Edith Layton (22 page)

Dubbin bent to his task. Within minutes Drum’s cast fell away and lay like the peel of an orange in sections around his leg. Alexandria felt a lump rise in her throat and a cold knot in her stomach. Drum’s face was impassive.

“Very good,” Fitch said. “Now Dubbin, stand aside and be still. But watch them every moment, because snakes have been known to bite even after they’ve been crushed.”

“Now you’ll explain why we’re here?” Drum asked, his voice cool and clear.

“I am happy to,” Fitch said, turning to face him. “No, delighted. In fact, the only regret I’ve had about my last attempt was that you didn’t know why I did it. I was flushed with success when I saw you fall—I thought it was done. But it wasn’t. I felt cheated. It occurred to me later, on the road to London. I actually
came back to find you and tell you before I finished you, in case I already hadn’t, but Miss Gascoyne reached you before I could. I was glad you recovered, because my too hasty act rankled. I realized, too late, that revenge has less meaning if the one you’re trying to pay back doesn’t know why you did it, or how happy it makes him.”

He paced a few steps, then turned to Drum again. “I’m bound for a new world tonight. Now I can leave knowing my act will be complete. It’s a great consolation to me.”

“So happy to oblige,” Drum said dryly. “But can you bring yourself to tell me why? I accept your glee, but not the reason for it.”

“No more games,” Fitch said. “You know, it’s time to admit it. You have no escape.”

“Probably not,” Drum said, “but no answers either. I made enemies during the war, but your name didn’t signify when it was submitted to me by my sources. If I’d had dealings with you I wouldn’t have forgotten. How have I offended you? I must have. Did I dispose of any relative or lover of yours? Ruin one or seduce another? It’s possible. We did that to each other in those days, it was only another aspect of the war.”

Fitch lost his air of civility. “Lies and more lies, you’re a prince of lies!” he shouted, his voice ringing out in the vastness of the place. He heard his words echoing back and took a deep breath. When he spoke again his voice was pinched but calmer. “You know very well,” he said. “It’s the most important thing you ever did. You killed him—the greatest man who ever walked this earth! A man whose boots you were not fit to lick!”

“Did I?” Drum asked. “And who might that be?”

But now Fitch was pacing. “You visited him in January at Longwood House. You’d visited him before. You were a gentleman, a charming man, he said, who spoke French like a native and knew military history. Why shouldn’t he trust you? There’s supposed to be honor among gentlemen.” Fitch tried to laugh, but it came out like a sob. “You didn’t even have the courage to do it in a manly way by knife or gun, or even garrote. He was a soldier, a fighter, a man who deserved a clean kind of end, not what you dealt him.”

Drum sat up. “January? I was at St. Helena then…Longwood House? You’re accusing me of killing
Bonaparte
?”

Alexandria sat up so sharply that Dubbin took a step toward her. She sank back and stared at Drum. He shook his head. “Here’s madness. He died of a disease of his liver, in May. I was in England then, you have to know that.”

Fitch nodded vigorously. “But you delivered something to Lieutenant General Lowe, didn’t you?”

“Messages from home,” Drum said, sounding honestly perplexed.

“And poison,” Fitch said. He held up a hand. “Don’t deny it. The sweating, stomach pains, the nausea, pallor, and loss of appetite were unmistakable. The autopsy said it was his liver, but it was arsenic poisoning, we know that now.”

“By God, man,” Drum said, “That’s nonsense. Who said such a stupid thing?”

“Marchand!” Fitch said triumphantly.

“The valet?” Drum asked, frowning. “He’s mad or mad with grief. He was devoted to his master, but
that’s utter rot! Look, Fitch, there was no need to kill Bonaparte. His war was done, he was secured, it was over and he knew it. He did sicken; I think he let himself fail. He pined away because he knew the grand adventure was done. He was, in his way, a great mind, I grant you that. Perhaps he died for the same reasons a wild eagle can’t thrive in a cage. We didn’t kill him.
I
certainly didn’t.”

“He
would
have got free,” Fitch said doggedly. “The Allies weren’t safe while he breathed and they knew it. We’d have got him out again. I’m an Englishman and there are many more like me here, I’m going to New Orleans in the new world, where there are even more. Thousands of us. Where there’s life there’s hope; you were afraid of that. It would never be over until he was dead. So they sent someone to end it in a way that couldn’t cast doubt. The Allies were judge and jury, his doctors mere instruments, but you were the assassin, Drummond. He began to fail from the moment you first arrived. Before I leave here I
will
see justice done.”

“How much time and money did you put into him and his cause, I wonder,” Drum mused, “that you’re so mad with grief now?”

“What is money to honor?” Fitch asked. “What is time when you have a cause to believe in? I found a star and followed it. You extinguished it!” He gestured as he paced. Alexandria shrank in her chair as he passed. The man was mad.

“I was going to leave England,” Fitch went on. “I couldn’t bear being here anymore. The celebrations, the joy, the way my loss kept being pounded into my ears. I’d taught at that laughable facsimile of Eton, a
wretched school and a miserable life only made bearable by my dreams. When they were crushed I knew I had to go. I’d just given notice at the school that day and was on my way to London to clear up the rest of my business before I left for good. I was riding toward the turnpike—and I saw you! It was a stroke of fate.

“I recognized you!” he said, wheeling around and staring at Drum. “Years ago I’d taken some lout on the Grand Tour and persuaded him to stop at Elba. I spoke to the emperor and knew my life’s work then. But I saw you there too, and asked about you. When I got home I kept track of you, and your kind, your comings and goings. We all did. We kept charts, in fact. Gascoyne too, did you never see them, Miss Gascoyne? Of course not, Louis was a careful man,” he answered himself without turning his head to see her reaction. All his attention was on Drum. “I never thought to see you again, Drummond. When I did it all came clear in an instant, like a lightning bolt slicing through my head. I knew what I must do. Fate hadn’t put you there for no reason. One must seize the moment! I tried, I failed. This time, I won’t.”

“I see,” Drum said wearily. “Folly,” he said with sympathy. “Useless for me to deny it though, isn’t it? Longwood House was like a grand spa. We joked that it was Napoleon’s last resort, because we thought he’d live out his life there in spectacular comfort. If it was a prison it was a luxurious one. There were more doctors, French and English, than I could count, to attend to his every sneeze. A steady stream of visitors from all nations. Parties, routs, musicales, too. He was a greater attraction than the pyramids, for God’s sake! You’ve seized on me as the villain because you need one. And
because I think, Fitch, if you could think about it reasonably, you’d see something has twisted in your mind now, you can’t see straight anymore.”

“You were there twice!” Fitch cried. “As well as on Elba. And you’re a known agent of the government.”

Drum sighed. “So are dozens of others. But you aren’t interested in truth anymore, are you? Because if you don’t blame me, who can you blame? How can you avenge yourself on the free nations? How can you avenge yourself on Fate, or God?”

“By putting an end to you,” Fitch said with satisfaction.

“And Miss Gascoyne?” Drum asked softly. “Surely you can see she had no part in this.”

“She did not,” Fitch agreed. “But she does now.”

“M
ISS
G
ASCOYNE WAS IN THE WRONG PLACE AT
the wrong time the day I was shot at,” Drum said patiently. “Coincidence made you both stumble upon me that day. There’s more of the same going on now. That’s all it is in her case. She helped a stranger, found me like a sick puppy in a ditch, and brought me home to mend. I met her at Vauxhall tonight because I wanted to show her a bit of London life before she went home. There’s no reason to involve her in this.”

Fitch laughed. “Now there is. My dear sir, I shall kill you today. How can I leave her now?”

“Then don’t leave her,” Drum said simply. “Take her with you. You said you wanted her once,” he went on relentlessly, ignoring Alexandria’s gasp. “Now you can have her, why not?”

“Because I won’t have it!” Alexandria shouted. Drum gave her a warning look, but she was too angry to stop. He might be trying to save her life but she was appalled at his solution. She thought she had a better
one, if only to buy time. She refused to believe in disaster; if she did, she’d have given up years ago. She didn’t know what else she could do, but if she could delay what Fitch intended, something, anything might happen.

“Mr. Gascoyne
was
a clever man,” she told Fitch quickly, “He trusted me, didn’t he?”

Fitch turned to look at her.

“With good reason,” she went on hurriedly. “I never breathed a word to anyone about his activities. Even when I got angry with him and left him, I didn’t and I wouldn’t. He died peacefully in his own bed, with no one the wiser. I’d never tell anyone about today, either. And truly, what has happened?” she asked with a sick smile. “Nothing. We simply came here with you. We can go back and say we got into the wrong boat and were lost, that’s all. There’s no need for violence. You can go to the new world and start a new life without worrying about what’s following you.

“The earl said he’s innocent,” she went on desperately, because Fitch was still, his head to the side, watching her and listening closely. “I believe him,” she said. “Not because I trust him. But because Mr. Gascoyne did have a chart. I’ve seen it,” she lied. “Drummond’s name wasn’t on it, at least not more than once or twice. You should have seen how often some of the others are listed! I have. But Drummond was only mentioned a few times, I wouldn’t have kept him in my house if it were otherwise, would I? I wasn’t Mr. Gascoyne’s daughter for nothing, you know,” she added, with another travesty of a smile.

She didn’t look at Drum; she didn’t want to see his reaction. She knew she was throwing away her reputa
tion, branding herself a traitor, but she’d set herself on fire to change things if she had to.

“
Daughter,
is it?” Fitch laughed, showing all his teeth. “Is that what they’re calling it now? Because you’re no kin of his, legally or otherwise.”

Alexandria went pale. Her eyes leapt to Drum and she saw his sudden absence of all expression.

“He never made a secret of it,” Fitch said. “We always wondered what hold he had on you. He was old, as dry as dust, he certainly didn’t have enough money to retain such a charming young creature once she came of age. As it turned out, he had no hold at all. You can’t know how gratifying your flight from him was to me. And as for your seeing Louis’s charts, I very much doubt it. He bragged that no one in his household guessed his mission. So you’re a liar as well as a whore. I never doubted it.”

He turned back to Drum. “Time’s wasting. Now you know why. You took something wonderful from me and the world. I only return a bit of filth to the bottom of the Thames. Two bits of it, to be sure—I keep forgetting Miss Gascoyne. He let her call herself that so he could keep his teaching post, you know. Oh, you didn’t?” he asked, seeing fire kindle in Drum’s searing blue gaze. “Better still.”

He turned from Drum. “Dubbin,” he commanded, “keep close watch on his lordship. I have something to tell Hake before we go.”

He stepped across the platform. He carried a lantern, otherwise Alexandria wouldn’t have seen the door he went to. It was at the side of the wall where the landing met the water. He opened the door and stepped out into the night, closing the door behind him, leaving
that end of the room in darkness again. They heard the slide of metal as he drew a bolt across the door from the outside.

The room was intensely silent. Alexandria was beyond embarrassment at what Fitch had said. Embarrassment was for the living, she realized as it dawned on her that she was almost dead. There was no time for shame or denial. She thought feverishly. She hadn’t escaped so many dangers to die at the hands of a madman, but couldn’t think how to turn this tide of events. The massive Dubbin stood between Drum and her, standing still as a stone, impassive. She looked at Drum. His head was turned to where Fitch had gone, he seemed to be listening closely. Then he nodded.

“Dubbin,” he said conversationally, “I hate to be the one to tell you, but I believe your friend Hake is the one going to the bottom of the Thames now, and when Fitch returns, doubtless you’ll join him.”

“’e said as to ’ow you’d try anything. Now pull the other, so’s I don’t ’ave to gimp, like you,” Dubbin said with a sneer.

“Why else would he have to speak to him now?” Drum asked reasonably. “What could there be to talk about? Everything’s been arranged, hasn’t it? And why lock the door behind him?”

“Ain’t mine to ask,” Dubbin said with a satisfied grunt. “’e pays, I does. Leave be.”

“He means to leave here alone,” Drum said. “He doesn’t need anyone to row a boat, or tell a tale. Didn’t you hear that splash? I did, even with the door closed. I doubt either Fitch or Hake is fishing. Hake just wants to earn a bit of gold, he’s not the sort to turn on his master before he gets paid, is he? Fitch hasn’t paid you
fellows all yet. No man would before the deed is done, right?”

The calm reason in his voice made Dubbin stop smiling.

“Fitch wants to be away from here, free forever,” Drum went on. “That’s why he just sent your friend down to see how comfortable the riverbed is before he sends you and me there.”

Dubbin frowned.

“Have a look when he opens the door again if you doubt me,” Drum said with a shrug. “But be quick about it. And be careful, it could be your last look at anything. He doesn’t want to leave witnesses. Would you?”

It was the last thing Drum said that made Dubbin hesitate. Alexandria saw it. He obviously thought slowly and his actions were just as sluggish and easy to read. He scowled and slowly turned toward the door.

That’s when she acted. Alexandria sprang from her seat and rushed at him, head down, butting him with the full force of her body behind it. She was dizzied by the impact. But he was only thrown off balance and staggered a step. It was enough for her. She hooked her foot in back of his ankle and shoved. He staggered again and wheeled around, his hand in the air, aimed at her head. She grabbed that arm, hung on tight and bit down hard as she raised her knee and prayed she had the energy to use it as the boys had taught her. She did. He grunted and bent double. The pistol he held went skittering across the floor. She dropped down and followed it, scrabbling across the slippery floor on her knees as the slower-moving man turned and headed for her again, one hand on his offended groin, the other
balled into a fist.

She was on her knees, his pistol in her two hands, as he approached. She raised the weapon, stared at his snarl, and used both hands to fire.

Then she closed her eyes.

The sound was deafening. Her hands felt searing heat and stung from the force of the firing. She dropped the weapon, and her gaze, and waited for his heavy hand to fall on her. It didn’t, so she dared to look up. What there was left of his face looked surprised, before he stumbled back and off the platform. She heard the splash and was astonished. She was glad and horrified, sick to her stomach as she turned, unbelieving, to share the revelation with Drum.

He was half out of his chair. Dragged there, head back, with Fitch’s elbow locked around his neck and his pistol to his ear.

“Nicely done,” Fitch panted. He must have struggled with Drum, because he was still breathing hard. “I congratulate you, Miss Gascoyne. Good shot, and a lucky chance. The fool had his pistol primed; I doubt you could have fired it if he had not. Now throw Dubbin’s weapon after him or I’ll return the compliment to his lordship, and then come for you. The pistol can only fire once. But I saw you fighting like the alley cat you are and don’t want you holding anything that can be used as any kind of weapon. My pistol’s a splendid over and under, by the way. I have two shots, more than enough to deal with the two of you if you disobey. Throw it away.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Drum told her carefully. “Take it and leave, Ally. He’ll kill me anyway. You have no chance at all if you obey him. Try for the door
he just left. He didn’t have time to lock it again. You might get away now, if you go. Go!” he said before Fitch tightened his arm, cutting off his breath.

“Throw it now!” Fitch panted. “I won’t wait.”

“Don’t,” Drum gasped, his eyes on her.

She looked into the steady gaze of those strangely beautiful azure eyes of his and realized she couldn’t live with herself if she was the reason their brilliance had been extinguished. And since she doubted she’d live much longer than that anyway, because a discharged pistol was a paltry weapon, and life was a paltry thing without Drum, there really was no decision to make. She said that. Or at least she might have. She really didn’t know what she was thinking or saying anymore.

But she threw the pistol after Dubbin and heard it splash.

“Very good,” Fitch said, releasing his hold on Drum’s neck, letting him drop to his seat again, where he sat laboring for breath. “In many ways. You saved me the trouble of paying Dubbin, my dear. But you paid him in the same coin. The earl was right. I was returning from seeing to Hake when I heard what was said to Dubbin. I covered Hake’s lantern and slipped in slyly. I never trusted the earl. Clever of me. What fools they were. The one, for trusting me, the other for underestimating you. How hard it is to hire good help these days! But then, I wasn’t after good help, precisely. Only muscle and bone, and greed. There’s plenty of that about! Now, which of you first, I wonder?” he asked thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry, Miss Gascoyne,” he said after a pause. “I believe it must be you, because I do want his lordship
to know what it feels like to be helpless as something he admires perishes. That’s the whole point of this exercise, you see.”

“A schoolmaster to the end,” Drum said, nodding.

“I will live on to teach the greatness of the emperor,” Fitch said through tight lips. “You’ll teach the fish how to dine on your lying tongue. No,” he said, obviously thinking deeply, “I must deny them that pleasure. No water for you. The river door doesn’t go all the way down, the riverbed is uneven, so the tide cleanses this place every day. Dubbin will join Hake soon—but don’t leap into the water thinking you can find your way out through it,” he cautioned Alexandria, “because you’d have to go all the way to the riverbed to find that exit, and when and if you did, you’ll doubtless be in Dubbin’s position too.

“I’ll have to leave you two here on the platform, where no one will ever find you.” Fitch spoke as though to himself now. “You’ll remain here until you fall to bones. The staircases are sealed, as is the water door. I’ll seal the door I leave by too. That’s it. That’s perfect. There are dozens of abandoned warehouses and old homes along this row, all decaying and covered with moss. You two will simply disappear.”

He paused. Then smiled. “No, I lie. Perhaps they’ll find you in a generation, when the district is rebuilt. They’re always rebuilding London. But as for now? When you don’t turn up, I think they’ll assume you eloped with Miss Gascoyne and fled for the Continent, my lord. Yes. It makes sense, if they believe her fiction of respectability. After all, if you lust for her—and you do, I’ve seen your eyes—you can’t take her under your protection. Not while she pretends to be virtuous. No,
you’d have to marry her, and where else could you live with such an inferior being? It will break your father’s heart, of course, but that’s only fair too. You broke mine.”

Useless to protest, Alexandria thought dully. Her only hope was that Drum, hearing the madman say he obviously lusted for her, would know the lie for what it was and discount the rest too.

“Now then,” Fitch said briskly, “time’s run out. I believe you’re first after all, my lord. I’ve changed my mind. I need you and your trickery out of the way. And perhaps thinking of how I might revenge myself on Miss Gascoyne after you’re gone will be just as painful to you as seeing her die. That’s a thought too, there’s many interesting things I can do before I dispose of her. So, now, say a prayer, my lord, and bow your head. Quickly, because it will be quick. Which is far more humane than the way you served our emperor.”

Drum bowed his head. Fitch took a few steps back. Alexandria tensed, preparing herself to run at him and to her death if need be.

Before she could move, Drum did. He leapt up and swung around, his elbow crashing into Fitch’s face, his other hand grasping Fitch’s wrist and forcing it up high. He was much taller than Fitch, because he was on both feet—without his cast. Alexandria was as taken by surprise and shocked as Fitch was. But Fitch recovered faster.

Drum was younger and taller, but Fitch was heavier, and empowered by insanity. They grappled. Drum kept forcing the hand with the pistol toward the ceiling as he struggled with the maddened man. Fitch grimaced and kicked out again and again, trying for Drum’s leg.
Drum kept his grip on Fitch’s arm, forcing it back, trying to dance out of reach of Fitch’s flailing legs. They fought in deadly earnest, the ragged sounds of their breathing the only sounds they made. Alexandria moved forward and back again, seeing an opportunity to leap in, losing it a second later. The pistol kept rising and falling and wavering.

Fitch grimaced, angled his lower body back, and swung out with his leg. His boot connected squarely with Drum’s leg. Drum loosed his grip on Fitch’s arm and staggered back a step. Fitch wore a rictus grin as he brought his pistol forward. Drum’s fist smashed into his face, sending him reeling back into the shadows. Drum followed him.