The Guardian of Secrets: And Her Deathly Pact (33 page)

Chapter 31

S
imon tackled the mountain of letters on his desk and kept only those he thought were genuine and probable. One thousand pounds as a reward was a small price to pay for Joseph’s capture, Marie had insisted. The reward had been posted in all newspapers in the country, and thousands of leaflets were now fixed to lamp posts and trees with Joseph’s likeness, making him the most infamous man in Britain. The search so far had yielded nothing but false sightings and unscrupulous attempts from the public to make more money than they’d ever imagined possible. Joseph had been seen everywhere, in pubs, trams, ferries, in the centre of London, and even in Goudhurst.

Each new lead had been scrutinised by Simon and John, and some had been acted upon, but with disappointing results in all cases so far. Both men were also in constant communication with the ports and the local police forces, and they had turned up nothing either, leaving them with the sinking feeling that Joseph Dobbs had once again escaped justice on a grand scale.

Mr Rawlings would not be on board the ship as promised for Marie’s voyage to Spain, as he was dealing with a new venture which, Marie had been told, had taken him to Argentina, in the continent of South America. Nevertheless, he had assured Simon that Marie would be well looked after on the voyage. Simon had also sent Ernesto Martinéz a telegram informing him of Marie’s arrival, and he’d asked him not to mention this news to Celia. He’d received a reply from Ernesto three days later:

All
arrangements
made
 
.
 
.
 
.
I
am
looking
forward
to
meeting
her.

Your
friend,

Ernesto
Martinéz
de
Amo

Marie also received a letter from Celia. It had arrived just as she was putting on her coat to leave. She opened it as soon as the ship left harbour and headed out to open sea.

Dearest
Auntie
,

I
hope
that
you
are
well
and
that
you’re
not
too
lonely
without
me.
I
know
I
miss
you
dreadfully
and
can’t
wait
for
you
to
come
and
see
me,
as
promised.
When
do
you
think
that
might
be?
I
have
not
heard
from
you
in
such
a
long
time,
and
I
do
long
for
news.

Christmas
is
over,
and
I
must
say,
it
seemed
to
go
on
forever.
It
was
strangely
different
because
here
they
share
Christmas
presents
on
Christmas
Eve.
Tomorrow,
6
January,
is
the
day
of
the
three
kings,
and
apparently
it
is
celebrated
with
all
the
pomp
and
ceremony
of
Christmas
Day
itself,
with
more
presents!
I
think
I
am
as
fat
as
a
turkey!

I
wish
you
could
see
my
little
Pedro.
By
the
way,
I’m
actually
getting
used
to
the
name
now.
He
makes
Marta
and
Don
Miguel
very
happy.
They
are
like
a
couple
of
proud
grandparents,
and
I
worry
that
he’ll
miss
them
when
we
leave
here
or
worse,
that
when
he
is
older,
he
will
never
remember
the
love
that
was
showered
upon
him.
Pedro
has
grown
and
at
seven
months,
is
beginning
to
take
a
great
deal
of
interest
in
the
world
around
him.
The
family
are
taking
bets
on
which
language
he’ll
speak
when
he
says
his
first
words.
As
for
little
Miguel,
well,
he’s
as
mischievous
as
any
little
boy
can
be.
He
is
speaking
English
now,
short
sentences
but
progressing
all
the
time.
Everyone
is
very
pleased
about
that,
especially
me,
as
I
feel
I’ve
earned
my
keep
in
some
way.

As
I
mentioned
before,
the
Martinéz
family
is
huge.
and
the
entire
family
celebrated
Christmas
Day
here
at
La
Glorieta.
Three
of
Ernesto’s
sisters
are
married
and
have
an
average
of
two
children
each,
so
you
can
imagine
how
many
people
were
at
the
dining
table.
Dinner
must
have
gone
on
for
at
least
five
hours,
and
afterwards
there
was
music
and
dancing.
Anyway,
Auntie,
things
here
are
going
very
well
for
us.

Don
Miguel
hasn’t
been
very
well
since
Christmas
Day.
I
think
the
cold
weather
really
bothers
his
arthritis,
and
lately
he
spends
most
of
his
time
in
front
of
the
extremely
large
log
fire
in
his
salon.
He
drinks
a
bit
too
much
wine,
in
my
opinion,
but
he
says
that
it
helps
to
keep
his
heart
healthy,
and
of
course
it
helps
to
keep
his
spirits
up
too.
I
sit
with
him
quite
often,
and
we
discuss
books.
I
tell
him
stories
about
Kent,
and
he
engrosses
me
in
tales
of
El
Cid,
the
knight
who
took
Valencia
from
the
Moors.
They’re
the
Arabs
who
lived
in
Spain
centuries
ago.

Marta
and
Rosa
are
fine,
although
they
seem
to
spend
a
lot
of
their
time
eating.
I’ve
put
on
so
much
weight
that
I’m
afraid
I’ll
have
to
buy
an
entirely
new
wardrobe
soon!
Marta
told
me
that
in
the
winter,
they
eat
a
lot
more
because
of
the
cold
weather,
and
she
also
said
that
they
need
another
layer
of
fat
to
keep
out
the
cold.
I
laughed,
but
I
think
she’s
right,
you
know.

They
are
all
so
kind,
Auntie,
and
I
really
feel
at
home,
although
I
am
a
little
homesick
at
the
moment.
I
don’t
know
why,
but
I
suppose
I
am
missing
you
and
Mr
Ayres.

Ernesto
works
hard,
and
I
hardly
see
him.
The
orange
trees
are
so
heavily
laden
with
their
fruit
that
it’s
surprising
that
the
branches
don’t
snap
off
with
the
weight.
He’s
such
a
kind
man,
Auntie,
and
he
makes
me
laugh
and
is
very
interesting
to
talk
to.
We
used
to
go
riding
a
lot
but
not
so
much
now,
which
is
such
a
shame,
as
I
so
enjoyed
those
days.
He
treats
Pedro
as
he
does
his
own
son,
and
I
think
he
really
loves
him.
I
know
Pedro
adores
him
because
his
eyes
light
up
whenever
he
walks
into
the
room,
but
as
I
said,
I
haven’t
seen
him
so
much
recently.
I
do
wish
I
could
talk
to
you
properly!