knelt to check the folds and pockets of the cloak.

Not there either.

A feeling uncomfortably akin to panic swept over him. He suppressed it and quickly patted down her clothing.

Still nothing.

He yanked up her skirts to see if she had concealed it between her thighs.

But there was no sign of it.

Desperate now, he rose and hoisted the lantern to check the surrounding floor. Perhaps she had dropped it during her death struggle.

But a few minutes later he was forced to confront the terrible truth. The Blue Medusa was gone. And he had just murdered the only person who could have told him where it was hidden.

"Are there any more of those curried eggs, Mrs. Chilton?" Tobias turned a page of the morning newspaper he had brought with him. "They are excellent."

"I'll bring some out, sir." Mrs. Chilton chuckled as she backed through the door that led to the kitchen.

"And another currant biscuit would go very nicely with the eggs," he added. "You do have a way with currants, Mrs. Chilton."

"I made plenty of extra," she assured him. "Had a hunch you'd be here this morning."

The door swung shut behind her.

"Indeed." Lavinia looked up from her own newspaper and eyed Tobias across the width of the table. "This is the third time in a week that you have appeared at breakfast. You are becoming predictable in your habits, sir. I vow, it has reached the point where we could set our clock by your arrival here in the mornings."

"I have reached the age at which a man must look after his constitution. They say that regular habits and a properly cooked breakfast are essential to good health."

"So you've decided to combine both vital principles of health and eat here every morning, is that it?"

"The routine also provides me with a daily walk, another extremely healthful activity."

"You did not walk here this morning. You arrived in a hackney. I saw you."

"Watching for me, were you?" He put down the paper, looking pleased. "I used a hack because it rained last night, in case you did not notice. The air is still somewhat damp."

"Oh, dear." She bit her lip, concern temporarily swamping her irritable mood. "Is your leg aching badly today?"

"Nothing a good breakfast cannot remedy." He drank some coffee with the air of a man settling in to savor the first meal of the day with hearty relish. "By the way, did I mention that you look like a sea nymph playing in the waves of a southern sea with the sunlight on your hair this morning?"

She gave him a frosty glare. "It is far too early for such poor humor, sir."

The breakfast-room door opened again. Mrs. Chilton bustled in with a dish of curried eggs and two currant biscuits. "Here you are, sir. Help yerself."

"Ah, Mrs. Chilton, your cooking is just what a man needs to fortify himself to face the day."

The heavy door knocker clanged in the distance.

Lavinia frowned. "Probably one of Emeline's friends. Mrs. Chilton, please inform whomever it is that she went out walking with Mr. Sinclair."

"Aye, madam."

Mrs. Chilton disappeared down the hall. But a moment later when the front door opened, it was not the voice of one of Emeline's many acquaintances that Lavinia heard. It was Howard Hudson's low, rich tones that echoed in the corridor.

"Hudson." Tobias did not look pleased. "What the devil is he doing here at such an uncivil hour?"

"I might remind you, sir, that you chose to visit at a rather early hour yourself." Lavinia crumpled her napkin and rose quickly. "If you will excuse me, I shall go and see what he wants."

"I'll come with you."

"That is not necessary."

Tobias ignored that comment. He was already on his feet. She knew from the look in his eyes that he was not going to allow her to banish him to the breakfast room while she greeted Howard.

"Correct me if I am mistaken," she said as she led the way out the door, "but I have the impression that you are not overfond of Dr. Hudson."

"The man is a mesmerist. I do not trust the members of his profession."

"I am a mesmerist, sir."

"A
former
mesmerist," he said as he followed her down the hall. "You have embarked upon a new career, if you will recall."

"Yes, indeed, and I also seem to recall that you are not particularly approving of my new profession either."

"That is another matter entirely."

She arrived at the entrance of the parlor at that moment and was thus saved from having to respond to his remark.

Howard paced in front of the window, his shoulders tight and hunched with tension. His clothes were rumpled. He had not bothered with a stylish knot in his neckcloth. His boots were unpolished.

Although he had his face averted so that she could not see his expression, she knew at once that something terrible had occurred.

"Howard?" She went forward quickly, conscious of Tobias behind her. "What is it? What has happened?"

Howard spun around and fixed her with his fathomless gaze. For an instant it seemed to her that she had been transported to an odd metaphysical plane. The atmosphere around her was suddenly too still. The rattle of a carriage in the street was abruptly muted, as though the sound came from a vast distance.

With a small, determined effort, she mentally shook off the strange sensation. Normal noises returned and the disturbing feeling passed. Howard's gaze appeared normal once more.

She glanced at Tobias and saw that he was studying Howard closely, but otherwise he appeared completely unaware of the brief, very curious alteration in the atmosphere. Perhaps it had all been a product of her imagination, she thought.

"Celeste is dead," Howard said heavily. "Murdered the night before last by a footpad. Or so they tell me." He put his fingers to his temples. "I still cannot bring myself to believe it. If I had not seen her body myself yesterday morning when the authorities came to inform me, I vow I would..."

"Dear God." Lavinia went forward swiftly. "You must sit, Howard. I'll have Mrs. Chilton bring in some tea."

"No." He sank down onto the edge of the sofa, looking bemused. "Please, do not go to the trouble. I could not possibly drink it."

Lavinia sat beside him. "I have some sherry. It is excellent for overcoming the effects of shock."

"No, thank you," he whispered. "You must help me, Lavinia. I am really quite desperate, you see."

Tobias went to stand in front of the window and turned so that the morning sun was at his back. Lavinia was familiar with this habit of his. She knew he chose the position because it put his own face in shadow and served to give him a better view of Howard.

"Tell us what happened," Tobias said without inflection. "Start at the beginning."

"Yes. Yes, of course." Howard massaged his temples with his fingertips, as if attempting to bring order to his troubled thoughts. Dread and despair darkened his gaze. "It is all still somewhat muddled, you see. One shock after another. I fear that I am still reeling from the blows. First the news of her death and now this other information."

Lavinia touched his sleeve. "Calm yourself, Howard. Do as Tobias suggested. Start at the very beginning of the thing."

"The beginning." Howard slowly lowered his hand and stared blankly at the carpet. "That would be a fortnight ago when I first realized that Celeste was having an affair."

"Oh, Howard," Lavinia said softly.

She glanced at Tobias. He was watching Howard with that detached studiousness that she had learned meant that he was assessing the situation and weighing the information with icy calculation. His ability to step into that remote realm both intrigued and irritated her. When he was in this mood he was oblivious to emotion and the dictates of the sensibilities that would seem natural to the situation.

"She is—was—so young and so beautiful," Howard said after a moment. "I could scarcely believe my good fortune when she consented to marry me in Bath. I think that a part of me always knew that there was a grave risk that someday I would lose her. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. But I was in love. What choice did I have?"

"You're certain that she was involved in an affair?" Tobias asked neutrally.

Howard nodded bleakly. "I cannot be certain how long it had been going on, but once I tumbled to the truth, there was no way I could deny it. Believe me, I made every effort."

"Did you confront her?" Tobias asked.

Lavinia winced at the relentless manner in which Tobias was pressing Howard. She tried to signal him silently to soften his attitude, but he apparently did not notice.

Howard shook his head. "I could not bear to do so. I told myself that she was young, that the liaison was nothing more than a brief adventure. I hoped that she would eventually grow bored with the other man."

Tobias watched him. "Do you know the identity of her lover?"

"No."

"You must have been curious, to say the least," Tobias said.

The very flatness of his words made Lavinia tense. His tone might have been perfectly even and uninflected, but the bone-deep chill in his eyes made her catch her breath. She suddenly understood. If Tobias ever found himself in Howard's position, he would move heaven and earth to learn the identity of the lover. She did not want to think about what he would do after that.

"I suspect that she went to meet him the night before last," Howard whispered. "I had learned her small habits and ways well. I sensed her excitement and anticipation on those occasions when she planned to slip away to be with him. We were to attend a demonstration of animal magnetism performed by a gentleman named Cosgrove, who claims to be able to effect amazing cures with his mesmeric skills. But at the last moment she feigned an indisposition and declared that she would stay home. She insisted that I go. She was well aware that I had very much looked forward to witnessing Cosgrove at work."

"So you did attend the demonstration?" Lavinia asked. She kept her voice soothing and gentle in an attempt to compensate for Tobias's interrogation.

"Yes. The man proved to be a complete charlatan and I was vastly disappointed. When I returned home, I discovered that Celeste was gone. I knew then that she was with him, whoever he is. I lay awake all night waiting for her to return. She never came home. The next morning the authorities informed me that her body had been found inside a warehouse near the river. I have spent the past day and a half in a haze, dealing with the funeral arrangements."

"Was she stabbed?" Tobias asked almost casually. "Or shot?"

"Strangled, they said." Howard gazed bleakly at the wall. "I'm told the cravat the bastard used was still around her throat when she was found."

"My God." Unconsciously, Lavinia raised a hand to her own throat and swallowed.

"Any witnesses?" Tobias asked.

"None that I know of," Howard whispered. "No one has come forward and I have no hope that any will. As I said, the authorities believe that she was the victim of a footpad."

"Very few footpads use cravats as murder weapons," Tobias said evenly. "Generally speaking, they don't even wear them. Footpads are not much interested in fashion, in my experience."

"I was told they suspect that the cravat was stolen earlier in the evening from some gentleman the killer robbed," Howard explained.

"A bit of a stretch," Tobias muttered.

He sounded exceedingly callous, Lavinia thought. "That is quite enough, sir."

There was a short pause.

Howard and Tobias met each other's eyes for that moment. Lavinia recognized the look as one of those silent, extremely irritating, man-to-man exchanges that completely excluded women.

"Who found the body?" Tobias asked.

Howard shook his head. "Does it matter?"

"It might," Tobias said.

Howard rubbed his temples again, concentrating. "I believe the man who came to inform me of Celeste's death mentioned that one of the street lads who sleep in the abandoned buildings near the river led the authorities to her. But there is more to this. Something else has happened that I must tell you about, Lavinia. Something very odd."

She touched his shoulder. "What is it?"

"I received a caller late last night." Howard gave her a stark look through a fan of spread fingers. "Indeed, it was nearly dawn when he arrived. I had sent the housekeeper away because I could not bear to have anyone else around while I came to terms with my grief. The stranger pounded until I awoke and went downstairs to open the door."

"Who was he?" Lavinia asked.

"A most unpleasant little man who wouldn't step into the light, so I never got a good look at him." Howard slowly lowered his hands to his thighs. "He called himself Mr. Nightingale. Said he was in the business of arranging certain types of transactions."

"What sort of transactions?" Tobias asked.

"He told me that he acts as a go-between for those who wish to buy and sell antiquities in what he called an
extremely discreet
manner. Apparently he guarantees anonymity for both buyer and seller."

"In other words the transactions are not always of a legal nature," Tobias said.

"I got that impression, yes." Howard sighed heavily. "This man, Mr. Nightingale, told me that he had heard rumors to the effect that a very valuable antiquity had recently been stolen and that Celeste had been involved in the theft."

Lavinia was dumbfounded. "Celeste stole a relic?"

"I do not believe that for a moment." Howard waved the possibility aside with an impatient movement of one long-fingered hand. "My Celeste was no thief. Nevertheless, Nightingale claimed that word had gone out in the underworld to the effect that she was murdered for the damned thing."

"What was the nature of this antiquity?" Tobias asked, showing the first signs of genuine interest in the proceedings.

Howard's brows bunched together in a line above his patrician nose. "Nightingale described it as an ancient gold bracelet of Roman design. It was originally discovered here in England, a remnant of the days when this country was a province of the Roman Empire. It is set with a strange blue cameo carved with the image of Medusa."

"What did Mr. Nightingale want from you?" Lavinia asked.

"Apparently the bloody thing is most unusual and is considered quite valuable to a certain sort of collector."

"And Nightingale makes his living off unusual collectors who favor odd antiquities?" Tobias concluded.

"So he claimed." Howard did not look at him. He focused his attention entirely on Lavinia. "Nightingale assumes that I know something concerning the whereabouts of the missing cameo. He made it clear that he can arrange to sell it for a fortune. He offered to pay me a fee if I will turn it over to him."