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Authors: Amanda Quick

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BOOK: Late for the Wedding
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“Rubbish.” She went to stand directly in front of him. “That is quite enough of that sort of talk, Tobias. I will not have you blaming yourself because you did not solve the case immediately. It sounds as if no one even realized that people were being murdered until you put the pieces of the puzzle together. Obviously you identified an extremely clever killer who would no doubt have continued to murder indefinitely if you had not stopped him.”

Tobias clenched his hand very fiercely around the ring and said nothing.

“Did this man commit murder merely for the sport of it?” she asked. “Or did he have some crazed motive?”

“There is no doubt but that he did it, in part, for the money,” Tobias said. “He took fees for each of the deaths. The transactions were all neatly recorded in the journal of accounts, complete with the dates of the deeds and the amounts he had received. He was quite careful to protect his clients. Their names were not written down. Evidently they, in turn, never knew the identity of the man they had hired to do cold-blooded murder.”

“A professional murderer for hire,” she whispered. “What a truly appalling way to make a living. You said this man was a gentleman?”

“Indeed. He possessed excellent manners, an eye for fashion, and a good deal of charm. He was well-liked by both men and women. He never lacked for invitations. Belonged to two or three clubs. In short, he moved freely in Society.” Tobias looked at the little death's-head. “That was his hunting ground, you see.”


Hunting ground.
What an unpleasant turn of phrase.”

“He found his clients and his victims in the polite world. He had nothing but disdain for ordinary footpads, thieves, and murderers. He did not consider himself a common criminal.”

“Yes, well, as we have discovered, sir, there are any number of criminals born into respectable circles.” She paused, concerned more than ever by his haunted mood. The events of that case three years ago had obviously been very personal for him. Her intuition flared. “Tobias, were you acquainted with this person before you learned that he murdered people for money? Did you consider him a friend?”

“There was a time when I would have trusted Zachary Elland with my life. In fact, there were occasions when I did precisely that.”

The stark admission told her everything she needed to know.

“I am so sorry.” She touched his shoulder. “How terrible it must have been for you to discover the truth.”

“It was our bloody
friendship
that kept me from seeing the truth for so long.” The hand resting on his thigh tightened in a gesture of self-disgust. “He counted on that connection. He used it in the vicious game he played with me. He even pretended to help me investigate the killings.”

“Tobias, you must not talk as if you failed. You solved the case.”

He paid no attention to her. Instead, he gazed out over the moonlit woods beyond the gardens. “Crackenburne introduced us. He had been watching Zachary at the gaming tables because he knew that we needed someone skilled at cards for a particular investigation. He also sensed that Elland had the sort of temperament that would make him useful as a spy. Zachary enjoyed taking risks.”

“I see.” She kept her hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some wordless comfort. “I still do not understand why all this concerns you so intimately, Tobias.”

“I regret to say that I may have been the one who was responsible for setting him on the path that led him to become a murderer for hire.”

“Sir, that is outrageous.” Shocked, she gripped his shoulder very tightly. “You cannot possibly mean that you are to blame for the fact that your friend became a killer. That is utter nonsense.”

“I only wish that were true. But the fact of the matter is, the first entries in his journal were dated shortly after he and I began to work together.”

“Tell me what made you conclude that you had a hand in turning him into a killer.”

“I was his mentor. I taught him his craft as a spy. I was the one who gave him his assignments.” Tobias exhaled deeply. “He certainly had an aptitude for the work.”

“Go on.”

“On his second assignment, there was an incident. I should have paid more heed.”

“Describe this incident,” she said crisply.

“I had set him to follow a man we suspected of having a direct link to a ring of traitors. According to Zachary, his quarry spotted him and pulled out a knife, intending to murder him. Zachary told me later that he was forced to defend himself. He killed the man and got rid of the body in the river. At the time there was no reason to question his version of events.”

“Pray continue.”

“Zachary acquitted himself well in that investigation and was eager for more of the same sort of work,” Tobias said. “Crackenburne’s highly placed friends in the government were extremely pleased. The death of the traitor certainly did not bother them. I was told to give Elland other tasks.”

“Were there more such deaths?”

“One more that I was aware of. Again, Crackenburne’s friends in the government agreed that it was a clear case of self-defense, and since the man who died was a killer himself, no one shed any tears. There may have been two other such incidents. I will never know for certain. Zachary did not admit to them, and no one wished to conduct an investigation.”

“Because the deaths were convenient for the government?”

“Not only that, they resulted in the acquisition of vital French military and shipping intelligence.” Tobias hesitated. “I have often wondered if Zachary acquired a taste for the business of murder during that time when he served as a spy.”

“But what happened after Napoleon was defeated the first time?”

“Zachary went back to the gaming tables. He seemed to be doing rather well for himself. Our paths separated. We met on occasion in the clubs, but for the most part we saw little of each other.”

“Is that when you first heard rumors of mysterious deaths in the polite world?”

“Yes, I suppose so. But I must admit that the occasional demise of an elderly lord or a rich widow did not arouse curiosity or interest in me or anyone else. I was busy with my career as a man of business and raising Anthony. There was little time to spare for idle speculation. Then Napoleon escaped from Elba and we were once again at war.”

“And Crackenburne summoned you back to your other profession,” she said.

“He also summoned Zachary. But this time Crackenburne did not ask me to give Elland his instructions. Elland and I were colleagues of a sort and we exchanged information, but we did not work together.”

“When did you become suspicious of him?”

“In the months following the victory at Waterloo, the series of suicides and accidents I mentioned occurred in a fairly short span of time. At that point I was on my way to establishing my new career as a private-inquiry agent. I began to notice some of the similar details of the deaths, as I told you.”

“And you eventually tracked down Zachary Elland,” she concluded.

“Yes. In the course of the investigation I showed the death's-head rings to Crackenburne. He remembered old rumors of a professional murderer who had once used the same signature. They called him the Memento-Mori Man. It was said that no one who met him and learned his true identity ever lived to tell the tale. Elland obviously had heard the stories and decided to pattern himself on a legend.”

“Tobias, listen to me. Elland’s decision to become a professional murderer had nothing whatsoever to do with the work he did for you.”

“There was a note in the safe where I discovered the rings and the journal. It was addressed to me. In it Zachary said that if I found the letter it meant that I had won. He congratulated me as though I were the victor in a chess match.”

“Such villainy is almost incomprehensible.”

“In the note he informed me that I was a worthy opponent. The last line of the letter read,
It is the thrill of the hunt that I will miss the most.

“He was truly a monster.”

“I must tell you,” Tobias said in a low voice, “there are times when I can comprehend his passion for the hunt all too well.”

“Tobias.”

“There is a very intense sensation that comes over me when I know that I have picked up the scent of the quarry. There is no denying that there is a certain dark thrill attached to the business.” He looked at her across the candle. In the light of flaring flame, his eyes glowed like those of some great beast of the night. “Elland once told me that he thought the two of us had a great deal in common. He may have been right.”

“Stop it at once, Tobias.” She squeezed his arm very fiercely. “Do not dare to suggest that you and Elland were alike in any way. To take satisfaction in the hunt is one thing. It is your nature to seek answers and to see that justice is done. It is quite another matter altogether to take pleasure in death. We both know that you could never do that.”

“Sometimes late at night, I have wondered if the difference between Elland and myself is only a matter of degree.”

“Damnation, Tobias, I will not abide such foolish talk. Do you hear me, sir?”

He smiled humorlessly. “Yes, Mrs. Lake, I hear you.”

“I never met your old acquaintance, but I can assure you that you and Zachary Elland are as different as night and day.”

“Are you quite certain of that, madam?” he asked much too softly.

“I am absolutely positive of that fact. My intuition, as you well know, is extremely keen.” She wanted to shake him. “You are no killer, Tobias March.”

Tobias did not say a word, but his gaze was disconcertingly steady. Belatedly, she thought about their last case, the one she had privately titled the Affair of the Mad Mesmerist in her journal.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, there may have been one or two unfortunate incidents along the way over the years, but they were accidents, as it were.”

“Accidents,” Tobias repeated neutrally.

“No,
not
accidents,” she corrected instantly. “Desperate acts of great bravery required to save the lives of others such as myself. Most definitely not cold-blooded murder. There is a vast difference, Tobias.” She drew a breath. “Now, then, enough of that subject. Tell me where Aspasia Gray fits into this affair.”

“Aspasia?” He frowned. “Did I not explain?”

“No, sir, you did not.”

“She was Zachary’s lover.”

“Elland’s lover. I see. That explains a few things, I suppose.”

“They met in the spring before Waterloo. Aspasia conceived a great passion for Elland, and he appeared equally enthralled by her. They made plans to wed. When Zachary returned to his work as a spy that summer, he used Aspasia’s entrée in Society to obtain access to certain wealthy people. We believe that in addition to using the introductions to gather intelligence, he also took advantage of those opportunities to acquire some of his private clients.”

“Dear heaven.”

“One evening Aspasia stumbled onto the truth about how Elland made his living. In her horror, she fled from him. I have often wondered if the real reason he put the pistol to his head that night was not because I was closing in on him but because he had lost the woman he loved.”

“I find it rather difficult to believe that a killer would have such a romantic sensibility,” she muttered.

“The odd thing is that, in his own way, Elland’s nature was both dramatic and romantic. He reminded me of an artist or poet who lusts after any experience that will provide him with the highest peaks of emotion and sensation.”

“Without regard to the price he must pay?”

“Elland never counted the cost. He lived for the next thrill.”

“What did Aspasia do after she learned he had taken his own life?”

“She was utterly distraught. It is the only time I have ever seen her in such a state. Elland was the only man she had ever truly loved, and she was inconsolable. It was not just the fact that he had taken his own life that wounded her so deeply.”

“It was that she had loved him and not seen the truth of his nature?”

“Yes. Aspasia is a woman of the world, as I’m sure you have guessed. She considered herself too intelligent and too strong-minded to be deceived in matters of love. Zachary’s deception shook her to the core.”

She told herself that she ought to feel some sympathy for Aspasia, but every time she thought about how she had discovered the other woman with her arms around Tobias’s neck, she found it impossible to summon up much pity.

Nevertheless, she had to admit, learning that one’s lover was a professional killer who took such a degree of satisfaction in his work that he marked it with his personal signature was enough to give any woman, even Cleopatra, a bad case of nerves.

“I collect that you feel a sense of obligation in all this,” she said. “And Mrs. Gray is no doubt playing on that sensibility. Does she blame you for starting Elland down the path that led to his personal destruction?”

“She did not say as much aloud, but, yes, I suspect she does.”

“Rubbish,” she said again, very harshly this time. “Absolute rubbish.”

“I think she also feels a measure of guilt, because she was the one who helped him achieve the connections in Society that led to certain murders.”

Lavinia sighed. “What a sad tale.”

He opened his hand once more so that the candlelight flared on the small skull and crossbones. “And now it would seem that someone is determined to retell it.”

“Surely you do not believe that Zachary Elland has come back from the grave to resume his career?”

“No, of course not. I myself found Elland’s body, and I saw him buried. But this new killer sent a ring such as this to Aspasia, and I am quite certain that he intended for me to find this one tonight.”

“An old acquaintance announcing that he is back in town?”

“So it would seem. The discovery of the ring on her doorstep this morning threw Aspasia into a panic. That is why she followed us here.”

“Hmm.”

Tobias frowned. “What is it?”

“I must tell you, sir, that Aspasia did not appear to be in a
panic
tonight.”

His mouth twisted wryly. “She is hardly the type to succumb to a fit of the vapors. But I know her better than you do, and you may believe me when I tell you that her nerves were in a very rattled state tonight.”

BOOK: Late for the Wedding
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