The Grenadillo Box: A Novel (35 page)

“I hadn’t realized you were such friends.”

“Lord Foley and I are barely acquainted, as you well know. He called on me yesterday only to discover your whereabouts. He had tried at Chippendale’s, but you weren’t there. I could tell him nothing apart from suggesting that he might meet you here.”

I stood there lost for words, furious within, grinning like an imbecile without, then frowning at my boots. There was much I wanted to discuss with her, many questions I wanted to ask of her; but with Foley present, not only was I unable to speak freely as I desired but it was also impossible to gauge whether her feelings towards me had warmed a little since her abrupt departure from the inn at Hindlesham.

It was Foley who broke the silence. “Well, Mr. Hopson,” he said, “am I to be honored with an explanation as to why you left Horseheath Hall so prematurely, without keeping our appointment, or must I divine it?”

Irritation at his intrusion made me retort more bluntly than I intended. “I left after I discovered Partridge’s mangled fingers stuffed in a casket in Robert Montfort’s chamber. After that grisly find, I had no more stomach for searching, and in any case I wanted to confront Madame Trenti with her deception.”

Alice’s eyes widened at this shocking statement, and I cursed myself for speaking thus. Foley, however, seemed scarcely moved. “And have you done so?” he barked.

“I went to see her this morning but found her dead. Strangled in her bed.”

Alice turned paler than a winding sheet, and even Foley was thunderstruck. “Good God!” he said. “Who else knows of this?”

I explained that Chippendale was also present when the body was discovered, that we’d seen Montfort’s carriage pass by the window, and that I was convinced the vehicle contained the murderer.

“Montfort didn’t keep a carriage in town,” said Foley. “He lost it at cards some time ago, and ever since was in the habit of borrowing Bradfield’s or mine.”

“This was a fine equipage, drawn by a handsome pair of chestnuts, with a green stripe on the side.”

“Then I’ll wager it was Bradfield’s,” said Foley, taking a circular gold snuffbox adorned with a star of diamonds from his pocket. “He’s fonder of horses and vehicles than almost anything.” He paused while he flicked open the sparkling lid, then turned to me. “Are you implying that Bradfield is involved with Trenti’s death?”

“Possibly but not necessarily. If Lord Bradfield loaned the vehicle to Lord Montfort, is it not likely he also loaned it to others? Some other person might have used his coach this morning. By the by, I believe it was this very coach that tried to run me down on my previous visit to Madame Trenti.”

“In that case we can rejoice in the fact that it will be an easy matter to ascertain the identity of the murderer, for whoever it was will doubtless be staying with Bradfield. I shall call on him after this afternoon’s entertainment and discover it. Hopson, I think you should accompany me. And perhaps Miss Goodchild would be interested to come with us?”

By way of reply Alice gave Foley a brief nod of acquiescence. Without another word she flashed me an inscrutable smile, then turned her gaze in the direction of the brilliantly lit stage.

A
t ten o’clock that night lights blazed from every window of Lord Bradfield’s mansion in Leicester Fields.

Foley had scarcely reached the door when a footman, assuming we were latecomers to the card and supper party, ushered us indoors. Foley, Alice, and I entered the saloon, a vast room with a ceiling stuccoed so heavily with nymph musicians it seemed they might swoop down at any moment. Bradfield, pink and plump as a wood pigeon, was holding court amid a group of gentlemen all dressed in embroidered finery. He greeted Foley jovially as if his unexpected arrival were the greatest good fortune.

“Foley, sir, I had no idea you were in town,” he said, vigorously shaking his hand. “My profound apologies, I should naturally have sent you a card had I known it.”

“On the contrary, dear fellow, think nothing of it. This is an entirely impromptu visit, and it is extremely good of you to receive us at such short notice,” answered Foley, bowing low as he did so. “The Cambridge weather, I’m sure you know, has been treacherous of late. I was uncertain whether or not to come to town. But in the end I found I had business to attend to, and here I am.”

Alice and I had hovered behind Foley during this exchange, but we had not escaped Bradfield’s notice. His brow furrowed in puzzlement as he glanced in my direction.

“I see you have Mr. Hopson in attendance. He is becoming quite a favorite of yours, I think.”

“His assistance has been invaluable in the matter of Montfort’s death. He continues to help me all he can.”

Bradfield now addressed me directly. “You are quite recovered from your tumble, I trust, Hopson? No more thoughts of a profession in surgery, I take it?” He guffawed at this jesting reference to my fainting.

I was in the midst of a halting apology for my indisposition when Foley saved me by interrupting again.

“Bradfield, I must tear you from Hopson and present to you Miss Goodchild, an acquaintance of ours who is accompanying us this evening. Miss Goodchild, I should add, is a most formidable woman. She runs the finest wood merchant’s in London, I’m told.”

I expected Alice to find such an introduction awkward, for she had told me she was not much used to company. But she handled herself with remarkable aplomb. Blushing only enough to enhance her complexion, she curtsied low and murmured a dignified “Good evening, my lord.”

Bradfield was dazzled, or at the very least intrigued, by what he saw. “A woman of business, how enchanting. You must meet my other guests. I’m sure they would be amused to know of your enterprise.”

I watched this exchange, helpless and impatient. I was conscious that Alice’s presence here offered what I’d been craving the past week—the opportunity to speak to her alone. Yet these meaningless pleasantries created still more obstacles between us, and I had to admit, her vexingly ambivalent manner left me utterly confused. Surely she could see from my desperate glances that I yearned to speak to her. How easily I could whisk her away to some quiet corner if only she’d look at me straight. But her eyes flitted over me and glanced about the room, apparently drinking in every detail of the decor and the assembled guests. I harbored a niggling suspicion she was cold-shouldering me, and the thought irked me like a splinter under the skin. I edged my way closer to her, intending to wait for a break in conversation to make a direct attempt to speak to her. But before I had opened my mouth, Bradfield stepped in and whisked her away. Now I saw he was introducing her to a cluster of ladies, including Miss Alleyn and Elizabeth Montfort, who were sitting together by the fire.

It was at this point that the throng parted and I caught sight of Robert Montfort. He was dressed more stylishly than I’d ever seen him, in a black brocade suit; he was looking with rapt interest at Alice. As he watched Bradfield usher her away, I fancied he shot a black look at Foley and then caught sight of me. His brow furrowed as if for a moment he was unsure who I was, then his expression clouded. I looked away, trembling at the thought of what his reaction would be to my presence. Surely by now he must have heard of my discovery in his laboratory. Would he dare to carry out his threats in the midst of this assembly? Was I about to be called a thief and branded and thrown into prison? When I mustered sufficient courage to look back, to my extreme astonishment I saw he was paying no attention to me whatsoever. Instead, he proceeded to present himself to Alice. Having kissed her hand, with what I judged unnecessary slowness, he began to converse with her. I couldn’t hear what he said, but whatever it was it seemed to charm her, because from then on her eyes never wandered from his face.

The very thought of Robert becoming friendly with Alice filled me with revulsion and dread. That he would single her out for some hidden purpose of his own I did not doubt. But what that intention was, and whether Alice was aware of the nature of the man who was making her laugh so gaily, I was less certain. Should she chance to speak of my discovery of Trenti’s body, should she happen to mention the carriage I’d glimpsed, she would place me in greater jeopardy than she knew.

Alice needed my protection. I was poised to advance towards Robert and interrupt his conversation when Foley obstructed me. He was in the company of another young gentleman.

“Mr. Hopson, I don’t believe you have met Lord Bradfield’s son, George. He intends to accompany Robert Montfort to Italy. Is that not so?”

“Indeed,” answered his companion, a well-made, rather baby-faced young gentleman in a gold and crimson coat. “Although I believe I should be cross with you, Foley. The death of Lord Montfort is spoiling all our plans, and I hear you have something to do with it.”

Foley was unruffled by this accusation. He took a leisurely pinch of snuff from his box before responding. “Only insofar as Robert’s father was indebted to me. I wouldn’t say I’m hindering—in many ways I’m assisting. I’ve been appointed to investigate the matter. Hopson here is my assistant. It’s a devilishly complex affair, d’you see.”

George tossed his head somewhat effeminately. “How very tedious for us all.”

“I trust it will be soon resolved,” soothed Foley. “For I make fine progress, thanks to Mr. Hopson. But tell me your news, George. How long have you been in town? I gather you were in Cambridge last week, though I never saw you.”

“I spent a few days at Horseheath with Robert, but we found it dreary, the weather being what it was. So we all came back here yesterday.”

“I trust city life has proved more amusing?”

“The usual pursuits have occupied us. This morning Robert and I took a turn in the park. Pleasant enough. We dined. We passed the afternoon drinking coffee at the Smyrna.”

“And the ladies?”

“A little shopping, I fancy.”

I shuffled about, growing increasingly uncomfortable. I wanted to break away and intervene between Robert and Alice, yet I knew convention (and Foley) demanded that I concentrate on this meaningless exchange. Although I account myself no less civil than any gentleman, every minute I stood there was torment. My desire to shield Alice from goodness knows what perils and to speak to her in private was being hampered by this petulant stranger.

But I soon realized that Foley was making a discreet attempt to find out who might have taken the coach to Golden Square this morning. Of course he was approaching the matter by a typically roundabout route, and one that had yielded nothing precise enough to be of any use. I looked helplessly over towards Alice and saw that she had now left Robert Montfort and stood in a group by the piano where another lady was in the midst of a recital. It was impossible for the moment to approach her. Thus to calm my impatience I applied myself to the identity of the driver of Bradfield’s carriage.

We were in need of information about the movements of the household and its guests. The easiest way to uncover these would be to quiz a member of the staff. Leaving George and Foley, I drifted out of the room. I sat down on a hall seat opposite a window, the curtain of which was undrawn. I shivered as I caught sight of my uneasy, diffident self reflected in the glass panes. Did this face really belong to me? What had become of my former carefree rashness? I had sat there staring at myself no longer than two minutes before, as I’d hoped, I was spotted by the elderly footman standing vigil at the door. Seeing me gazing into space, he probably assumed I’d taken too much wine and came to attend to me.

“Carriage, sir?”

“Not yet. The room is uncommonly stuffy with tobacco smoke; I’m merely taking some air until my companions are ready to leave.”

I hesitated. “Have you come with the Bradfield family from Cambridge?” I inquired as nonchalantly as if I’d asked him to fetch me a glass of brandy.

“No, sir.”

“You live here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you worked here many years?”

“Ten, sir.”

“Then you must be well acquainted with the family and their friends?”

He blinked uncomfortably, as if he were uncertain how to respond. “I do my duty, sir. No one’s said otherwise.”

“The Montforts, for instance?”

Silence. His face turned to wood.

“I ask these questions only because I’m assisting Lord Foley to find the truth about the death of Lord Montfort.”

Still he said nothing. I remembered the purse Foley had given me to cover my expenses. It was still half full. “I’ve half a crown to pay you for your trouble.”

He blinked, and looked at me. “Very well. But I don’t promise what I can tell you will help.”

“Let me be the judge,” I said sharply, for I had his measure now. “Just answer the questions as best you can. The Montforts visit frequently, I believe?”

“They do. Though it’s none of my concern.”

“And they sometimes borrow Lord Bradfield’s equipage?”

“He’s proud of the carriages and likes them to be shown off.”

“And today?”

“The carriages have been at their disposal.”

“Did you say carriages? There are more than one?”

“Three in all, sir. A gentleman’s traveling coach, a four-seater town coach, and a smaller chariot.”

“Can you describe them?”

He looked at me as if I was soft in the head. “They are handsome enough vehicles, two lined with green leather inside, the larger town vehicle with matching green silk curtains. The smaller is a light modern chariot such as a gentleman might drive, with a single passenger.”

“And the paint?”

“Little worse than new.”

“The color, man.”

“The larger is black, as are both the smaller, although they have dark green stripes on the side. They all bear the Bradfield crest upon the door.”

“And today who took them out?”

“The traveling coach wasn’t used. The town coach was taken by the ladies, who went shopping. The chariot was taken this morning, as it usually is, by Lord Bradfield’s son and his friend Robert Montfort. They are partial to racing round the park, I believe.” My heart sank at these words. How right I’d been to fear Robert Montfort.

“At what time did they depart for their promenade?”

“Their usual hour. Around ten-thirty.”

I was exasperated at this reply. It was too late; half an hour
after
the carriage I’d seen. “And before that, did anyone use the chariot? Perhaps Robert took it out alone?”

“If he did, I’m unaware of it, for I only see the carriages that come to the door. If someone goes directly to the mews, I wouldn’t know it.”

“And the mews is where exactly?”

“Behind the square. But I don’t advise you to visit now. There’s no one there but the horses. The grooms’ll all be abed. You’ll have to wait till morning if you want to know more.”

I was now certain that the vehicle that had run me down, and that I’d seen from the window of Trenti’s bedchamber, must have been the smallest of the three, the chariot, for it needed no coachman to drive it. But I was no closer to discovering the identity of the hunched driver, unless someone at the stables could help me.

“Excellent,” I said, slipping him the half crown I’d promised. “That’s all I need to know. You’ve been most useful.”

I walked slowly back to the saloon and took a glass of wine. I glanced in Foley’s direction in a vain attempt to communicate my wish to leave. But it was impossible to catch his attention since he, like most of the company, had joined the congregation at the far end of the room. Several people, among them Robert Montfort, sat around a circular table playing piquet; the rest had gathered round a spinet to listen to Elizabeth Montfort play. I could not see Alice, but I presumed, since she was not playing cards, she must be where I last saw her, at the front of the musical group.

“Are you always so unfriendly, Mr. Hopson, as to turn your back on your acquaintances?”

I spun round, astonished. Alice had somehow crept up behind me.

“What do you mean?”

“Merely that I’ve been looking for you these last ten minutes. What have you been doing?”

Her eyes danced and her voice sounded different from earlier that evening. In place of distance there was a note of mirth, as if her anger had suddenly dissolved and she was laughing at me instead.

“I’ve been outside in the corridor. It was too warm for me in here.”