Wiles of a Stranger Page 15

  "Is Mr. Kirby in, please?” I asked, my voice high from nerves too long stretched taut.

  "He is, miss. Whom shall I say is calling?” she asked.

  "Miss—Miss van Deusen,” I told her, selecting the name he would recognize.

  "Won't you come in?” she offered, holding the door wide. I stepped into a simple country cottage. A fire lit the grate, throwing orange and yellow beams on the slate hearth, and the black cat stretched out at her ease there. The housekeeper offered me a seat, and returned a minute later with a glass of wine and three biscuits on a plate. Displeased with the interruptions, the cat left.

  "Mr. Kirby is dressing, Miss van Deusen. He asked me to make you comfortable."

  "Is he going out?” I asked, fearing he would slough me off without hearing my story.

  "On the contrary, he has just come in. He will be down presently. There are papers and magazines on the table there, to pass the time."

  With another friendly smile, she turned and left. I sipped the wine, and a moment later picked up the top newspaper, not that I was in any mood to read it. For a full minute, I did not even notice the language was not English. I had no idea what it was. While I was still frowning over the strange symbols, there was a heavy step beyond the archway. I looked eagerly to have my first view of the mysterious Mr. Kirby.

  "Good evening, Miss van Deusen. It took you the deuce of a long time to get here,” Major Morrison said, rather crossly.

  "You!” I gasped. If I had arisen, I would surely have fallen over from shock and consternation. As I was already seated, I arose.

  "As you see.” He smiled an insouciant smile, bowed gracefully, and sauntered into the room.

  "It was a trick! All a wicked lie!” I exclaimed, looking toward the door, but his wide shoulders blocked the exit very effectively.

  "So it was, but what is a little deception between friends? I see Mrs. Hunter has given you some wine. Have you had dinner? I hope not. I was about to sit down to mine, and would appreciate your company."

  "I begin to understand your strategy now. You wanted me to come here so I wouldn't tell the police who stole the Jaipur. That's it. Don't bother to deny it."

  "Why, the truth of the matter is, I didn't particularly want you to come at all. But as you are here, about dinner..."

  "I wouldn't sit at your table if I were dying of starvation. You—you liar!"

  "Harsh words, and from such a gentle little lamb, too. Well, as you have been kind enough to sit at my fireside, I shall have Mrs. Hunter set me up a table here beside you.” He called his housekeeper and asked her to put a card table at the other fireside chair. And still he did not budge from the door, but looked pointedly from me to it.

  "Don't even think of it, Anna. You are not going anywhere. You look perfectly hagged. Do sit down and drink up your wine, like a good girl."

  Fearful lest it was drugged or poisoned, I flung the contents of my glass into the fire. “Thank you for not tossing it into my face. I have just made a fresh toilette."

  On that bold speech, he left the doorway, to sit on the arm of my chair, grabbing my wrists, to prevent my escape.

  "What have you done with Mr. Kirby?” I demanded. My breaths came fast and shallow, as I felt those strong fingers dig into my flesh.

  "Mr. Kirby has served his purpose. He became—expendable,” he said, in a polite tone.

  "You killed him!"

  "In a word, yes."

  I didn't doubt it for a minute, and as I considered his words, I knew the only purpose Kirby had served was to get my father to Glanbury Park, and myself to this cottage. “I see,” I said.

  "That is doubtful. Let me explain. Having you come here was preferable to having you break into jail to free your father. The authorities are so regimented in their thinking. They would be bound to take it amiss. There was the dreadful possibility too that you might announce to the press or even the law that I had stolen the Jaipur. Now don't deny it occurred to you! I know you well enough, Anna, to read you like an open book."

  "So you lured me here."

  "My real motive was to lure you—such a melodramatic turn of phrase you novel-reading ladies develop—into my lair and have my way with you. Isn't that what you are thinking?"

  I tried to wrench my wrists from his grasp, for at the end of his speech, he did actually incline his head towards mine, groping for my lips.

  "I knew I should have shaved it off,” he said, shaking his head. “I very nearly did, but am not quite ready to execute Major Morrison yet."

  "What do you ... Are you saying..."

  "That Mr. Kirby is one of my own alter egos? He is, or was. I don't think it will be necessary to resuscitate him. I like Major Morrison better, and old Kirby has served his purpose."

  "He got my father to come down here and be accused of robbery, you mean?"

  "That's one way of putting it. He also got the best gem expert in the kingdom to come and confirm there was some fishy business in connection with Lucien's collection. His own arrest was not foreseen, I promise you. That was not integral to my dastardly plot in the least. In fact, it added an unnecessary and very troublesome character to the story. You. But I have enjoyed having you around. You were useful, and entertaining—up to a point,” he added judiciously, quirking his head to one side to examine me.

  When Mrs. Hunter came to lay the table, she was accompanied by a young woman. “Perhaps you would be interested to meet Miss Little, Anna,” Morrison asked, smiling lazily from one of us to the other. “Your predecessor at Glanbury Park."

  Miss Little bobbed a curtsey and smiled, while I continued trying to sort out his bits of information. He had been working with Miss Little then.

  "I read the feverish activity going forth behind your wrinkled brow,” he informed me, with a mocking glance. He waited until Miss Little and Mrs. Hunter had moved the side table to his chair and placed a linen cloth on it and left, presumably for the food tray.

  "You are wondering, no doubt, how I have made use of little Miss Little for my foul ends. Let me clarify the matter. An expensive matter it was too, having to hire this cottage for her, but it has served for luring you as well, so I don't begrudge the expense in the least. I do just begin to wonder whether I ought not to have leased a larger place. My harem grows by leaps and bounds."

  "Did you get her placed at the Park?"

  "No, Algernon did, to keep an eye on things for him. I got her to leave.” I shot a quick, suspicious look at this telling speech. “With Algernon's help. He sent her a note introducing me and requesting her to do as I asked. I asked her to take French leave for a while. To make room for you,” he added swiftly.

  "When you came pelting to the Shipwalk, it was clear you meant to hang around the neighborhood, making a nuisance for me, and likely getting yourself thrown into the jail with your father. A lady can come to a shocking bad end with a reputation like that trailing her. So I—convinced Miss Little to leave, and bribed the servant at the Shipwalk to tell you of the vacancy so you would be hired before someone else beat you to the position. I could have just brought you directly here, of course, but thought you might be helpful to me at the Park. Having it to hold over your head that I knew who you were put you within my power more effectively than a Miss Little, on whom I had no real claims. You follow me? If your silence on any little matter should be necessary, I could always threaten to expose you. I rather feared you were going to create a fuss yesterday, when all my experts and I were busy convincing Beaudel the Jaipur was a fake. I am quite sure it was only your father's presence that deterred you.

  "Are you saying it wasn't a fake?"

  "Don't tell me Diamond Dutch's daughter can't see a diamond by daylight. Of course it wasn't a fake. It was magnificent."

  "I don't believe you. My father would never lie about a thing like that."

  "You actually do think I stole it then?” he asked, offended.

  "Why are you trying so hard to confuse things, if you're not a thief?"

 
"Why do I just not state my true business, you mean, instead of assuming these various characters?"

  "Exactly. And who are you anyway?"

  "Complex problems seldom have simple solutions, Miss van Deusen. It is a famous quotation from someone or other, but I can't recall whom. Could you help me—with the identification, I mean?"

  "No, and not with anything else either."

  "Don't make me resort to force. I abhor it, especially with ladies."

  "What did you plan to do if I hadn't come here?” I asked.

  "You didn't mean to stand me up tonight? If I couldn't convince you to behave, I was going to abduct you from our trysting spot. I counted on your being discreet till you had an opportunity to talk to me, and if you were indiscreet, I hoped you would come here, as you did. I may be devious, but you must admit I am fairly thorough. Ah, dinner has arrived,” he said, as Mrs. Hunter entered. “Are you sure you won't have something? The chicken looks delicious, Mrs. Hunter."

  She bustled about, setting plates on the table, while I considered my means of escape. I thought it best to wait until the woman left, and he was busy with his meal.

  When she left, and before he sat down, he said, “I took the precaution of having your gig and horse taken to the stable, where my groom is keeping an eye on them. Also on the back door, while I guard the front. You won't take a leap through one of the windows, will you, dear heart?"

  On this speech, he sat down and took up his knife and fork. The loss of my gig meant darting through those black bushes alone, but on the other hand, night would help to hide me.

  "Quite sure you won't have anything?” he asked a moment later.

  "Perhaps just a slice of bread and butter,” I answered, seeing he would have to reach to the far side of his table for them. The few seconds might allow me to get out the front door, into the bushes.

  "Ah good, you are coming down off your high ropes,” he said, twisting in his chair, away from the door.

  I lunged from my chair, pelted past him into the hall and wrenched the door open. A sharp expletive was heard in the room, then the sound of feet following fast behind me. I was out in the cool night air, flying toward the dense growth of bushes. He was still a few yards behind me when I hit the end of clear space, and was confronted with an impenetrable wall of brush, as high as my head. I pushed at it with my fingers, but could not make a path wide enough to enter. If I did, I would be scratched to pieces, and my progress would be too slow to allow any concealment. I felt his hands fall on my shoulders, spin me around, with his breaths heavy from the exertion of giving chase.

  "You bloody fool! If you weren't a woman I'd...” He stopped, and glowered at me, still breathing hard, and looking very menacing, with the shadows of trees falling in bars across his upper face, the bottom of it swallowed up in blackness. I had the strongest expectation that, woman or not, I was about to receive a blow. Then he cocked back his head and laughed. His hand clamped me by one arm, and dragged me back into the house.

  "Sit! And don't get up again till I've finished dinner,” he commanded, actually shoving me into the chair. “Next time I may lose patience with you."

  He resumed his seat, and kept a warier eye on me as he proceeded to make a good dinner, with many compliments to his absent cook, and more than one suggestion that I try a wing at least.

  It was a leisurely meal, with a second helping of apple tart and coffee afterwards. This necessitated a few trips back and forth by Mrs. Hunter. On the last one, she carried a cup and poured coffee for me. As it came from the same pot as the Major's, I accepted it. My lack of dinner was beginning to be felt.

  "What are your plans for me?” I asked, as though it were a matter of only mild interest.

  "Near future, or ultimately?” he enquired in the same spirit.

  "Both."

  "You will remain here for the time being."

  "What explanation will you give at the Park?"

  "I? Surely it is not my place to make excuses for a missing governess. It is not a new experience for the Beaudels. They will cope."

  "And my ultimate fate?"

  "We all die sooner or later. That is the ultimate fate awaiting every man-jack of us."

  "You are planning to murder me?"

  "Only to kill you with kindness, my dear Anna. There would be no point in killing such a harmless enemy."

  "What will you be doing with yourself, if I may enquire?"

  "Feel free to make any enquiry you wish. I, of course, shall retain the prerogative to answer or not, as I wish. I shall humor you this time. I shall be busy winding up this nasty affair."

  "Escaping with the Jaipur, you mean?"

  "Incredible. Such faulty reasoning in a woman who passes for sane. Did I not have an opportunity to steal it when we were in the attic together? There was nothing but four small screws between me and it, as you know well. As to your being a witness, your high opinion of my morals surely does not preclude murdering you? It comes to seem a likely fate for you, sooner or later. No, I don't plan to steal it. I am going to protect it. You recall we discussed the possibility of Stella's having herself kidnapped, so that Beaudel would pay up the proceeds from the sale in ransom? I needed an excuse not to hand the blunt over to Beaudel, so claimed it was a fake. I also thought it a good idea to stir up the pot a little, set the crooks at each other's throats, as it were, and see what developed."

  "What you have developed is a standstill."

  "A standstill is come to, I believe, not developed, but you have fingered the flaw in the plan. We want not only to prevent Stella's grand larceny, but to reveal her for the hussy she is. She'll make a go for it sooner or later, and we want to be in on the affair. So we must give the pot another stir. Or even add a new ingredient."

  "Another character?” I asked, entertaining the possibility he was a lesser evil than I had thought. At least his excuses had a sort of reason to them.

  "No, another offer to purchase, but not the Jaipur. I believe Major Morrison will make an offer for the balance of the collection, and be ready to thwart Stella's efforts to get her hands on the loot."

  "How will you do that?"

  "Beaudel thinks she stole the diamond and substituted a fake, or so I hope."

  "Yes, he does think it."

  "He must learn her past history. I expect he has read the report of the attempted kidnapping of Kersey's son already, sent anonymously, of course. The name Wiggins figures prominently in it, along with the mention of a female accomplice. He's dumb, but not entirely stupid, and not entirely unscrupulous either. He was flattened to hear the diamond was a fake, but he still loves that baggage of a woman enough to protect her. He didn't call in the law, as he ought to have done. If he even half believed it was all Wiggins's doings, he might be convinced to save her life by paying the ransom, but if we can prove to him she is kidnapping herself, even he would not be fool enough to hand over the money."

  "You'll have her watched, surreptitiously, to let Beaudel see she is involved?"

  "Something like that. I haven't got all the details worked out. First I have to buy the remainder of the collection. I meant to explain all this to you tonight, at our tryst. I would have done so sooner, but events moved rather rapidly, after we both realized in the meadow that it was to be a kidnapping, and not theft pure and simple. I had to see Mills and coerce him to claim that a perfect jewel—wasn't it a beauty?—was a fake. There wasn't time, or later, opportunity, to tell you what I was about. You forgive me?"

  "We'll make a deal."

  "But of course I forgive you for thinking me a murderer, and for that ludicrous attempt to take French leave."

  "Too kind, but that's not the deal. Tell me who you are."

  "You can consider me a guardian angel, in disguise."

  "An excellent disguise. I never saw an angel in a black beard and moustache before."

  "How do they usually look, when you see them?"

  "Blond and blue eyed,” I answered gravely.

  "That ha
s been my experience also. I am going to the inn to speak to Mills. He will be with me tomorrow to look at the Indian collection. Can I trust you to remain here, till I come back?"

  "Certainly not. I'm going with you as far as the Park."

  "The Park is not exactly on my way to Chelmsford."

  "You will be happy for my help at the Park. It's not that far out of your way."

  "I would rest easier knowing you are here, safe. Anything could happen tomorrow. There might, in the worst case, be gunshots."

  "Then I should be there, to protect Lucien."

  "Hmm, and I will be there to protect you, so I think I'll let you return, but do be careful."

  When I was allowed to go back, I took it for proof Morrison was, if not an angel, at least on their side, but was still curious to know his identity. My gaze happened to fall on the newspaper with foreign writing. “What country is this from?” I asked, holding it up.

  "India,” he answered, then looked a trifle disconcerted. “We develop a dark tan in India, as you may have noticed."

  "I seem to remember Beaudel mentioning Sacheverel had a son there."

  He hunched his shoulders disparagingly. “A younger son. In fact, the baby of the family. I am not Papa's heir, alas. All that will go to my elder brother, but I have enough blunt to support an undemanding wife."

  "I am sure that's the only sort who would ever marry you. Shall we go?"

  A loudish laugh rang out. “Let's, before my patience breaks."

  I went back in his carriage with him, the groom returning my gig behind us. “How did you get my father to go along with that story that the diamond was glass?"

  "He knows the whole story. Finding the real thief will free him."

  "What if this strategy doesn't work, Major?"