Dead for a Spell (24 page)

“I
do find you somewhat predictable, Harry,” said Mr. Stoker, sitting back and gazing out at the passing countryside as the carriage trundled along the country road. “I enquired around the theatre when I got in this morning, and no one had seen you. Bill Thomas told me of the message you had received late yesterday, mentioning a gentleman's club on St. James's Street. I guessed that it was Brooks's and that you had been summoned there by your friend the commissionaire. It was obvious, to me at least, that this was to do with the comings and goings of Lord Glenmont, so I immediately tied your disappearance to a desire to revisit the Glenmont caves. Am I correct?”

I had been overjoyed to see my boss smiling down at me from the carriage. He always seemed to turn up when I most needed him. I now sat with my sodden bowler hat resting on the seat opposite me and my hands thrust deep into my pockets.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Very perceptive of you, if I may say so.”

I went on to tell him of my adventures and of the gamekeeper's domestic chores within the caves.

“Getting things in order for use in the immediate future, would you say, Harry?”

“Yes, I would. That was my thought. I'd stake anything on the caves being the place where they are planning on having their ritual.”

His big head nodded. “Mmm! Yes, I have to agree with you. It seems most probable. The only real clue we have, so far, as to the exact venue. Well done, Harry. A little presumptuous of you to go running off like that, all by yourself, but commendable nonetheless.”

“Thank you, sir. So what are we going to do?”

“Ah! What indeed, Harry?”

Mr. Stoker could be very annoying at times, I thought. Surely we could now go rushing in and rescue Jenny. I said as much.

“Rush in where, Harry? To the caves? But you know yourself that they are empty. There will be no activity there—if indeed that is the site to be used—until Saturday night. Another three days. We know that Jenny is not being held in the caves. You have seen as much yourself. So why would you have us go rushing in there?”

He was right, of course. But it just felt so frustrating to sit there and do nothing. We were almost certain that the ritual would take place in the Glenmont caves, but as Mr. Stoker said, we still did not know where Jenny was. It was going to be a long ride back to the Lyceum.

*   *   *

S
omewhat to my surprise, I had a good night's rest after my excursion to the Knowl Estate. I had half expected to toss and turn all night. After a quick, if somewhat inadequate, breakfast, I was out and along to Mr. Stoker's office bright and early Thursday morning. He was already there. Since the start of
Othello
rehearsals my boss had been coming into the theatre extremely early for him. It still caught me by surprise.

“Good morning, Harry. Sit down. We have much to discuss.”

I did as he bid.

“Lord Glenmont.”

I waited.

“All we have so far is circumstantial evidence.”

I started to speak, but Stoker held up his hand.

“Consider it, Harry. In fact, all we know is that his lordship will not be going into his club for a few days and that his gamekeeper has been sweeping out the old caves under the Glenmont folly. Now, what would Inspector Bellamy, for example, make of that?”

I again opened my mouth to speak, only to be silenced.

“Yes, I know your opinion of Inspector Bellamy, and I'm not about to dispute that. But the point is, Harry, that we don't have anything definite to link Lord Glenmont to this bunch of would-be Hellfire ghouls. Nothing!”

“We can't sit and be idle, sir!” I cried.

“Of course we can't. And we are not going to. No! There is a great deal that we can do. Top of our list, of course, is to try to locate where your Miss Cartwright is being held.”

“Yes!” I nodded vigorously. “But where do we start looking? You've pointed out that she isn't in the caves themselves. Just supposing that Lord Glenmont
is
behind all of this, have you any idea where he would keep her? Do you think that Knowl Hall is a possibility?”

“I think it well worth investigating, Harry. We must leave no stone unturned.”

There was a tap on the door, and it was thrown open. We were surprised to see the Guv'nor standing there, with Miss Terry close behind him. We both came to our feet.

“Sit, gentlemen. Pray, sit.”

The pair came into the room. Despite what Mr. Irving said, I stood and offered my seat to Miss Terry. She gave me one of her wonderful smiles and sat down with murmured thanks. I was sorry I didn't know where my boss kept his cushion.

“What can I do for you, Henry?” asked Mr. Stoker.

“You can bring us up to date on our missing young lady, for a start, Abraham. Both Ellen and I have an interest in what happens to our Lyceum extended family, for I do see my own household staff as part of that kin.”

Mr. Stoker started to do that, telling of my excursion the previous day. While he did so I slipped out and found another chair, which I carried into the office. With a brief nod, the Guv'nor sat down. I closed the door behind me and leaned back against it, listening to what was said.

“So where do we go from here?” asked the Guv'nor, when Mr. Stoker had finished. He echoed my own earlier question.

“Young Harry and I were just discussing that and pondering the possibility of Miss Cartwright being detained at Knowl Hall itself,” said my boss. “Though I have no idea how we might ascertain that.”

“Well now, I might be able to help there,” said Miss Terry.

We all looked at her in some surprise.

“Oh yes.” She laughed, her musical laugh, shaking her head. “Don't look so astonished. As it happens I do know Lady Glenmont reasonably well. She and I have both been present at the Great Spring Show for the past two or three years. The Royal Horticultural Society's Show is held at the society's garden in Kensington, as you may know.”

“Is it not a little early for that?” asked the Guv'nor.

“For the show itself, only a week or so,” agreed Miss Terry. “But Lady Glenmont is on the committee, and she and I are always involved in preparation work. As it happens we were both at a meeting less than a fortnight ago.”

“Not to make light of your horticultural interest, my dear,” said Mr. Irving, “but where does this lead us, might one ask?”

She smiled patiently and patted him on the knee. “You were wanting to know whether dear Jenny might be detained at the hall, Henry. I could go there and try to find out for you. Lady Glenmont would be delighted to receive me, I know. I could go with questions about the coming flower show. Believe me, I could do a little ‘looking around' while I am there, if that would help?”

“Wonderful!” Mr. Stoker and Mr. Irving both spoke together. Miss Terry smiled at everyone, and I felt a warm glow in my stomach.

“I shall go first thing in the morning,” said Miss Terry. “For now, I must leave you gentlemen. I have a costume fitting I must attend.”

*   *   *

“W
e need to decide upon a plan of campaign.”

After Miss Terry departed, the meeting moved to the Guv'nor's dressing room, where he felt more comfortable. I perched on the edge of an upholstered chair with my notebook open on Mr. Irving's makeup table. He and Mr. Stoker relaxed on a comfortable-looking tripartite sofa on which, I understood, the Guv'nor would occasionally stretch out and relax between acts.

“It certainly looks as though the upcoming ritual is to take place in the caves below the folly, whether Lord Glenmont is aware of it or not,” said Mr. Stoker. “So we have to plan our actions for that location. Now, young Harry has discovered a rear entrance to the caves, which solves what I had seen to be our biggest stumbling block . . . how to gain access to the ritual.”

“Well done, Mr. Rivers,” murmured the Guv'nor. I felt myself blush, which was ridiculous when I thought about it. “And this entrance is easy to find?”

The blush evaporated, or whatever blushes do. I suddenly realized that in making my escape from the caves I had rushed away without marking exactly where the entrance was located. I vaguely recalled that there was a large bush partially hiding it and that there was an oak tree close by, but other than that I had no idea.

“Of course,” said my boss, glancing at me. “Right, Harry?”

I mumbled some brief response and kept my head down over my notebook. Surely, I thought, I'd be able to spot it when I returned there. How difficult could it be?

“I would like to join you on this,” said the Guv'nor, surprising both Mr. Stoker and myself.

“But—but this could be dangerous, Henry. This is no staged play . . .”

“Nonsense! I'm fit. Have to be for what I do. No, I intend to be a part of this rescue attempt. It's the least I can do. After all, the young lady is in my employ.”

There was no arguing with him. Personally, I thought that the more of us there were, the better, since there were apparently quite a number of the Hellfire people. I made so bold as to say as much.

“Aren't there close to a dozen of these people?” I asked. “Perhaps we should even recruit some of the stagehands, sir? I know Sam Green would be happy to lend a hand.”

“And Edwin, too, I don't doubt.” Mr. Irving was becoming enthusiastic. “The colonel also, perhaps . . .”

“No!”

I was surprised at the force of Mr. Stoker's rejection of that last suggestion. The Guv'nor looked surprised as well. Mr. Stoker hurried on. “Don't ask me why right now, Henry, but I would rather not include Mr. Booth's manager, if you don't mind.” He turned to me. “But I like your idea, Harry. Yes, let's ask Sam Green to join us, and perhaps a few others, though we may have to restrict our numbers due to the limited room. Is there cover for us when we get into the caves?”

My mind went back to my crouching behind the small pile of rocks.

“Very little, I'm afraid. We may have to be strung out back through the entranceway, ready to rush in when you give the command, sir.”

“What is the order of the program?” asked Mr. Irving.

Stoker shrugged. “We don't know, and cannot know. We can only surmise. It is going to be an extemporaneous performance for our side, I'm afraid.”

“There is that raised section in the center of the main cave that I told you about, sir,” I said. “Presumably that's where they'll have Jenny. Do we just rush in and rescue her as soon as they bring her in, or must we wait for some special time?”

“I know you are cognizant of these arcane rites, Abraham. Tell us the probable order of things.”

Mr. Stoker pursed his lips and squinted his eyes as he thought. Slowly, he started to share those thoughts.

“It is my belief that the celebrants will be the first to fill the cave, probably distributed around in a circle. Possibly some of them will have designated tasks, such as the lighting of candles and of incense, the purification of the area, and the like. The introduction of the intended sacrifice—our Miss Cartwright—will follow with all due ceremony. You will need to brace yourself, Harry, and restrain yourself from doing anything foolish. She may be bound and gagged, or she may simply be drugged so that she is at least semi-pliant. She may not walk in of her own accord but may be carried in and laid on the sacrificial altar.”

“Good heavens!” murmured Mr. Irving.

“She will be well guarded,” continued Mr. Stoker. “We will have to carefully time our attack . . . and make no mistake, this will be an attack on our part. The celebrants will be in a somewhat drugged state themselves, from the incense, possibly wine, and the whole ecstatic glow and euphoria of the occasion. But they will be quite capable of defending what they see as their ‘property.' They will not tolerate having reached that peak of emotion only to see their sacrifice snatched away.”

“What about weapons, Abraham?”

“Weapons?” Mr. Stoker's eyes opened wider and he sat up straight. “Yes, Henry. Yes, you are right. We may well need some sort of weapons, though I doubt the general congregation will be armed. Although . . .” He broke off as various thoughts obviously passed through his mind. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose there is always the possibility that each of the celebrants may carry a ritual knife of some sort. Still, such tools are usually purely ritualistic and not meant for mundane use.”

“You mean, they wouldn't use them to fight us?” asked the Guv'nor.

My boss didn't look comfortable. “Such would be the case in any normal situation, but here . . . well, we just don't know.”

“Why not clubs of some sort, sir?” I suggested. “I couldn't imagine myself crossing blades with someone, but I will willingly break a few skulls to rescue Jenny!”

“Well said, young Harold!” cried Mr. Irving. “I would rather look forward to crossing swords with someone, but I can see that in such a confined space that might not be the best weapon of choice. Yes. I think you have the right idea. Cudgels it should be!”

F
riday was a blur for me. Happily, I was very much involved in the rehearsals for
Othello
. Come what may with the Glenmont caves ritual the next day, we were all fully aware that opening night for the play was on Monday. Everything had to be ready at the Lyceum for that event. Saturday afternoon would be the first costume rehearsal and Sunday the final dress rehearsal. The whole theatre could not come to a halt because Jenny was missing, even though there was every indication she could well become a murder victim.

Inspector Bellamy was very much in evidence, thanks to pressure from Mr. Stoker, who asked him to call. He was apprised of our plans for invading the caves—tut-tutting at the fact we had kept it all from him until this point—but he promised the support of a number of police constables.

Miss Terry returned from Knowl Hall quite late in the afternoon and found Mr. Irving, Mr. Stoker, Inspector Bellamy, and myself gathered in the star's dressing room.

“What news, my dear?” asked the Guv'nor. “Did you discover any sign of our missing damsel?”

Miss Terry smiled, sat, and semi-reclined on the sofa while the gentlemen stood admiring her.

“I can tell you, with absolute conviction, that poor Miss Cartwright is not being held at Knowl Hall.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“After the appropriate amount of gossip about the upcoming horticultural extravaganza, I admired Lady Glenmont's wallpaper.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Even Mr. Irving's jaw hung open briefly, though he closed it faster than the rest of us did ours.

Miss Terry laughed. “Yes. I used it as a way to get into talk of furnishings. I told her that I loved to look at other people's ideas for decoration in order to get ideas for decorating sets onstage. She was delighted and took me on a tour of the house . . . beautiful residence, I might say, Henry. You should get Lord Glenmont to take you around sometime.”

“And there was no sign of Miss Cartwright?” pressed Inspector Bellamy.

She shook her beautiful blond head. “None whatsoever,” she said. “And I was not altogether surprised.”

We all looked at her questioningly.

“Marjorie—Lady Glenmont—told me that first thing tomorrow morning she and her husband are leaving for Sandringham. I was lucky, and honored, that she made time for my visit. The Glenmonts will be spending a few days as guests of His Royal Highness, Edward, Prince of Wales. There is a strong possibility that Her Majesty may be there as well, according to Marjorie. She is quite excited.”

“So Glenmont is going away,” said Mr. Irving.

“Which means he can't be leading the group that will be in his caves,” concluded my boss.

“We are back to the beginning,” I muttered.

The inspector looked from one to the other of us. More specifically, at the other three. As usual, he ignored me.

“Where does this put us?” he asked.

“In the same place,” replied Stoker. “In the Glenmont caves. Just because his lordship won't be there—it seems highly probable that he is not involved after all—that doesn't mean that there will be no activity in his caves. Harry, here, was there a day or two ago and saw the preparation.”

“And anyway, it is the only clue we have, is it not?” asked the Guv'nor.

My boss agreed. We were all silent for a while.

“By the way, I've canceled my Freemasonry initiation,” said the Guv'nor. “That was set for tomorrow evening.”

“Canceled it, Henry? But you were so looking forward to that. You went to a lot of trouble preparing,” said Miss Terry. “What happened?”

“Well,
this
happened!” The Guv'nor spread his hands to indicate all of us. “This need to rescue our young lady. You surely don't think that, even for such a momentous occasion as my initiation promised to be, I would abandon my family?”

“Oh, Henry!” Miss Terry's eyes glistened with tears.

I felt a lump in my throat. So often I had thought Mr. Irving to be unfeeling and even unaware of the rest of us. Now here he was making his own very powerful sacrifice on Jenny's behalf. I was humbled.

“The colonel, of course, tried his best to talk me out of it,” he continued. “But I remained firm. A new date can be set, I am sure. What we have to do is far more important.”

“Did you tell the colonel your reason for canceling?” asked Mr. Stoker.

“I didn't go into details, Abraham, no.”

“Good,” murmured my boss.

The inspector pulled out his pocket watch and made a great show of looking at it. “Well, we have much ground to cover if we are to prepare for this assault tomorrow. At what time do we assemble?” He addressed Mr. Stoker, apparently acknowledging my boss's leadership. “We take it we need to be in position well ahead of the Hellfire group's arrival?”

“I don't think so,” said Stoker, which brought a surprised look to the inspector's face. “My thought is that they may be there from early evening. Who knows? The ritual itself will not take place till late evening . . . I'm sure they have in mind a midnight sacrifice. But they would not want to arrive en masse, especially since his lordship doesn't know of their intended use of his property. And they won't know that he won't actually be at the residence, I'm sure. So they will in all probability arrive in ones and twos, slipping onto the property and making for the caves. If we tried to be there ahead of them it would mean being in place and staying securely hidden for many hours.”

The inspector grunted. “Hmm! We can't see our men sitting quiet for that long!”

“Exactly,” agreed Stoker. “So my suggestion is that we get there after all the ritualists are safely tucked into the caves.”

“But won't there be guards? Watchmen?” asked Mr. Irving.

“I don't think so, Henry. Probably our ubiquitous gamekeeper, but I feel fairly certain he will be alone.”

“We can easily overpower him, if we need to,” I said.

Stoker nodded. “Exactly. Then we will quietly enter by way of the rear entrance, we four leading the way, and lie low until I give the signal to attack. Unlike the Hellfire people, we can all arrive together, though assembling some distance from the estate. We will then advance cautiously and quietly slip in to take up our positions.”

“And they will be?” asked the inspector.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly where will our positions be? We haven't been there before.”

I moved forward and unfolded a large sheet of paper I had prepared. I spread it out on the makeup table.

“I've made a rough sketch map of the area,” I said, as they crowded around me. “Here is the main entrance to the caves, in the folly. And here”—I pointed—“is approximately where I remember the rear entrance to be.”

Inspector Bellamy opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly continued.

“There is a large bush by the entrance and an oak tree not far from it. The rows of beeches that line the driveway are not far away, and there are plenty of other bushes and underbrush, so there is a good amount of cover. I will determine the exact entrance and wave my handkerchief. Mr. Stoker and Mr. Irving will join me, followed by you, Inspector, together with your men and our stagehands.”

“I would suggest that some of the men gather at the front entrance,” said Mr. Irving. “I would imagine that when we break up their meeting, they will move to escape by the way they went in.”

“We'll be there to arrest them,” assured the inspector.

“And where do I come in?”

We all looked up as Miss Terry rose from the sofa and came across to look at my hand-drawn map.

“You don't, my dear,” responded the Guv'nor. “We are not going to risk your lovely neck in a possible melee.”

“But I have to play some part!” she protested.

“If I may suggest a most important part?” said my boss.

“Please do, Abraham.” Mr. Irving looked at him hopefully.

“We will have to leave here in the afternoon; it is a number of miles away. Tomorrow afternoon is the costume rehearsal. Perhaps Miss Terry might take charge of that, thus freeing you to be with us, Henry?”

“Perfect!” cried the Guv'nor. “And I will urge Edwin to stay also. I have no wish to risk the neck of our American guests, either.”

Miss Terry sighed and then looked around at each of our faces, finally breaking into a smile. “If it will contribute to the cause, gentlemen. Very well.”

*   *   *

I
slept very badly Friday night, though probably much better than did my beloved Jenny. She must have known what lay in store for her, and she had no way of knowing if help was at hand or far, too far, away. I skipped breakfast, telling myself that I would eat a good lunch to compensate. But by lunchtime I had absolutely no appetite at all. I did, however, force myself to take some small repast at the Druid's Head so that I would be somewhat fortified for what promised to be a long evening reaching late into the night.

The Guv'nor organized some rehearsing before the main costume rehearsal was scheduled to start, and the theatre became a hive of activity. But after an early dinner break—at which I again ate very little—Sam Green and some of his men slipped away and gathered outside the scenery bay doors. The Guv'nor, Mr. Stoker, and myself quickly joined them. We were all dressed in black. We had ordered two four-wheelers, which stood at curbside, and we climbed into them.

“What are we waiting for, Abraham?” asked Mr. Irving, as we sat and looked about us.

As if in answer, three more carriages came around the corner carrying Inspector Bellamy and the men from Scotland Yard. Mr. Stoker acknowledged their arrival and then gave the signal for our cabbie to set off.

There was very little conversation on the journey. Each of us had our separate thoughts of how the night would play out. The caravan of carriages passed through Ealing, Greenford, and Uxbridge. As evening drew on, the sun sank down, and night slowly descended upon us. By the time we reached Beaconsfield it was quite dark.

My mind ran over possibilities of what might take place in the caves. There would be some sort of a ritual, I knew. Exactly what, I had no idea; Mr. Stoker had given no specifics. He had spoken of the possibility of singing and some sort of dancing, though I couldn't imagine the dancing with which I was familiar taking place in a dark cave, as part of a secret rite. But what did I know? I did know that at some point the leader of this infernal group would approach my beloved, who presumably would be laid out on some sort of altar. There would come the inevitable as he raised a knife . . . dagger? Sword? I had no idea. But I did know that I had to do something!

I could see myself running across the darkened space, thrusting aside drunken revelers, striking out at all who tried to stop me! I would . . .

“Harry!”

Mr. Stoker's voice broke into my fantasy.

“Try to relax, Harry. I know what must be going through your mind. Let us just stay with our plan and do nothing rash.”

He was right, of course. I looked down at the heavy cudgel I had brought with me. I had dug it out of the properties under the stage. It was heavy, but not too heavy for me to wield and break a few heads, if necessary. I smiled and tried to relax. I saw that the Guv'nor had followed along similar thoughts to myself and had a hefty walking stick with a heavy-looking silver knob to it resting alongside his seat. Somewhat to my surprise I saw that my boss had dragged along one of his Indian clubs; the sort he unconcernedly tossed about his office when exercising. He handled them easily, but I knew them to be extremely heavy. I had once tried to lift one. It must have been all of fifty pounds. I sat back and tried to relax for the rest of the journey.