The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

Thursday 22nd February, 1810

Despite his wife’s instruction that he was to remain objective when dealing with the fascinating Spanish
señora
, Magistrate Read allowed himself a moment or two to appreciate Doña Magdalena’s elegance and beauty when she glided into his office. He could understand why Stephen Lavender was so besotted with the damned woman. She was stunningly attractive, with a curvaceous figure, a flawless golden complexion and wide, luminous eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Glossy black ringlets and curls framed her pretty face and intelligence shone in her eyes. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties but he knew that she had an eight-year-old son away at boarding school so he suspected she was probably a little older, possibly in her late twenties – a year or two younger than Lavender. He cleared his throat, bade her take a seat and tried to force his mind back onto the business that lay ahead.

‘Thank you for the teaching position, Magistrate Read. ’ Magdalena smiled at him like an old friend, and revealed two perfect rows of small, pearly teeth. ‘And I have to confess that I’m intrigued by the mention in your note of the confidential matter we needed to discuss.’

Her English was excellent, Read noted. Her voice was deep and her accent slight. He was due in court in twenty minutes and was wearing his wig and sombre black gown. Most people found his official garb intimidating but not Doña Magdalena, it seemed. The woman was obviously made of strong stuff.
Let’s see if you’re still smiling in ten minutes, madam
, Read thought.

‘Does Detective Lavender know you’re here in my office at this moment?’

Her smile dropped from her lips and was replaced by a slight look of confusion. ‘No. You said in your note that this was a confidential matter; I felt it wise to tell no one of our appointment. As you can see, I have even travelled without my maid.’

Good, she has passed the first test, at least.

‘I will come straight to the point, Doña Magdalena,’ he said. ‘I may have another proposition to put to you, which may be more lucrative than Spanish lessons.’ Her dark eyebrows arched upwards. ‘However, first, we need to discuss your politics.’

She gave a short, surprised laugh. ‘My politics?’

‘Yes, madam, I’m curious about where your sympathies lie. Are you an Absolutionist, a Liberal, a Godoyista or a Fernadista? Speak plainly.’

‘I tended to leave matters of state to my late husband,’ she said warily.

‘Yes, I’m well aware that Señor Garcia de Aviles had political ambition. But surely you had an opinion of your own, an intelligent woman like yourself? I understand that you had an uncle in one of the Cortes Generales. Politics is in the lifeblood of your family. You can’t be immune to it.’

Magdalena’s face registered surprise and her eyes flitted to the innocuous dun-coloured folder that lay on Read’s desk beneath his folded hands. ‘I see that you’re well informed about my background, Magistrate Read,’ she said slowly. The thought didn’t seem to alarm her. ‘Yes, Antonio was ambitious. My family’s political connections were part of the attraction when his father approached my father about our marriage.’

‘Your marriage was arranged?’

‘Of course.’

Her calmness with the convention of an arranged marriage was unnerving. It sounded so cold, unemotional and alien to him. However, when he allowed his memory to return to the hazy days of his own courtship and marriage to Charity he was vaguely aware that he had little to do with it. He remembered mentioning to his mother that Miss Charity Gilroy had a pretty smile and nice eyes and the next moment he was betrothed. Charity and his mother had ‘arranged’ everything between them – even their introduction in that ballroom. He suspected that he wasn’t the first man to be waltzed into a marriage he didn’t see coming. But he took comfort that such a strong affection had grown up between him and Charity over the years; he knew they had an amicable and supportive relationship.

‘Were you happily married?’ This had nothing to do with her politics, of course but he was curious.

She waved an elegant gloved hand in the air, dismissively. ‘We were as content as any other married couple in the world, Magistrate. Antonio was a kind husband, if a little distant. We spent the first few years of our marriage in Madrid. After our son, Sebastián, was born, I lived quietly with Antonio’s parents on their estate near Oviedo. My own father was dying and I needed to be close to him at that time. Antonio was often away in Madrid. After Sebastián was sent away to school, I found it too quiet and dull in the country. I wasn’t happy; I missed the excitement of the city and I missed my son.

‘I went briefly to Madrid but the capital was now a dangerous place. Bonaparte imprisoned our foolish king and put his own brother on the Spanish throne; riots and mutinies broke out all over the country – especially in Madrid. I had only just left the city when Murat’s cavalry trampled thousands of innocent men, women and children in the streets and shot to death thousands of others. It was carnage.’

‘How did you feel about these events?’

‘How did I feel?’ she snapped. Her face flushed with anger. ‘How does any right-minded person feel about such acts of atrocity?’ she demanded. ‘But I had a foreboding that things would go wrong from the moment our inept government and foolish king allowed Bonaparte and his French dogs to march across our land to invade Portugal. Even I, a mere woman, could see that this would be a disaster. It was only a matter of time before the despotic tyrant and his dogs turned around to bite us.’

‘I see you have no love for the French, Doña Magdalena. But do you hold any particular affection for your deposed kings and Godoy?’

‘No, none. You asked me earlier which faction of Spanish politics I favoured,’ she said. ‘I think I can answer your question now: none of them. You would probably call me a realistic, Magistrate Read, rather than a devoted follower of one group or other. My main concern has always been the safety of my son. His future well-being and happiness were placed in danger by the foolish actions of our leaders. Of course, Antonio immediately allied himself with the rebels. He fought against the French at the battle of Bailén and glorified in our Spanish victory. He also allied himself with the Cádiz Cortes, the government in exile.’

‘My sources tell me that Don Antonio was quite vocal in his opposition to the French invasion of your country and earned a well-deserved reputation for gallantry and bravery in battle. That must be of some comfort to you.’

She looked anything but comforted. A tendril of hair had escaped from her pins. She angrily pushed it back up into her bonnet. ‘In an occupied country, reputations for gallantry in battle impress men and silly young girls,’ she said. ‘They do not protect the terrified wives and children left back at home at the mercy of the invaders.’

This was a perspective that he had never considered before and he suspected that it wasn’t one that entered the thoughts of most Englishmen or women. After all, they had not been invaded by the French. Well, not yet anyway. Every coastal town and port in Britain was on high alert.

‘What happened to your family?’ Read asked.

Magdalena sighed and lowered her head. For a moment Read thought she would refuse to tell him. It didn’t really matter. He already knew most of the details of her flight from Spain. British foreign operatives regularly updated the Home Department with information about influential Spaniards like Antonio Garcia de Aviles. He had already heard rumours that Magdalena had shot her way out of the country.

Then Magdalena raised her face and stared straight into Read’s eyes. ‘As the numbers of French soldiers in Spain increased, the rumours of French reprisals against the families of the revolutionaries became worse. Whole families disappeared overnight or were hanged, their homes and land razed to the ground. I became scared for Sebastián, Antonio’s parents and myself. I pleaded with Antonio to arrange us passage to the safety of England but he refused. We weren’t to desert our home, he said. We were quite safe on our remote estate. But I wasn’t convinced.’ Her voice rose as she relayed her frustration.

‘Eventually, I decided to act. I arranged the passage to England for Sebastián and myself. I pleaded with Antonio’s parents to come with us, but they refused. They never questioned the judgement of their brilliant son; they never thought for one moment that his conspicuous, outspoken opposition to Joseph Bonaparte might endanger his family.

‘On the morning Sebastián and I were due to leave, Antonio’s parents were away visiting his sister. We had packed the carriage and were about to depart when four French soldiers rode up the drive.’

‘What happened?’

‘We opened fire on them; they were killed. I had already armed my servants and we had the element of surprise. The French had not expected resistance from a woman, a child and two old people.’

‘Did you take part in the shooting?’

‘Of course I did. I was fighting for my life,’ she said. Her large eyes were expressionless but he thought he saw a slight tremor in her lower lip. ‘I have a pistol and my father had trained me to be an excellent markswoman. We left immediately, raced like the wind to the coast and I arranged the passage to England for Sebastián, Teresa and myself.’

They regarded each other across the desk. She twisted her hands nervously in her lap, pulling at the material of her gown. He realised that she was trying to assess the impact of her confession and, despite his reservations, Read felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. He had convicted many heartless female murderers in his courtroom over the years and Magdalena Morales was not of their ilk. She had been forced to kill in order to save her own life and that of her child. He recognised the difference and sensed her remorse and fear. Her composure was a thin veneer beneath which she was scared and probably wracked with guilt.

‘Does Stephen Lavender know about this?’ he asked.

‘I think he suspects the truth – and he knows that I can shoot to kill.’

He frowned. This was a new development. ‘Is this something to do with the highwaymen who attacked your coach at Barnby Moor?’ He heard the alarm in his own voice.

‘Yes, Stephen’s pistol had jammed and one of the highwaymen was about to discharge his shot into Stephen’s face. I shot the villain through the temple.’

‘Good grief, I had no idea.’ Agitated, Read’s hands picked up and smoothed back the feathers on his quill while his mind churned over with this latest information. No wonder Lavender was infatuated with the woman if he owed her his life.

‘You think that I’m unnatural? That I’m unwomanly?’ Her beautiful eyes bored into his across the table. ‘You must understand, Magistrate Read, that I will do anything to protect my son. Even commit a cardinal sin like murder.’

He shuffled uneasily in his chair. The longcase clock in the corner of the room gently chimed the quarter hour and reminded him of the case he was due to judge downstairs in the court. He brought the conversation back to its intended purpose. One thing was for sure: this woman was more than suitable for the job he had in mind.

‘Well, I must thank you, Doña Magdalena, for the service you have already given to the British Crown when you saved the life of Detective Lavender. His loss to Bow Street Magistrates’ Court would have been a great blow – at both a personal and a professional level.’

Magdalena nodded, her eyes narrow. Flattery and charm would be wasted on her. He needed to keep the conversation businesslike.

‘As I mentioned earlier I have a proposition to put to you that might prove lucrative in addition to your teaching. Your son is at an expensive boarding school, I understand?’

She nodded again. ‘It was the only one that would overlook his religion and accept him.’

His mention of her son had been well timed; he had her undivided attention and she looked less hostile now.

‘Do you regularly mix with the other Spanish émigrés who have fled to England? I understand that you Catholics are a closed group.’

‘Sometimes. Sometimes I meet other Spaniards or are invited into their homes. Unfortunately, some of them are wary of me because of the rumours of how I escaped to England.’

‘Yes, I can understand that,’ Read said with feeling. ‘However, you may still be able to help us. The British government is concerned about the proliferation of French spies in London – we worry that some of the Spanish émigrés may be feeding information back to the French.’

Magdalena gasped in surprise. ‘But we fight side by side against Joseph Bonaparte on the battlefields!’

‘Not all of your fellow countrymen and women appreciate the support given by Sir Arthur Wellesley and his army,’ Read said. ‘And not all of them hate the French with the same passion as you do, Doña Magdalena. There are many who are sick and tired of a war that causes economic devastation to Spain and they would like peace at any cost, even if it means submitting to the yolk of the Bonapartes. The British and Spanish alliance against the French can be uneasy at times and it is important that we know whom we can trust.’ He pulled out a piece of paper from the file on his desk and laid it face down. Read saw curiosity flit across Magdalena’s face.

‘This is a list of Spaniards who live in London and who have come to the attention of our Home Department for one reason or another.’

She gave him a slow smile. ‘If you want me to assassinate them, Magistrate Read, then I’m sorry to disappoint you. I only shoot in self-defence.’

He glanced up sharply and saw the self-mocking smile on her lips. ‘Such a thought never entered my mind, Doña Magdalena,’ he said. ‘No, we would simply like you to report back to us about them. We would like to hear about any opinions they express, the company they keep and any journeys they plan to make.’

‘You want me to spy on them?’

‘In short, yes. We would like to hear about everything they do and say, even what they eat for breakfast.’

She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘If you think that this would help the war in Spain come to a speedier conclusion, then I will assist you. Please show me the list.’