The Arnifour Affair (22 page)

Mademoiselle Rendell had her back to us as we stepped out, but Michael and the other boy spotted us at once. “Oh shite,” Michael said.

Mademoiselle Rendell spun around, and as her eyes landed on us she sagged as though suddenly void of air. “Dammit to 'ell,” she lamented. “I knew gettin' this pair were a mistake.”

“A mistake?!” Colin said with mock offense. “I've been called many things in my life, but never a mistake.”

“I'd be 'appy ta call ya worse.”

“I'd rather hear from the little one.” He turned his attentions to the long-haired boy cowering at Michael's side. “And what do they call you when you're not in a dress?”

“Drew, sir,” he answered.

“Drew.” Colin gave a tight smile. “I think it's time you let him go, Michael, or I'll separate your arm from your shoulder.” Wisely, the older boy did so at once. “Come over here, Drew.”

“I ought not, sir.”

“It's all right. Your brother and . . .” He paused.

“. . . Me mum, sir,” the boy piped up, causing my heart to sink.

“Yes.” Colin spoke slowly, his own distaste evident. “Your mum. They'll not harm you. You've nothing to fear from them anymore. This game has come to an end.”

“It weren't so bad. . . .”

“Well, perhaps you'd prefer to be a boy. Go to school. Learn your disciplines.”

Drew glanced from Michael to Mademoiselle Rendell before turning back to us. He nodded, but said nothing.

“Then you shall have that.”

Drew winced as he stepped away from his brother, clearly expecting a blow that would not come. His scrawny limbs were streaked with the same filth caked on his bare feet, as black as the sludge between the cobbles in the street. I doubted he'd ever had a haircut since that was a part of his ruse, and could tell by the knots and tangles peppered throughout that some time had passed since a brush had been worked through it. The timid voice and abject politeness was a glaring dichotomy to what stood before us, yet to be saleable, he had to be controlled. This pair had done their job appallingly well.

Colin put his hands on the boy's shoulders and turned him back around to face his mother and brother. “You've done your damage to this child for the last time, as you'll find it impossible to do so from prison. By the time they let you out . . . ,” he flicked his eyes to Mademoiselle Rendell, “. . . the only thing anyone will pay you for is to bugger off. And as for you . . .” He glared at Michael. “You'll likely end up rather like your little brother here, except that the blokes you'll be spending your time with won't pay you for your favors.”

“Ya can't threaten us,” Mademoiselle Rendell spat back, pulling herself to her full height.

“It is not a threat,” Colin answered. “I give you my word.”

“Yer word. What da you know? Livin' in yer fancy flat with yer lady waitin' on ya and ridin' round in carriages passin' judgment. You ain't got no idea. No idea at all.”

“You don't own hard luck
or
bad choices,” I sallied back at her. “But your failure to rise above them belongs to you.”

“Ah . . . piss off,” she spat, and before I knew it she launched herself at me, gripping me by the hair. I stumbled backwards with the sudden force of her weight and landed on my backside, her coiled fists flailing at my head with such determination that all I could do was try to ward off her blows until, just as quickly as it had begun, her siege ended.

She let out a pitiful shriek as she was unceremoniously wrenched off me, seeming to levitate into the air by her armpits, her legs and arms batting uselessly as they failed to make contact with anything. I peered up and saw Colin behind her, solid, impermeable, and formidable. He heaved her to the side like a sack of grain into a crumpled heap with nary a grunt, turning to face her with his hands stabbed against his hips. “Next time,” he growled, “I will remove you by the throat!”

“You mustn't, sir,” Drew spoke up. “She's just me mum.”

“And I could scarcely be sorrier for that,” he answered. “You tried to play us for fools,” he turned on Michael with a sneer, “acting the part of the loving brother when all along you were nothing more than the snake Mr. Pruitt kept insisting you were. Fifteen years old and without a shred of decency. How proud you must be.”

The young man scowled with the ferocity of the feral thing he was. “You got nothin' ta say ta me!” he growled back. “All full a yerself when you thought you was helpin' out the little urchin boy. I think you're just pissed 'cause I almost got one over on ya.” He snickered. “If that's your decency then you can shove it up your arse.”

I sucked in an infuriated breath to blast the pompous smirk off his face when I felt Colin's hand grip my arm and heard him say, “Don't. Just go fetch us a couple of bobbies.” I did as he suggested, knowing he was right; there was nothing I could say that was going to make a whit of difference to Michael and my protestations were only likely to confirm his point.

In the blink of an eye I returned with a cluster of policemen. We gave a hasty report, based more on Colin's name than any real substance, but promised a trip to the Yard for a more formal debriefing later. Colin was adamant that we couldn't go with them just then as he was about to solve the Arnifour murders. The bobbies stared at him with a mixture of skepticism and alarm, but not one of them called him on it.

As we made our way off the pier I felt relieved to be getting away from there. It was a pitiful case, but even so, I could not bring myself to turn back for one last look as the officers led Mademoiselle Rendell, Michael, and little Drew away.

CHAPTER 32

J
ust over an hour later we were climbing down from a hansom cab onto the cobbled driveway at the Arnifour estate.

As with every visit before, Mrs. O'Keefe only grudgingly allowed us entry, making no effort to hide her disdain at our continual insistence on showing up with neither an appointment nor an invitation nor, as was now the case, even a reason for being there. I glanced at her more closely than I'd meant to as I slid past her, wondering if Kaylin might truly be her daughter and what it would be like to keep such a secret the whole of one's life. My thoughts earned me nothing more than a ferocious glower from her. Nevertheless, her rabid anger suddenly made some sense and I couldn't help the trifling pity that gnawed at me as she took us to the same study as always before curtly announcing that we'd be joined by Lady Arnifour at her leisure. It left me wondering if that meant within the hour, the day, or the week.

We settled in to wait the indeterminate time and just as Mrs. O'Keefe was about to take her leave Colin asked whether Victor might be available to join us for a few minutes. She appeared to ruminate on the idea quite thoroughly before finally consenting to let him know we were there. Even so, she slammed the doors with a great deal more bravado than necessary as she left us on our own.

I turned back to Colin to seek his thoughts on Mrs. O'Keefe and what Eldon had told us only to find a deep furrow creasing his brow. “Are you all right?” I asked quietly. “You're going to need to be on your best behavior if we're to have any success here. After all, we're not working for them any longer. . . .”

Inexplicably, the furrow in his brow deepened. “I know that,” he said. “You needn't worry. I'll behave.”

I pretended to chuckle but still feared that his impatience would get the best of him and bring our impromptu visit to a frustrating and permanent conclusion. I was on the verge of pressing the point against my better judgment when Victor Heffernan suddenly presented himself, barreling into the room with his usual good cheer. “It's good ta see ya both,” he said with genuine appreciation.

“And you as well.” Colin smiled and shook his hand. “It's kind of you to meet with us despite our appalling lack of notice.”

“I think ya know I'm not one ta stand on ceremony.” He sat down by the fireplace looking more fragile than ever. “I'm hopin' you've come to straighten things out for Nathaniel. He keeps threatenin' to stow away to America. I don't know what I'd do without him. That boy's been the best part of my whole life.” He pinned his gaze on the dancing flames in the fireplace and yet I could see his eyes were glassy. It looked like he hadn't slept in days and I suspected that was more than likely true.

“I have every intention of proving your son's innocence,” Colin said, sitting down opposite Victor, “even though he hasn't made that easy. His unwillingness to trust me has hampered my investigation considerably.”

“I know. He's as stubborn as his mother was—”

Colin held a hand up, giving Victor a sly smile. “Nathaniel may have slowed me, but he will not stop me. Justice is a belle I
like
to court. And as I've said repeatedly, I believe Nathaniel is innocent. I'll stake my reputation on it.”

“Then do share.” Lady Arnifour stood just inside the doorway, her face rigid with displeasure. “Just who is it you've come to wield your peerless reputation against?”

“Who indeed?” He smiled easily as he stood up. “Would you think any less of me if I demurred my answer for a moment?”

“Don't be tiresome, Mr. Pendragon. I believe your business with us was concluded on your last visit.”

“And so it was.” He held his smile. “But this visit is solely on me. Please . . . ,” he gestured to a chair, “. . . indulge me.”

I thought her on the verge of expelling us, but after she threw a quick glance at Victor's glum face she heaved a heavy sigh and perched herself on the edge of the proffered seat. “I must insist you keep this exercise brief.”

“Exercise?” His smile wavered as he cast a quick glance at me. “What an unorthodox way to describe the solving of two murders.”

“Do get on with it,” she sniffed.

“As you wish . . .” He slowly ambled around behind Lady Arnifour's chair. “So what I'd like to know is if you ever told Elsbeth about Desiree Helgman?”

Lady Arnifour turned her head so quickly that it sent her great stout wig in a slightly discordant direction.
“I have no idea what you're talking about!”
She bolted up, affecting a look of deep offense even as she sent Victor a withering sideways glance.

“Come now. . . .” Colin moved behind her again, forcing her to twist around. “There's no need to be coy any longer,” he whispered before abruptly heading to the fireplace. “Very few secrets are able to be kept forever.”

Lady Arnifour held herself steady, glaring at Colin without the slightest feint, and for a moment I thought she might storm from the room, but after a minute more she slumped back into her chair and heaved a grave sigh. Her fingers shot up to her temples and rubbed at them as though a searing pain had suddenly settled there, and I imagined it had. As I continued to watch her, I realized that she had become just as frail as Victor, that their mutual unraveling was as preordained as their lives together had been. “I have known a lifetime of betrayal, Mr. Pendragon.” She spoke in a voice that quivered with brittleness. “I am sure you are aware of that.”

“I meant no offense,” he answered. “I am only seeking the truth, even if it is a truth you are eager to conceal.”

She did not look up, but remained as she was: hunched over, her fingertips pressing at her temples. “The marriage I endured with my husband . . . ,” she said in a voice that was both flat and void of inflection, “. . . was happy for the span of about two years. Of course that was so long ago I may yet be remembering it with more charity than it deserves. The period after Eldon was born was . . . wonderful. A pristine, young family. And yet I'm sure my husband's wandering eye had already gotten the best of him. I really don't recall. Not until Kaylin. Samuel gave up all attempts at discretion while I was burdened with our second child. I never imagined such a complete and utter end to his interest in me, but that is exactly where I found myself, Mr. Pendragon: with two small children and a husband who came around only when he needed money.”

“You mustn't go on.” Victor leaned forward and touched her elbow tenderly.

“It doesn't matter.” She offered him a game smile, but otherwise made no move to shy away from his intimacy. “You've been my salvation,” she said. “You are a man of inestimable kindness. You see, Mr. Pendragon, Victor only responded to the plaintive tears of a young wife and mother all those years ago. He saved me, not once, but twice.”

“No, no, it was you who saved
me,
” he rushed to correct.

“Hush now,” she scolded with affection. “I'm telling the story.” She looked at us for the first time since withering in her seat and I recognized a liberation in her gaze I had never seen before. “Victor listened to me. He
cared
for me. And some time thereafter, when I realized I'd fallen in love with him, not only did he accept it, but he returned that gift a thousandfold. And I was certain we would be fine. I thought we would be permitted our indiscretion given the depth of my husband's forays, but I was again deceiving myself. Little more than a year and a half after Kaylin was born I discovered I was once more with child. I knew the baby didn't belong to my husband and, of course, so did he. My husband was many things, but he was not a fool.

“We agreed I had to go away, so I created a story about a sister who'd been in a terrible carriage accident while with child, and then left my own small children. I moved into a flat in the city under that name: Desiree Helgman. It was a freeing time though it was also unbearably hard. I couldn't see my children until after Elsbeth was born, not once. I had to placate myself by sending them letters regularly, making up stories of what I was doing and telling them how much I missed them, knowing their nanny would read the letters aloud. . . .” The thinnest smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “But there was also joy in those months. Victor came to see me often and brought me food, and took care of me, and made me feel like a new wife on the brink of a new family all over again. That was wonderful. Me and Victor in that tiny apartment waiting for that child conceived in love to make her presence known . . . ,” she caught her breath, “. . . it was—” But her voice cracked and she dropped her eyes to her hands, which were fidgeting with the twinned ends of her tasseled belt, back and forth, as though they were attempting to weave something.

“But I undid myself when she was born because I could not bear to let the midwife hasten that tiny baby away without taking one peek at her. I'd girded myself to give her up, but I still wanted to see her, to hold her, just once.” She took a deep breath and then pushed on. “I cradled her in my arms and smelled her sweet, soft skin, and stroked the fuzz dusting the top of her head.” She chuckled. “Her perfect, little fingers curled around my own . . .” Her smile dropped and her eyes clouded. “. . . I couldn't let her go. That baby, that child, that perfect little girl . . .” She sagged back into her chair and closed her eyes. Her face was still, but it held a calmness that looked too long removed.

“Shall I finish?” Victor asked softly.

“No.” She gave him a gentle smile. “You've covered for me for long enough.”

She looked back at Colin and me. “I bundled that baby up and brought her home with me to this house,
my
house, the ancestral home of four generations of Langhems, and told everyone my sister had died during the birth. I said there'd been no husband, so I'd done the only charitable thing I knew; I'd brought her home to raise as my own.

“Samuel was outraged.” She glanced at her hands again and I finally understood where her story would inevitably end. “My husband told me that I would either pay him a handsome monthly stipend or he would ruin me. Simple. And that was when my antipathy for him became hatred. What was worst of all was that I had handed him the tool of my destruction myself. That baby . . . that innocent who had made me fall in love with her . . .” She shook her head. “Samuel knew just how to strike at me, how to make my life even more miserable than it had already become. And to tell you the truth, Mr. Pendragon . . . ,” she lifted her eyes and glared at him, “. . . if there was ever a time I wished my husband dead, it was then.”

“Don't . . . ,” Victor hushed her.

“Why not? It's the truth.”

“Mother?” Kaylin was standing in the door. “Are you all right?”

“Don't come in.” Lady Arnifour buried her head in her hands. “These are such tawdry proceedings.”

“Then by all means . . .” Eldon shoved past his sister. “If the Arnifours are to be flung into the mire I think we should all wallow together. And tell me, Mr. Pendragon, is it true that you've seen my father's club burned to the ground and Mr. Vandemier laid up in the hospital?” He moved to the bar and poured himself a drink. “Can't say I give a bloody piss about the latter, but the former has me sick. You know what that'll cost me? Do you have any idea what that little parcel was worth?”

“How dare you. People lost their lives!” Lady Arnifour snapped.

“One of them could have been me,” he sneered. “I'd every intention of going there last night to have a word with that tosspot Vandemier—”

“No doubt you were unconscious long before you could make good on that threat,” she shot back.

“And there you have it.” He set his glass down. “A mother's love.”

“And you have become a despicable man.”

“I am what you made me,” he said before turning back to Colin. “And there you have it, Mr. Pendragon, proof that rats aren't the only mammals who devour their young.”

“That's enough, Eldon,” Kaylin spoke up. “Purge your demons somewhere else.”

He scowled at her but kept quiet as she went and sat next to her mother. “They aren't blaming you for this, are they?”

“I deserve a little more credit than that,” Colin said, still hovering in front of the fireplace. “I'm not so incompetent as to believe a woman of a certain age could have the stamina to ride out into the evening, strike two people down from the back of a horse, set a barn ablaze, and ride back without arousing suspicion.”

“That is a relief.” Kaylin gave a tight smile as she pulled a lace handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and began tugging it between her fingers. “Everyone here, including that inspector from Scotland Yard, believes that Nathaniel Heffernan is—”

“Please don't,” Lady Arnifour said. “You mustn't speak of what you know nothing about.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” Eldon moved across the room, his voice tight and accusing. “Is that some sort of veiled confession?”

“And I was wondering . . . ,” she sallied right back, “. . . if it isn't
you
who might have something to confess.”

His face went rigid. “So that's it, then? My own mother accuses me of murder?”

“Excuse me . . . ,” Colin said, flicking his eyes around the room until he had everyone's attention. “While I am sure this is serving some purpose, it is not serving mine, and I do have a few things I should like to have clarified so that we can put an end to all of this for good.”

“Well, I've had enough.” Victor pushed himself to his feet. “I'm tired of hearing my boy's name tossed up. You've already said he's innocent, Mr. Pendragon, so I'll have no more part in this.”