Otherwise Engaged (24 page)

E
xplain,” Amity said.

Benedict’s cool, controlled energy was contagious. A moment ago she had been drowsy and more than ready to slip into sleep. But now she was wide awake and very curious.

She got up from the bed and tugged the blanket around her shoulders. She could feel the chill of the floorboards through her stockings but she ignored the sensation.

“Whoever set that trap for us today is skilled in the rather arcane art of explosive devices,” Benedict said. He sat down at the table and opened the small notebook. “Do you remember what Charlotte Warwick said about her son’s personal inclinations?”

“She described him as having an artistic temperament and said that he had seemed to find his métier in photography.”

“Precisely. She gave us no indication that he was ever interested in engineering or scientific matters. It is highly unlikely that he would know how to construct a complicated mechanism for an explosive
device, let alone put it together at the scene of the murder without blowing himself up in the process.”

“But Mrs. Dunning’s throat was cut with a sharp blade. She died just like Dr. Norcott and those poor brides.”

“Everyone who has been following the news of the crimes in the press—that would be most of London—knows how the killer committed the murders. It would be no great trick to duplicate the technique.”

Amity shuddered. “Assuming one didn’t mind the blood.”

“Assuming that,” Benedict said. He returned to his notes.

Amity watched him.

“Do you think someone other than Virgil Warwick murdered Dr. Norcott as well?” she asked after a moment or two.

“No. I can’t be certain, but that murder has some twisted logic behind it.”

“Yes, I know. You said that it made sense that Warwick got rid of the one man who knew how dangerous he was. He was afraid that Norcott might go to the police.”

“Right. But the killer also took Norcott’s medical satchel. That feels like something Virgil would do. However, even if he did know about his half sister and the fact that Mrs. Dunning was blackmailing his mother, it is very difficult to believe that he learned how to wire that explosive device and set it to go off when someone stepped on the carpet. That requires training and experience.”

“But who else would want to murder Mrs. Dunning?” Amity asked.

Benedict put down the pencil and sat back in his chair. The flames were reflected in his eyes. “The same person who tried to murder me on St. Clare and then arranged to make you the target of a crazed
killer. When those plans failed, that individual went to Hawthorne Hall and murdered Mrs. Dunning because she knew too much about the Warwicks’ personal history.”

Amity tightened her grip on the quilt. “You’re saying Virgil Warwick is involved with the plot to steal Foxcroft’s notebook? But he seems far too unstable to be a successful spy.”

“I agree,” Benedict said patiently. “And I don’t think that he is the spy. But I believe that he is somehow connected to the person who took the Foxcroft notebook.”

“The person who tried to murder you on St. Clare.”

“Yes. That person knew Virgil Warwick well enough to try to use him the way one would a weapon. She aimed him at you but things did not go as planned.”

“She?”

“I think we are looking for a woman, after all.”

“Dear heaven.” Amity tried to stitch the pieces together in her head. “If you’re right when you say that she deliberately set Warwick on me, that means she knows what kind of monster he is and how to play to his obsession. Who except Mrs. Dunning and Virgil’s mother would know that?”

“The sister who was raised in an orphanage,” Benedict said very softly.

Amity absorbed that logic. “Yes, of course, the sister.”

“We will take another look at the guest list from the Channing ball when we return to London,” Benedict said. “But there is only one woman on it who is the right age to have been fathered by Warwick and who also possesses a motive for sending a killer after you.”

Amity took deep breath. “Lady Penhurst?”

“I think so.”

“But why would she want me dead?”

Benedict looked at her. “You are the first woman in whom I have displayed any serious interest since I ended my association with Leona two years ago.”

“Oh, dear,” Amity said. “Of course. A woman scorned.”

W
elcome home, Miss Doncaster.” Mrs. Houston held the door wide. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Stanbridge. I must tell you that Mrs. Marsden was quite alarmed when you did not return on the train last night. Inspector Logan made inquiries of the police in the village and was told there had been reports of a fire at Hawthorne Hall and that no one had seen either of you afterward.”

“You got my telegram this morning?” Benedict said.

“Yes, indeed, and it arrived none too soon. Mrs. Marsden and Inspector Logan were preparing to set out for the village.”

Rapid footsteps sounded in the hall. Penny appeared. Relief blazed in her face. Logan was directly behind her.

“Amity,”
Penny said. She rushed forward. “Oh, thank heavens.”

Amity hugged her. “It’s all right, Penny. We’re fine. I’m so sorry you were concerned. There was no way to send word until shortly after dawn when we found a farmer who drove us into the village.”

Penny stepped back. “I understand. It’s just that I’ve been so worried. The morning papers carried the news of the fire at the Hall. I knew you were all right because we got your telegram very early, but you were not at all explicit about what had occurred.”

Logan looked at Benedict. “What the devil did happen?”

“It’s a long story,” Benedict said.

Mrs. Houston smiled. “I’ll just go and put the kettle on.”

Sometime later Benedict concluded his tale. Amity could feel the tension in the atmosphere. Logan looked grim.

“From the sound of things, it is going to be next to impossible to prove anything against Lady Penhurst,” he said.

“We must leave her to Uncle Cornelius,” Benedict said. “He will deal with her. Meanwhile, none of this changes the situation with regard to Virgil Warwick. He must be found and stopped before he kills again.”

“I agree.” Logan got to his feet and went to stand at the window. “He is out there, somewhere. He cannot remain in hiding forever. We will find him.”

Amity cleared her throat. “If I might make a suggestion?”

They all looked at her. But it was Benedict who understood before everyone else.

“No,” he said.

“What is it?” Logan asked.

“Lady Penhurst may have tried to use her brother as if he were a weapon, but I doubt that she can control him now that he has been launched in my direction,” Amity said. “I am his target. He is an obsessed man. Why not set a trap?”

Penny’s eyes widened in alarm. “With you as bait?”

“Yes, exactly,” Amity said. “I could leave the house by myself as if I was going shopping. The police could follow me at some distance—”

“No,” Benedict said again.

“No,” Penny said.

“Absolutely not,” Logan said.

Amity sighed. “I don’t understand why you are all so set against the idea.”

Benedict fixed her with a stern look. “Give it some thought. I’m sure the answer will come to you.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Amity said. “It seemed a perfectly good plan to me.”

“Fortunately, for my own peace of mind, I have a better one,” Benedict said.

Y
ou may be right about Lady Penhurst,” Cornelius said. He propped his legs on a hassock and toyed with his unlit pipe. “But she has vanished. I sent young Draper, my secretary, around to her address this morning after you told me what had transpired at Hawthorne Hall. Lord Penhurst has no idea where his wife is at the moment. The household staff seems to believe that she is on a trip to Scotland.”

Amity looked at Benedict, who was sprawled in a chair near the window. He raised his brows.

“There appears to be a lot of people traveling to Scotland this summer,” he said.

“Yes, indeed.” Amity drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “First you were told that Virgil Warwick was on his way to a hunting lodge there and now we learn that his sister may be headed to the same destination.”

“And we mustn’t forget that Dr. Norcott possessed a train ticket to
Scotland,” Benedict said. “Although in his case it was the truth. Evidently he actually did plan to seek safety there.”

“Yes,” Amity said.

She had been quite pleased when Benedict had suggested that she accompany him to the home of his uncle. It was an indication that not only did he trust her—she knew that much already—but he had come to consider her an equal partner in the case.

For his part, Cornelius Stanbridge appeared much improved. He still wore a small bandage, but he insisted that he had recovered from the blow to his head.

Benedict got to his feet. Amity watched him walk to the window. She could sense the restless energy driving him.

“I very much doubt that either Warwick or Leona is in Scotland,” he said.

Cornelius grunted. “I have asked young Draper to look into Lady Penhurst’s past.”

Benedict’s jaw flexed. “Leona is Virgil Warwick’s sister and she is in the pay of the Russians. It is the only answer that explains the twists and turns in this case.”

“I believe you are correct.” Cornelius tapped the stem of his pipe against the arm of his chair. “As the wife of Lord Penhurst, she is certainly in an excellent position to play the part of an espionage agent. Penhurst may be going senile but he is still extremely well connected. He knows everyone and, at least until quite recently, he enjoyed the trust of a number of high-ranking men in government. There is no telling how many secrets he has been privy to over the years.”

“And no telling how many he has unwittingly divulged to Lady Penhurst,” Amity said.

“Indeed.” Cornelius squinted a little. “I think you both should take a look at the note that I received shortly before you arrived here
today. I was about to ask you to call on me when I discovered you on my doorstep.”

Benedict turned around, eyes darkening with understanding. “You heard from the thief?”

“Yes,” Cornelius said. “And the timing of the note suggests that the thief is aware that you and Miss Doncaster survived the explosion at Hawthorne Hall. It arrived after you returned to London unharmed. However, it appears the spy is now extremely anxious to complete the transaction.” Cornelius gestured with the pipe stem. “Go on, take a look and see for yourselves. I’d like your opinions. The price for the return of the notebook is rather interesting.”

Amity jumped to her feet and hurried toward the desk. Benedict took two long strides from the window and joined her.

He read the message aloud, his voice increasingly dark with each word.

The transaction will occur tomorrow evening at the Ottershaw ball. Miss Doncaster will bring the Rose Necklace as payment for the notebook. She will wear a black domino with the enclosed mask. She will be contacted at the ball and given final instructions for the exchange.

“Son of a bitch,” Benedict said. “There can be no doubt now. Leona sent this.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Cornelius said. “I cannot imagine anyone else insisting on a specific necklace as payment for the notebook.”

Amity looked at him, bewildered. “But this makes no sense. She must realize that demanding the Stanbridge family necklace is a very risky venture. It is bound to bring suspicion down on her head. Too
many people know that she was offended when Benedict did not ask her to marry him.”

“I think that Lady Penhurst has allowed her desire for revenge to overcome her common sense,” Cornelius said.

“I wonder if the Russians have begun to realize that their agent has allowed her personal desire for vengeance to override common sense,” Benedict said.

Amity smoothed the letter with one hand. “Charlotte Warwick told us that Mrs. Dunning claimed to have observed evidence of mental instability in Virgil’s sister. Perhaps our engagement has completely unhinged her.”

Benedict started to pace the study. “So it seems.”

Amity looked at Cornelius. “Where is the mask?”

Cornelius pointed the pipe stem at a box on the desk. “In there.”

Amity lifted the lid and set it aside. She studied the beautiful mask. It was elegantly made and lavishly trimmed with feathers and small glass jewels that caught the light. It was designed to conceal the upper portion of the face. And it was crimson red.

“Not very subtle, is she?” Amity said. “She wants me to go as a Scarlet Woman.”

Benedict stopped his pacing and gave the mask a hard look. “You aren’t going to that damned ball.”

Amity noticed that Cornelius did not attempt to interfere. Instead, he waited to see how she would respond.

“Of course I am going to the ball,” she said. “Leona will know if you try to bring another woman in my place. Not that I would allow you to take any other female.”

“If she wants to make the trade she can damn well make it on our terms,” Benedict said.

Cornelius coughed a little. “We need to unmask Lady Penhurst. Literally, it appears.”

“Your uncle is right,” Amity said. “We must catch her. This is our best chance to expose her as a spy.”

Cornelius grunted. “Miss Doncaster is correct in terms of strategy. As I have mentioned, in this sort of ransom situation, the moment of the exchange is the time when the thief is most vulnerable.”

“I realize that the necklace is probably quite valuable and that it has great meaning and significance to your family, Benedict,” Amity began. “But if we are careful we can protect it.”

“I don’t give a damn about the necklace.” Benedict’s eyes tightened at the corners. “That mask is an insult to you.”

“Only if I choose to take it that way,” Amity said. “I prefer to see it as part of the costume that I will wear in a play. Really, sir, there is no need for agitation and anxiety. What can possibly go wrong in the middle of a crowded ballroom?”

“Let me count the ways,” Benedict said.

“Benedict, surely you can see this is our best chance, not only to catch Lady Penhurst but to find out where her brother is hiding. If anyone can lead us to Virgil Warwick, it is most likely his sister.”

Benedict looked grim.

“We need a plan,” he said at last.

Amity smiled. “Well, then, come up with one.”

Cornelius snorted. “She’s right, Ben. You’re the one who has a talent for planning for various and assorted disasters.”