A Beautiful Blue Death (27 page)

“On the contrary, sir, I think I may help you, if you will listen. In return, the solving of this case will be a benefit to me.”

“I’ll listen gladly,” said Lenox.

“Very well. I must ask you, then, if you are aware of the unique contents of Mr. Barnard’s house. I doubt that you are, but I may be willing to inform you.”

As he had once before, Lenox removed a gold coin from his pocket and held it in the flat of his palm.

“Exactly,” said Duff. “I suppose you’re not as hopeless as I originally thought.”

Lenox laughed. “High praise.”

“Well, then, I may as well tell you that in addition to the guards, who merely stood watch by the room, Jack Soames and I were guarding the money from the mint by observing the activity of the house.”

“Guarding it? Really?” Lenox was surprised.

“Yes. No doubt you asked yourself why we were staying there when we both had our own places of residence—and when both of us preferred our own homes to visiting.”

“Yes, I did.”

“A few of us in government agreed that the money needed more than armed police officers; it needed people on the spot. We kept it dark from most people, even in the party. The ball was a convenient excuse. Barnard protested at first, arguing that his own presence in the house, as an officer of the mint, surely constituted protection. The very fact that we had chosen his house, after the attacks on the mint, seemed proof to him. There was nowhere else, you see, from Buckingham Palace to Parliament itself, that seemed more anonymous yet safely public. But he came around eventually to the need for another presence in the house. I immediately volunteered, of course, as I am involved in the finances of the country—second to the Exchequer in that regard, I may say.”

Lenox was much taken aback but continued his questioning. “And Soames?”

“Not a leading political light but loyal and undeniably patriotic.
Also a military man and handy with a pistol. I may fairly say that it appears to me he was murdered in the line of duty.”

“Yes, it seems possible,” said Lenox, in a low voice. At any rate, this would explain Soames’s face in the skylight, looking over the crates of gold. “And it accounts for your praise in
The Times
obituary this morning, which struck me as odd.”

“Just so. At any rate, I may say that we have been successful, despite the unfortunate murder, and the money, which will be released to the public in a day or two, seems safe thus far.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. But I have come for another reason, as well. That man Exeter suspects me.”

“Does he now?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Surely you think me equal in wits to Inspector Exeter, Mr. Lenox?”

Lenox laughed mirthlessly. “Yes, yes, far lesser men than you are his superiors, I’m afraid.”

“At any rate, I thought it best to come to you.”

“If I’m to be honest,” said Lenox, “I’m not certain I don’t suspect you.”

The fury in Duff’s face was complete and instant, but he seemed to control himself. “What do you mean?”

“Why was a bottle of arsenic that belonged to you found in the murdered girl’s room?”

Duff seemed to relax his anger. “Is that all?” he said.

“That’s all,” Lenox answered.

“That was connected with my work for the committee from the Royal Academy on banned substances. It’s rather a large problem. Children accidentally eating cheese left out for the rats, that sort of thing. Particularly over in the Rookery, where supervision is less stringent. We need to revise the 1861 Arsenic Act.”

“That doesn’t explain the poison, Mr. Duff.”

“Surely you understand what I’m telling you?”

Lenox sighed inwardly. “Yes, I do. But why go and buy a bottle yourself?”

Duff waved a hand. “To see how easy it is to acquire. I’m actually rather pleased you were able to trace it. That means the chemist must have written my name in a ledger somewhere.…

“What did you do with the poison afterward?”

“I had about ten bottles from various apothecaries in my room and asked the housekeeper to dispose of them. The murderer must have gotten it from her.… I say, you do believe me? After all, I’ve come to you now to talk directly about this subject.”

Lenox looked thoughtfully at the fire with his fingertips together. “That is what puzzles me, Mr. Duff. If I may be frank, you have never seemed to like me.”

“I disregard your profession as sheer nonsense, particularly for a man of your birth, sir, if I am to speak plainly.”

“That is precisely what I mean. Why come to me now?”

“Surely you know, sir.”

“I confess myself baffled, Mr. Duff.”

“Your brother.”

“My brother?”

“Yes, Sir Edmund. A man whose opinion I respect as highly as any in the land.”

Lenox was flabbergasted. “My brother, you say?”

“Yes, indeed. Surely you realize how vital, in recent years, Sir Edmund has become to the Party? People underestimate him, I suppose, because he is so gentle—but no, a sharper mind does not reside in Parliament. I may fairly say that the Prime Minister and the Cabinet could not lead the Party without his advice.”

“But he holds no office!”

“He refuses them all.”

“And comes so infrequently!”

“Comes only when called. He is reluctant to take credit. But surely this is not as important as the business at hand, Mr. Lenox?”

Lenox shook his head. “No, no, of course not.”

“What ought I to do about Exeter?”

Lenox, though still distracted, managed to say, “Nothing, nothing—leave him to me.”

“I shall then,” said Duff, and stood. Lenox stood too and walked him into the hallway. For the first time, the two men shook hands with something akin to warmth. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you,” said Duff.

“Perhaps,” said Lenox, smiling. “Good day, Mr. Duff.”

“To you as well,” said Duff, and left the house.

A slight draft came in as he left and hit Lenox, rather bracing him. The newfound mysteries of the case would emerge momentarily—but first, a moment to consider his brother!

As long as Lenox could remember, Edmund had been intelligent, but that quality in him was always dominated by his unfailing kindness and cheerfulness. Lenox was himself the same way, to some extent. But gentle Edmund, with gravy on his tie? His life had always been devoted above all to the hills of Sussex and to his hearth.

Still, men must serve their country, their father had always taught them, and as strongly as Lenox remembered the lesson, Edmund must as well.

He returned to the armchair and lit his pipe. Duff… that aspect of the case deserved a good think. But Lenox couldn’t stop considering his brother.

To think that Edmund said so little! And to have sent him out, that very morning, in a beggar’s costume—one of the leading political figures of the day, according to Duff! Lenox would most certainly press his brother the next time they were together.

I
t was nearly lunchtime; Lenox decided to eat in. He asked Graham for something simple, and when he went into the dining room, half an hour later, he found beef in sauce with peas and potatoes, as well as a half bottle of wine. He refused the wine and drank water instead, because he wanted to keep his mind clear.

After he had eaten—it was an excellent meal—he had a thought and went back to his desk in the library. There was a cigar box there where he had assembled the small items that constituted the clues to the case, and he opened it and pulled a scrap of paper out. It was the one he had found in Duff’s room, which read
£? JS?.
It occurred to him that it must have been shorthand for Jack Soames and referred to the money.

Was it all a blind? Duff’s unexpectedly confiding in him was out of the ordinary—and anything out of the ordinary mattered in a case like this. It was worth thinking about, particularly after his elaborate and too-convenient account of the arsenic. Had there been a flash of fear across his face, mixed with the obvious anger, when Lenox brought the little bottle up? Duff was too smart by half.…

Another knock came on the front door, but this one he expected.

“Mr. Skaggs,” said Graham, admitting him without asking leave from Lenox.

Skaggs was dressed very tidily, in a black coat and thick gray trousers, which looked awfully warm to Lenox, who was still seeking a solution to his perpetual misery in cold weather.

“Mr. Lenox,” the man said, and tipped his cap.

“How are you, my dear man? And how is your youngest daughter?”

Skaggs grinned. “Fairly flourishin’, sir, fairly flourishin’.”

“I should think so, with such an excellent mother.”

Now he blushed a bit. “Well, yes, never a finer woman—”

“Now, how has the work gone, Mr. Skaggs?”

“Well, as far as it goes, I suppose, sir.”

“I don’t quite get you, I must say.”

“Well, Mr. Lenox, if I’ve assumed correctly that you’re investigating Miss Prudence Smith and Mr. Jack Soames—I gathered as much, because Mr. Roderick Potts, the man you asked me to investigate, was residing in the mansion where they died—then I may or may not be useful to you. However, I think I can definitively strike him from the list of suspects, though I’ll leave you to judge that.”

“Good heavens! This is certainly more than I had hoped for, Mr. Skaggs.”

Again the investigator tipped his cap. “Thank you, sir.”

“How can you say so?”

“Well, sir, you gave me the assignment of tracking Mr. Potts and learning what I could. Here are the facts, in a nutshell, then: very rich, indifferent to social status, in fact altogether wary of it, exceedingly kind even to his most distant acquaintances and relations, a widower, one daughter, the apple of his eye, donates great sums to charity, but tends his business still.”

“All in all, a perfect suspect.”

Skaggs grinned. “Aye. At any rate, I figured I ought to learn more. Why was he in the house, specifically?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So I sought employ in Mr. Barnard’s house myself.”

“Skaggs! You didn’t!”

“Indeed, the ball being an excellent excuse, I was hired as an extra footman, and I worked up to and during the ball. One of a fleet of temporary servants. Chap in the hiring agency owed me a favor.”

“Excellent!”

“And that is why I can say with definite assurance that he did not kill Mr. Soames. I followed Mr. Potts throughout the party without my eyes leaving him once.”

“Skaggs, shake my hand. You have a very bright future, you know.” The two men shook hands.

“Thank you, sir,” said Skaggs.

“Now why
was
Potts staying at Barnard’s house?”

“The way I saw it, he might still have had a hand in things, so—I’m not ashamed to say—I eavesdropped. And it cost me my job, too, sir!” Both men laughed at this. “The housekeeper caught me; I wasn’t sorry to see the back of her by the end of it. But I learned the truth. It appears that Mr. Potts plans to give away half his fortune. He’s taking such action because his daughter is engaged, and he will give it away in her name. She’s to wed a farmer in the north—a nice fellow, who reminds Mr. Potts of himself. Of what you might call the working-class background. Disregarding the money.”

“What! Not a duke?”

“Certainly not. When speaking to Mr. Barnard, Mr. Potts most vehemently decried the earls and such who had come courting. Said he was above all that. The farmer is educated, like his daughter, and a gentleman, but by no means an earl, from what I overheard. He said his money had grown heavy on his
hands, and he saw such poverty around him that he felt it right to give it away. He seemed to indicate that he might give away a fair percentage of the remainder in the rest of his life. He was speaking to Mr. Barnard as one of the first men of finance in the land.”

“Human beings are remarkable, Mr. Skaggs.”

“That they are. At any rate, Potts was not at all pleased with Barnard’s advice—namely, to keep it. This was during the ball. And Mr. Potts left in quite a huff, saying he would seek counsel elsewhere.”

“Fascinating.”

“As I said, sir, it is possible that all this is a blind, but he had no reason to know that he was being overheard, and all in all he seems the most honorable man I’ve ever known. Oh, a glint of hardness in him. It’s hard to make money without that. But good at bottom, you see, Mr. Lenox.”

“I do indeed, Mr. Skaggs. I do indeed.”

Lenox was thinking to himself of how he had rifled this kind man’s room and felt sick at the memory. But it passed; he scratched Mr. Potts from his list as well, thought he might send a present to the engaged couple, and felt mildly better.

The two men spoke for another moment, and then Lenox thanked him, paid him the balance of his bill, and bade him goodbye. Then—just as Skaggs walked through the door—Lenox noticed his boots—the finest boots he thought he had ever seen.

“Mr. Skaggs, if I may—where do you find boots such as those?”

Skaggs turned around, briefly puzzled, but then smiled and said, “Ah, yes. Cork-soled, sir, and lined with thick flannel, and extra rubber for dryness. Very snug, even in the snow.” He tipped his cap. “Linehan’s, on Crown Street, sir, and not a bad bargain either.”

To Lenox this sounded very near to heaven. He said goodbye with a smile, and the moment the door was closed he donned his old inadequate boots and his greatcoat and jumped into his carriage, telling the driver, “Linehan’s, Crown Street,” before he forgot.

H
is business done, Lenox set out for McConnell’s house.

“What can you tell me?” he said when he arrived, skip-straight past hello.

“Not much.”

“I see.”

“Come upstairs?”

“Yes, of course.”

They walked to McConnell’s private room and then went down to the end of it, where the doctor kept his four or five large tables, his equipment, and his cabinets full of bottles.

“Mr. Potts,” McConnell said, “is not your man—at least not on the strength of the sample you gave me from the bottle in his valise.”

“No?”

“What he had was a bottle of very nasty poison.”