A Proposal to Die For (16 page)

Alkmene winced. A bakery, or a little house with a rose garden – men seemed to know exactly what to promise a woman to get their way. She did not dare glance at Jake, but focused on Pemboldt, who was continuing his story.

The old man said, ‘Once in London he told his family the whole story and they were appalled. They didn't believe he had acted in earnest and tried to persuade him not to go back to the girl. In fact, Silas Norwhich himself took his brother to France and installed him on a business venture there, making sure he had lots of money and parties to attend, and soon he was engaged to another and married. Of course that marriage was totally invalid, as long as his first marriage wasn't annulled, and the woman in question alive.'

Pemboldt rested his hands on his desk. ‘Now this is where it gets…bitter. Silas Norwhich went to Cunningham to look for his sister-in-law and persuade her to agree to set his brother free. He believed she had just married him for money and that the right amount of it could persuade her easily enough to step back and leave him to his new life in France. But when she didn't want to, saying she loved her husband and wanted him to come back to her, Mr Norwhich threatened her with severe consequences if she did not set his brother free.'

Pemboldt stared ahead. ‘Mr Norwhich was a man of strong temper and very protective of his family name. He threatened her, intimidated her, and that same day she vanished from the town. Rumour has it she wandered into the marshes and drowned. In any case, Silas Norwhich came back from his errand in Dartmoor, carrying a load of guilt. For a long time he talked to no one of it and his brother had a good life in France, but never had a child. He died eventually, of pneumonia. As he grew older, Silas became obsessed with finding out what had happened to the woman in Cunningham and the baby. I should say, he became obsessed with the idea they had not died and could still be traced. He wanted to give them money to set the injustice of old straight. Money up front, and then his entire fortune, upon his death. He was certain it was the only way to clear his conscience before he died, and he engaged me to achieve this aim.'

Pemboldt focused on them again, his eyes weary. ‘I have tried to find out all I could, but I could not establish either the woman's death or her survival. Meanwhile Silas's obsession became so strong he was never doing anything else but reading up books about Cunningham, travelling there to see the land, tracking down people who remembered those days, et cetera. In the end I knew for sure there was but one way to stop it and that was to produce the child, the missing heir, to whom he could leave his fortune and set straight what he had done wrong.'

He wet his lips. ‘I knew I would be creating a lie, but it pained me to see him burdened by this guilt, after so much time had passed. It had really been his brother's wrongdoing, not his. His brother had never bothered to do anything about it, so why should Silas suffer for it? I only wanted to help him.'

He sighed. ‘I had seen a photograph of this girl that his brother had then courted and I sent my most trusted employee Fitzroy Walker to look for someone who was just like her. I also insisted on her having a British mother who was deceased so the story would match the truth as much as possible. When Walker came back from New York with Evelyn Steinbeck, a burden was lifted off my shoulders. She seemed like a decent girl, who could play the part without causing trouble or making bad slips that could betray the secret. Once she was introduced to him, Silas was beyond happy and I was finally free to forget about the whole thing.'

Pemboldt sighed again. ‘I guess his death so soon after his only heir was found made it all look so suspicious. I was worried the police would start an investigation, find out the truth and believe I had been a part of it from the start. That I had planted this false heir on him with a specific purpose. However, I consoled myself with the idea that I could prove that I would not benefit financially in any way, and my innocence would be clear to all.'

Jake said, ‘But you did not know that your partner Fitzroy Walker was getting Evelyn Steinbeck to
marry him so everything that was once Silas Norwhich's would then be his. As an employee in your firm he must have had an excellent idea of how substantial Mr Norwhich's riches were and how attractive the prospect of inheriting it all, via marriage to the fake heiress he had himself produced.'

Alkmene saw the old man sway. She continued softly, ‘Yes, you had no idea of Mr Walker's intentions, perhaps, but if he had pulled it off, it would have looked very bad for you indeed.'

The old man sat up straight, his eyes blazing. ‘Then Fitzroy Walker must be the killer. He must have gone over to talk Silas into letting him marry his niece and when Silas refused… I know he will have refused, as he was a proud man who would never accept a simple lawyer as husband for his niece.'

Jake beside her winced a moment.

Pemboldt spoke, full of fire about his theory, ‘He must have pushed him so he fell and died. Even if he did not intend to kill him, he is guilty of wanting the niece and the money, of driving Silas into death.'

Pemboldt's voice broke. ‘I am guilty also for choosing Walker for the mission in America. He has a sharp mind and knows how to improvise, which seemed excellent for the delicate matter at hand. But when he set eyes on Evelyn Steinbeck, he must have believed that everything he normally would have to work for long years to earn was now within his grasp. He forgot all about Silas Norwhich's anguish and our intent to help him. Instead he decided this was the ideal way to secure a future for himself.'

Pemboldt swallowed hard. ‘I have delivered both my client and this innocent young woman into the hands of a vulture.'

‘It seems so,' Jake agreed softly. He sat thinking, his feet planted apart, his hands on his knees. ‘Did you have any knowledge of an argument Silas Norwhich had at the theatre shortly before he died?'

‘Yes.' Pemboldt flinched. He seemed to steel himself to be able to tell this part of the story to them. ‘Silas came here, raving mad. Just stormed into my office, while I was speaking with another client, demanded that the client leave, and I talked to him at once. I saw he was too angry to listen to reason, so I did what he asked without protest. As soon as we were alone, he told me that people claiming to be heirs to his fortune now pursued him and that the only way they could have found out about the tie with Cunningham was via me. I denied most strongly that I had ever shared anything with anyone that could have led people with such claims to his door, but he left, still convinced it was all my fault.'

Jake asked sharply, ‘Someone came to see him claiming to be his heir, specifically mentioning Cunningham?'

‘Yes. I can assure you I never told anybody about the unhappy history. It must have been Walker again. I should never have involved him. I believed I could trust him completely, but I was so wrong.' Pemboldt buried his head in his hands again.

‘Perhaps it was not your fault as much as you believe,' Jake said. ‘We are very grateful for your honesty. And no word of this will ever be known to the public, unless it has to be revealed in a court of law to bring Silas Norwhich's killer to justice.'

‘In that case,' Pemboldt said in a stronger voice, ‘I would be the first to demand it would be revealed.'

Jake rose. ‘We understand each other.' He reached out and carefully shook the old man's hand. ‘Take care and be wary of Fitzroy Walker until we know for sure he was not the killer. If he can push a big man and kill him, he can certainly kill you.'

Chapter Fifteen

‘So what do we have now?' Alkmene said as they walked down the street away from Pemboldt's offices. ‘The conversation I overheard was Walker asking Evelyn Steinbeck to marry him, but she refused. He knew that upon her marriage she would come into part of the fortune and he wanted it, right away, for if he knew that there was a man about claiming that he was the heir, Steinbeck's deception might not last. So he had to marry her, fast. He said something about the major not being able to intervene after the marriage. Therefore he mentioned Gretna Green, because he knew he'd never get permission from either the major or the uncle to let the wedding go ahead and he wanted her anyway, or better, her money. The marriage had to be absolutely valid and he knew Gretna Green would make it so. Now…Evelyn Steinbeck didn't want to marry him, and she was in no hurry to get the money, so we can rule her out. Besides, she wasn't the person calling on Silas Norwhich that night.'

‘And whatever was taken from his dead hand was a birth certificate,' Jake reminded her. ‘Someone was desperate to keep the fantasy alive that Evelyn Steinbeck was the real heir. It must have been Walker.'

‘But we can't rule out the real heir either, or rather the person who appeared at the theatre to claim he was. What if he got so mad that he pushed Silas Norwhich to his death? Never meaning to kill him maybe… What if he came to prove he was the heir and gave Norwhich some sort of document to prove it, then Norwhich denied it was real and he pushed him in anger and killed him, then pulled the paper from his dead hand, not noticing a snippet stayed behind?'

Jake nodded. ‘So it is a tie between Walker and this man who appeared at the theatre.'

‘The man returned from the dead,' Alkmene said satisfied. ‘The countess was so right. He did appear like he had risen from those marshes in which the woman and her baby were supposed to have drowned.'

‘We have no idea if he even knew about Cunningham.'

‘Yes, he said so. Why else would Silas Norwhich have been so mad at his attorney? He believed Pemboldt had spread the word and provoked these fake claims.'

‘So if the man at the theatre knew about Cunningham, but not from the lawyer, his claim could have been real.'

‘That depends.' Alkmene touched his arm. ‘Consider. Norwhich was obsessed with Cunningham, asking around for information. That must have led to talk. Maybe somebody there thought up the same plan as the lawyers had. Produce a fake heir and cash in.'

Jake nodded. ‘So we have to go and visit Cunningham to find out who was in the know about this summer romance of old and the baby that was supposed to have been born of it. How soon can you pack for a trip?'

Alkmene stared at him. ‘Soon enough. Why?'

‘I will rent a car, and we are going to Dartmoor.'

‘Not again!' Jake Dubois hit the brake as a whole herd of sheep poured into the narrow road. A sleek black and white dog followed, yapping at them. Then a shepherd, with a green felt hat with a feather on his curly hair and a long stick in his hand.

He lifted his free hand at them, as he watched the sheep squeeze themselves one by one through a narrow opening in the stone wall on the other side of the road. This kind of natural wall – stones held together by their own weight – had run along their road for miles now, closing in meadows and fields, or orchards with gnarled trees, their trunks covered with moss.

Jake drummed on the wheel. ‘At this pace we will never get to Cunningham.'

‘Don't be so negative,' Alkmene said. ‘The last sign said five more miles. We must have done four already. Look around you. Sweet little cottages with chimneys that are about to collapse, authentic characters like this shepherd.'

Alkmene waved at him with her gloved hand as he crossed, whistling to his dog that had strayed a few yards to sniff against the wall. It came running with its tail up, making a weird leap like a lamb outdoors for the first time in spring.

Alkmene sighed in satisfaction. ‘It is so peaceful here. No people in a hurry, bustling about, shouting at each other. I'd love to spend summers in the countryside like they did in the old days.'

‘You'd die of boredom,' Jake said cynically as he hit the gas and let the engine rev.

Alkmene rolled her eyes at him.

‘Really,' he said. ‘No shops to go to, to spend money on costumes and hats, no countesses to meet up with at fancy tea parlours.'

‘I'd go out into the fields to paint.' Alkmene nodded firmly. ‘I'd sit down by a brook and try to capture the essence of the flowing water or I'd do a view of the moor with threatening storm clouds over it. Then just before the weather broke, I'd carry my easel to some rustic inn and order their stew.'

She could just see herself leaning back in a nice leather chair at the fire, rubbing her chilly hands and breathing the delicious scents from the kitchen.

‘You do know they put sheep's eyes into it?'

‘In Scotland maybe. Not here.' Alkmene settled better in the car seat and folded her hands in her lap. ‘I would have the innkeeper's wife make me a lunch to carry along as I took my car for a spin to visit some old ruin of a castle or a settlement on the moor. I am fascinated by excavations. You?'

‘Not particularly,' Jake said in a sour tone.

‘Oh, come on. Any adventurous heart must beat faster at the prospect of finding a gold treasure.'

Jake held his head back and laughed. ‘I don't think a settlement on the moor would yield a gold treasure. Just shards of used pottery and dry bones. Animal but very possibly also human.'

Alkmene sobered. ‘I do wonder if that poor woman died in the marshes. She must have been desperate that her husband's brother wanted to force her into setting him free. While she was with child. I guess she had no family who could stand up for her. Maybe they had even warned her when she started the relationship that it might not last.'

‘They could not have stood up for her either way,' Jake said with a dark look. ‘They were probably common folk, like that authentic shepherd of yours. People you don't have to take seriously, when you have money and power.'

Alkmene sighed. ‘Are you going to give me that again?'

‘Well, do you ever see yourself ending up in that position? Pregnant and forced to relinquish your
claim on the man you love, forced by some family member who doesn't think you good enough for his brother. Let's be honest. That was it. They did not care for the question whether those two loved each other or not. They just wanted a wife for their son and brother who was in their league.'