Serpent in the Garden (21 page)

“May I see the communications?” Her tone was a shade more conciliatory. Clearly, Joshua thought, the way to manage her was not to attempt to pacify her but to vie with her instead.

“I will gladly show you the letters. But may I suggest we first take some breakfast? Not to join the family might arouse suspicions, which, I am sure you would agree, could be most detrimental to our enquiries. Afterward, we will find somewhere secluded, where we will not be interrupted, to peruse the letters and discuss them at our leisure.”

Lizzie nodded her acquiescence without a trace of ill temper, and thus they adjourned to the breakfast room. Joshua hungrily consumed two poached eggs, a bloater, and a cup of chocolate. Lizzie toyed with a small roll as she regarded Joshua in wary silence.

Soon after they had sat down, Francis and Caroline made their appearances. They were surprised and glad to see Lizzie, for they hadn’t expected her before the ball. To what did they owe this unexpected pleasure?

Lizzie explained herself without a flicker of self-consciousness. She had come on impulse to ask a great favor of Herbert and Sabine and Mr. Pope. She wanted to make a gift to the happy couple to mark their engagement and she thought it would be a fine thing indeed if she could draw a pineapple for them. She wished, therefore, to beg a lesson or two in drawing. This was a hobby of which she had always been excessively fond, but hopelessly inept, unlike her dear friend Caroline. Did they think Herbert or Sabine would have any objection? Would Joshua agree?

Caroline’s face registered her astonishment. “My dear friend, of course I am delighted at this ambition. Though I confess you surprise me—you have always said you thought drawing the most tedious of pursuits.”

Francis intervened. “Caroline, don’t be harsh with poor Lizzie. We are all entitled to a change of heart on occasion. Our father is currently away from Astley. Thus, as far as I know, Mr. Pope is free to instruct Lizzie if he has no objection.”

Joshua hastily assured them he would be honored to tutor so keen a pupil. Botanical art had never been his forte, but he would do his utmost to teach her the rudiments.

In the middle of this discussion Violet arrived, smiling pleasantly at Francis, and bidding a surprised good morning to Lizzie. Joshua’s heart sank at the sight of her. He was sure now that at any moment Sabine would enter. What would her reaction to him be without Herbert to temper her wrath? Mercifully his agitation was short-lived. Violet directed a servant to take a breakfast tray to her mother in her room, where she was occupied with her correspondence.

During the half hour that followed, Violet made polite conversation with Francis and passed one or two desultory remarks to Caroline and Lizzie, but by and large seemed much preoccupied by her own thoughts and spoke not a word to Joshua.

Since Joshua was greatly relieved to know that he was safe from Sabine for the time being, this did not duly concern him. Besides, he had on his plate the last morsels of a particularly succulent bloater to consume. When all that remained was a pile of wispy bones, he rose from the table and addressed Violet. “I do not know if your mother desires to resume her sittings for the portrait. Perhaps, Miss Violet, you would be kind enough to tell her I am at her disposal whenever she wishes, although it might be best to wait for Mr. Bentnick’s return. In the meantime, as you no doubt have gathered, I shall occupy myself with instructing Miss Manning in the art of drawing.”

Violet nodded. Once again he had the feeling she was distracted, and he remembered that her maid had revealed that Violet had been fond of John Cobb. He made a mental note to persuade Lizzie to talk to Violet, and turned then to his would-be pupil. “Miss Manning, I believe the weather is fine this morning. Let us go out into the garden and practice botanical studies. I have yet to see the pineapple house. Shall we meet there in an hour?”

SOME TEN MINUTES before the agreed hour, Joshua, laden with sketchbooks and pencils, was just leaving his rooms when he heard Herbert’s sonorous voice on the half landing below. He peered over the balustrade at the very moment Herbert heard his step and looked up. Herbert’s upturned face crimsoned.

“Mr. Pope,” he said, “the very man I desired most urgently to see. Will you be so kind as to accompany me directly to the library?”

It wasn’t a question, more a summons. Joshua knew it and so did Herbert, for he turned on his heels without waiting for a reply.

Herbert stood with his back to the unlit fire. His head was framed by two large silver candelabra, which Joshua thought resembled the antlers of a gigantic stag. “As you see, Mr. Pope, I have returned from my search of your lodgings.”

“Indeed, sir. And I trust you found nothing to incriminate me in the disappearance of Mrs. Mercier’s necklace.”

“In that respect I found nothing untoward. What I did find, however, has raised new uncertainties in my mind. It concerns a letter I discovered at your rooms—a letter that I haven’t read, although its contents have been outlined to me. That letter has occasioned my acute astonishment, not to mention anger; it reveals that you have been meddling in matters that are no concern of yours.”

Herbert regarded Joshua as if he were waiting for a confession.

“Forgive me, Mr. Bentnick. I have absolutely no idea of the communication to which you refer.”

“Nor could you,” said Herbert. “You haven’t read it yet. Your landlady’s daughter, Miss Quick, asked me to pass it on to you. She thought it might concern a matter of urgency, since it was delivered by hand by a messenger from an attorney in Gray’s Inn. I took it upon myself to call upon the said firm, their address being clearly written on the letter. You will well imagine my consternation, sir, when I found that the letter relates to Mr. Cobb’s death at Astley. Mr. Crackman, the senior partner, was the author of the letter and he told me that the general topic of the letter concerns ‘the sudden and suspicious death of his partner’s associate Mr. John Cobb.’ He refused, however, to tell me more, trusting in my honor as a gentlemen not to pry. So what I desire, sir, is an explanation of your precise involvement in all of this.”

Here Herbert rummaged around in his jacket pocket. He removed a letter, which he then wafted accusingly under Joshua’s nose.

“Mr. Bentnick, sir,” said Joshua helplessly, “I pray that you give me leave to read this letter, in order that I may discover its contents and report them to you.”

“Very well,” said Herbert, “take it. And by the by, Crackman told me to inform you that his partner, a Mr. Bartholomew Hoare, has still not reappeared.”

Joshua broke the seal and unfolded the letter. He scanned the contents and summarized them for Herbert. “The letter says that Cobb was also an attorney-at-law; that he and Mr. Hoare were both engaged upon the same case: a matter of a disputed necklace—currently in the possession of a Mrs. Sabine Mercier—a rare jewel made in medieval times in the form of a serpent.” Joshua was surprised to learn that Cobb was an attorney acting for another. He had assumed him to be pursuing his claim on his own behalf.

“And who is the other claimant?” said Herbert quickly.

“He says only that since she is a woman much concerned for her privacy, he cannot reveal her identity without her permission. Under these exceptional circumstances he has written to obtain it.”

Herbert sighed with evident annoyance. “Well,” he said, stepping closer as if he wanted to snatch the letter from Joshua’s hand, “that is not the point. What I want is an explanation for your meddling. I employed you to paint my portrait. I have since asked you to recover a necklace that has gone missing thanks to your carelessness. Those are your duties; I see no reason for you to be calling on attorneys to discuss matters that are irrelevant.”

Joshua saw that a muscle in Herbert’s neck was twitching visibly. He would have liked to probe Herbert on the reason for his meeting at the Star and Garter, but prudence held him back. “I believe, sir, that the disappearance of the necklace is intertwined with the death in the pinery.”

“You did not know of the necklace’s disappearance when you called on Crackman. Come, Pope, take me for a fool and you will be sorry for it.”

Joshua responded smoothly. “I see I have no alternative but to speak candidly, even though I am breaking a confidence in doing so. It was Mrs. Mercier who asked me to look into Cobb’s death, sir. She requested that I question Granger, as she was anxious to know more about Cobb. Since I found myself in London, I thought I would please her if I pursued the matter a little further.”

Herbert snorted. “Indeed? You should have said so from the beginning, then.”

“She asked me to act in confidence.”

Herbert glared at Joshua, but he did not question Sabine’s order. Nor did he criticize her instruction.

Joshua took advantage of his silence to press his argument. “Of course, Mr. Bentnick, you have every reason to chastise me for meddling, as you see it. But that was not my intention. Furthermore, the missing necklace places a new complexion on this matter. Mr. Crackman clearly states both Hoare and Cobb were acting in a dispute with Mrs. Mercier over the necklace. It cannot be coincidence for the two events to take place so close in time. If you want the jewel found you must let me pursue the matter of the body in the pinery.”

“Why? What is one to do with the other? And why do you persist in calling it ‘the body’? It was John Cobb, as we very well know.”

“We believed it was John Cobb. Now I’m less sure.”

“But the letters in his pocket had the name of Cobb on them.”

Joshua looked inscrutable. “Perhaps they were letters intended for Cobb that had yet to be despatched. Or perhaps they were planted on him. You still do not recall what they said or who wrote them?”

“They were nothing significant.”

“Was one written by Hoare?”

Herbert shook his head as if plagued by a wasp but didn’t answer. “What makes you doubt the body was Cobb’s?”

“Last night on the road I was accosted by a man. He said his name was John Cobb,” said Joshua gravely.

Herbert’s eyes opened wide; he began to sway, a slow revolving movement, like a packet boat rolling in a hefty sea. He reached out an unsteady hand to the back of a chair to support himself.

“Sir, are you ill?” said Joshua—“I see you are taken sick. Allow me to help you to a chair. I shall go directly to call assistance.”

Herbert grunted an unintelligible response, lifted his feet onto a stool, and loosened his cravat. He was muttering, “I can’t credit it. The letters, the letters.”

Joshua summoned the first footman, Peters, and asked him loudly to attend to Herbert, then he took him to one side. “There is one further errand I would ask of you,” he said sotto voce.

“Yes sir,” replied Peters.

“Be so good as to despatch one of your hall boys to the undertakers in Richmond. I would know the size of the coffin made for the dead man that Mrs. Mercier found in the pinery.”

“The size of the coffin?” said Peters, as unruffled as if he had been asked for a hat or a cloak or a glass of brandy.

“Yes, Peters, the size. That is all.”

Then, quietly satisfied that he had discovered the means to circumnavigate Granger’s failure to examine the dead body, he stepped outdoors in search of Lizzie Manning.