Lord Scoundrel Dies (4 page)

Sarah had become increasing anxious as the
day had progressed and by the appointed hour was in a state of high
anxiety about the proposed escapade, despite the fact that it had
been her idea. ‘But what if you get caught?’ she had demanded, just
as Harry was about to leave.

‘I’ll try not to. Truly I will.’

‘Yes, but it’s awfully dangerous. Lord
Sutton is not a very nice man and if he were to catch you –’

‘Now
you discover that the man is not very nice? Two nights ago he
was the most attractive man in London.’

‘Attractive, yes, but I really did know he
wasn’t a very nice man. That was half the pleasure of dancing with
him. To dance with a scoundrel felt awfully daring.’

‘And look where that got you.’

‘Don’t keep reminding me. I feel quite
dreadful.’

‘Idiot.’

‘That’s as may be, but if he finds you
–.’

‘Rest assured, I have no intention of
getting caught.’

Sarah, to her credit, had looked both
miserable and guilty. ‘I should come with you. I can’t let you do
this by yourself.’

‘You jolly well can. You’re
not temperamentally inclined for this type of thing whereas
according to no less than
three
of my sainted aunts, I was born to be hanged. Or
at the very least, soundly whipped on a semi-regular basis.
Besides, it would be just my luck we’d get into the wretched place
and you’d have hysterics from being over stimulated.’

‘I would do nothing of the kind,’ her cousin
had said, offended.

‘Whatever the case, it is better I go alone.
Besides, I’ve only managed to steal one set of boy’s clothing.’

‘Yes and aren’t you enjoying them. Honestly,
I believe you’re relishing this entire affair.’

‘I am a bit,’ Harry had confessed with a
grin, as she’d opened the window and stuck a foot out. ‘It’s the
most fun I’ve had since coming up to London.’

‘What are you
doing
?’ Her cousin,
observing Harry’s actions, had managed to shriek in a whisper. ‘You
can’t go out the window! We do have doors, you know.’

‘There are still too many servants prowling
about and Uncle Isaiah has yet to go to bed. The window will do me
nicely.’ And she had matched word to deed before Sarah could
protest further, grabbing the drainpipe, which was situated
conveniently close by and climbing quickly down to the pavement
below. Looking up, she’d waved at her cousin, whose white, strained
face was peering down at her from above. ‘Make sure you leave the
front door unlatched for me. I shouldn’t be too long.’

It was true enough. Either she’d find the
necklace and return triumphant or she’d fail and they would be
forced to think of the best way to break the news of the theft of
the family heirloom to Sarah’s parents. Having discussed it at
length, that was an option neither of the girls relished.

There were a few people about but she walked
with the confidence of somebody who was supposed to be out and
about and nobody paid her the slightest attention. Lord Sutton
lived on Hill Street, which was not a mile distant and it took her
only ten minutes of brisk walking before she found herself outside
his house. The soft glow of candlelight could be seen through a
chink in the closed curtains but that meant nothing. A light would
be left burning for the master’s return. At this hour there might
still be one or two servants about – his lordship’s valet, most
likely – but in her aunt’s household and that of her own household
back home, the majority of the servants went to bed early so they
could begin their days at the unseasonable hour such employment
entailed. She was reasonably confident of being able to dodge a
servant or two.

‘At least I hope I can,’ Harry muttered as
she crossed the street. ‘If I’m wrong, it will all be over very
quickly.’

She had gone through
various reasons in her head what she would say if she were
discovered by a servant or, God forbid, Lord Sutton himself. None
of them had sounded at all likely and her preferred method of
dealing with the situation had been to flee. She was young and
nimble. Surely she could outrun a footman? If she
was
captured and her
identity discovered – or, at the very least, her gender – she was
hoping to pass the whole thing off as a wager. History had taught
Harry that there weren’t many situations that could not be resolved
satisfactorily by a swift, persuasive tongue and a confident
manner.

She had been planning on
trying to get in around the back of the building but the front door
looked enticing, in that it was temptingly close. The worst that
could happen was that it was locked but when she tried it she
discovered that it was
not
locked, for the knob turned easily beneath her
hand. With a quick look at the street behind her, satisfactorily
deserted, Harry cracked open the door and slipped
inside.

As expected, a candle burned on a hall table
but it wasn’t the only illumination. Further along the spacious
entry, from which the usual staircase led upwards, another light
glowed, brighter than the candle that burned by Harry’s elbow. It
appeared to be coming through a partially open doorway. She stared
at it speculatively. Was the room occupied or had somebody merely
left a lantern burning? One thing seemed certain; hovering
indecisively in the hallway wasn’t going to give her any
answers.

Creeping silently forward, Harry headed
towards the light. She intended to peek around the doorway and see
if the room was occupied. If it was, it would mean that she must
rethink her strategy but it might be nothing more than another
lantern left burning in anticipation of Sutton’s return. Cautiously
holding her breath, she peered around the doorjamb. What she saw
made her gasp in shocked surprise. The sound brought the
gentleman’s head around and their glances locked, his with
consternation, hers with horrified panic. Harry had a fleeting
thought that she had seen that open countenance before but now was
definitely not the time to dwell on memories. Whoever he was, the
fellow was standing over the body of Lord Sutton and she had seen
more than enough to warrant an alteration to the evening’s program.
Turning around, she prepared to put her backup plan into action and
flee!

Charlie had not expected to find Lord
Sutton’s front door ajar but had availed himself of the opportunity
to take the easy way in.

His plan was beautiful in its
simplicity.

Get into Lord Sutton’s house, find Monty’s
chits and depart.

It didn’t get any more basic than that. The
hardest part had been convincing Monty that his help was not
required.

‘But they are my chits,’ he
had pointed out, quite reasonably. ‘I should come along and help.
In fact, you were supposed to be coming along to help
me
.’

‘I’m well aware of that but I’ve been
thinking about it and it’s best I go alone. You know what they say
about cooks and cooking, old fellow.’

Monty had looked befuddled. ‘No. What?’

Charlie had paused, not quite remembering
what it was they said but knowing the gist of it. ‘Something about
there being a crowd in the kitchen, I daresay. We don’t want
that.’

‘Are we going to be in the kitchen?’

‘Of course not. D’you think the fellow has
hidden your chits in the flour bin?’

‘Then why did you mention cooks?’

‘A figure of speech. It doesn’t matter,’
Charlie had said impatiently. ‘All I meant was that it would be
better if there wasn’t a crowd of us blundering around the place.
I’m awkward enough but you, you’re an absolute disaster.’

Monty knew this to be true. He was the kind
of person who merely had to stand beside anything breakable for it
to fall inexplicably to the floor. ‘But it don’t feel right,
leaving you to do my dirty work.’

‘Believe me, better me than you. I don’t owe
the fellow a penny. If somebody happens to tumble to me, I can say
that I called on him for something or other whereas you would be
under suspicion, my lad, especially as Percy Tuckerton told me that
he heard you and Sutton have words the other night.’

‘I told you. He was sneering at me in that
repellent way of his and I told him that he should take his silly
grin elsewhere.’

‘Of course you did. Perfectly
understandable. But we don’t want you anywhere near his house. The
nasty blighter will probably call “welsher” as soon as he discovers
those chits are gone.’

Monty had thought about this for a moment.
The wheels turned slowly but they proceeded with a certain
ponderous reliability. Charlie was reasonably sure Mr. Truelove
would see the sense of what he was saying eventually.

‘I suppose that’s true,’ he had agreed
finally. ‘I’ll wait at your place.’

‘Or I could just come round and see you
afterwards,’ Charlie had pointed out, ‘seeing as how you only live
five minutes away from Hill Street. Make sure that you invite a few
fellows over for some cards. Just so all and sundry know where you
are when I’m poking around the snake’s house.’

‘Good point. So you’ll come by
afterwards?’

Charlie had assured him that he would do
exactly that, hopefully with the IOU’s that Sutton had managed to
acquire. He had set off at a little before eleven. Discovering the
door open had been a stroke of luck and Charlie had taken the
opportunity to step inside with alacrity. There had been a candle
burning in the hallway and another light further along the
corridor. Charlie had headed towards it, for no better reason than
it had been an invitation to explore. The house was silent, not a
footstep to disturb his equanimity. If some butler or footman did
tumble to him, why he’d just bluff his way through. Tell them that
he was expected and where the devil was Sutton, that kind of thing.
They’d probably apologize for their master’s absence and he could
slope off without any damage being done.

So it was that as he walked through the door
into what looked like a library, he was fully expecting to find it
unoccupied. Which wasn’t entirely true for it appeared that Lord
Sutton was in residence, after all.

Three steps into the room, Charlie stopped
and tried to take in what his eyes were telling him. Before him,
sprawled awkwardly on the rug lay Arthur Sutton. He was lying on
his back, eyes open to stare sightlessly at the ceiling. One arm
was bent beneath him, as if he had fallen on it.

That must
hurt
, Charlie thought automatically,
then
, actually I doubt he feels a
thing…

For it was clear that his lordship was
beyond feeling. The staring eyes and slack mouth were entirely
explicable when one took in the pool of blood beneath the fellow’s
head. It had soaked into the Aubusson rug, creating a dark, ugly
patch on the woven pattern of flowers. Not far distant was a heavy
candlestick that appeared to be sticky with a substance he
preferred not to dwell on at the moment but which had clearly been
used to smash his lordship’s noggin. A rather macabre touch had
been added by the single red rose that lay beside the man’s
head.

Charlie opened, then closed, his mouth. This
was an unexpected turn up for the books and he wasn’t at all sure
how to approach the matter. Clearly, Lord Sutton had been making
friends everywhere, so much so that some person had caved the
beggar’s head in. He glanced around him quickly but the room was
devoid of anything but the body on the floor.

An audible gasp behind him brought his heart
into his mouth and Charlie spun around quickly. A face, looking at
him through the doorway. A servant! Clearly, the sight of Charlie
contemplating the corpse of Arthur Sutton had scared the stuffing
out of them but Charlie had no desire to have some plodding member
of the Watch brought in, not when he was just an innocent
bystander. An innocent bystander who was intending to rob the
place…

He scooted forward in pursuit. ‘Hold on
there!’

The lad, in his haste to reach the front
door, had tripped on the edge of the hall runner and collided with
a walnut bureau. Charlie snagged his collar before he could regain
his equilibrium and yanked him back into the room. ‘Just you wait
one minute if you please.’

‘Let me go!’ a voice, breathless and edged
with alarm replied.

‘Not likely. I don’t want all the world in
here.’ Charlie shut the door and leaned against it before freeing
his captive. The boy lurched a little on his feet, staggered
forward and then sideways, cringing away from the body on the
floor.

‘You
killed
him.’

‘Now that is where you’re wrong,’ Charlie
corrected the new arrival. ‘Somebody killed him, I will admit. It
just didn’t happen to be me.’

‘But you were in here. Standing over the
body!’

‘Coincidence. I just happened across the
fellow. Arrived not three minutes ago myself.’

The boy paused. ‘You found him here?’

‘And then you found
me
here,’ Charlie agreed,
slightly relieved that his explanation didn’t require further
elaboration.

‘But who killed him?’

Who killed him? Charlie shrugged. ‘I have no
idea.’ More to the point, he didn’t care. At least, not
particularly. Sutton was neither a friend nor a relative and was a
bounder to boot and, as such, his loss was of no great
significance. It was awkward, of course that he happened to be in
the house with a murdered man but as he wasn’t the murderer, he was
inclined to think the best thing was simply to go about his
business.

‘Well if
you
didn’t kill him… are
you sure you didn’t kill him?’