The Shadow of Tyburn Tree (71 page)

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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‘And why, pray, should you take it there?' the Marquess asked, with a lift of his bushy grey eyebrows.

‘ 'Tis from King Gustavus, my lord; so cannot be forwarded by the post, and brooks no delay.'

‘But, since 'tis the middle of the week, I should be mighty surprised if you find Mr. Pitt at his Kentish home.'

Roger bowed. ‘Perhaps then, your lordship can inform me where I am more likely to come upon him; for I had imagined that he would retire there on vacating Downing Street.'

‘What say you?' exclaimed the burly old nobleman; then he suddenly burst out laughing and began to slap his thigh. ‘Egad! But this is rich! How it will make 'em laugh at White's. 'Tis clear that the news had not reached Copenhagen before you sailed from thence, and that you still know nothing of it.'

‘I've heard naught out of London since seeing King Gustavus on the 17th of February.' Roger smiled. ‘But I pray you enlighten me, for it sounds as if the news were good.'

‘Aye, 'tis the best, lad! The best that England ever had! 'Twas on that very day that the leeches declared our good King sane again, and unlikely to suffer a relapse. Half those scallywags at Brook's are being dunned by the bailiffs, for the money they borrowed in anticipation of the loot that they'll now never get; while young Billy Pitt, from his championing the rights of the helpless King, is become the idol of the nation, and more firmly seated in the saddle than was even his great father after all his victories.'

Roger jumped to his feet, his eyes shining. ‘Then the Regency
Bill never went through—never became law?'

‘Nay. Had it done so and the Prince once assumed power, it might have proved plaguey difficult to wrest it from him again. But the country was saved from its impending fate by a matter of hours. The Bill passed the Commons, and was actually before the Lords; but by mid-February it was known that His Majesty had not suffered an attack for some time. On the 17th even the Whig doctors could no longer maintain their refusal to add their signatures to a bulletin declaring him convalescent; and on the 19th the Lord Chancellor adjourned the debate as no longer in the national interest.'

Lord Amesbury stood up, clapped Roger heartily upon the shoulder, and added: ‘Now, lad! Get you along to Downing Street with that letter; and give my respects to the greatest Englishman of us all.'

An hour later Roger was with the Prime Minister, who accepted his joyful congratulations in the placid manner that rarely left him. With his quiet smile, he said:

‘ 'Twas a devilish near thing, and a nerve-racking time for us all; but from Dr. Willis's being called into consultation I was always hopeful of His Majesty's eventual recovery. That it should have come about so quickly, is one of those things which gives us good cause to believe that God ever extends a protecting hand over Britain in her direst extremities. For myself, I now know more clearly than I did who are my true friends; for many that I thought so went over to the enemy. But I have been greatly touched by the support and loyalty of others; and I set a very high value, Mr. Brook, upon the attachment that you showed me.'

Roger reddened with pleasure, and, producing King Gustavus's despatch, handed it over.

As he took it, and slit the top of the envelope with a paper knife, Pitt remarked: ‘Have you opened this? The seal appears to be damaged.'

‘Indeed no, Sir,' Roger exclaimed, and looking over he saw that the big red seal bearing the Royal arms of Sweden was cracked across its lower segment.

‘I trust no one else could have done so,' the Prime Minister said after he had scanned the first page of the letter. ‘For this impetuous, intriguing King writes fiery stuff, and 'twould be highly embarrassing both for him and us had any unauthorised person seen it.'

‘It never left my person, Sir. I'll swear to that.'

Pitt shrugged. ‘In that case think no more of it. The seal must have become cracked through some pressure that it met with through being carried in your pocket.'

After a moment he laid the letter down, and went on. ‘For the time being we have done all that we can do in the North; and, in my opinion, for some months to come we shall have no further worries from that quarter. As I told you early in February, France has again become the centre of European interest. The people are becoming ever more insistent that a States-general should be summoned for the ventilation of well-founded grievances. King Louis's advisers are strongly opposed to surrendering to the public clamour; so if he is forced to give way it may mean the beginning of the end of the monarchy. Are you willing to return to France and ascertain for me what is likely to be the outcome of these bitter antagonisms, which now threaten to provoke a bloody revolution there?'

Roger hesitated only a second. ‘I would like to do so, Sir. But I am now married. Would there be any objection to me taking my wife with me?'

‘None, as far as I am concerned. I trust you will be very happy. How much you decide to tell Mrs. Brook of your real business I must leave to you. But if she
is
a lady of your integrity and wit, she may prove of considerable assistance to you in your mission.'

‘I thank you, Sir.' Roger bowed. ‘Naturally I shall be discreet on special matters, and with regard to those for whom I am acting. At your convenience I will wait upon you for further instructions.'

Standing up he took his leave, very well pleased with himself. The past few months had brought him much closer to his kind but uneffusive master. He had done good work and gained much valuable experience in his northern travels. He had ample funds to go on with, and his future in this fascinating game of ferreting out the secrets that moved nations to war or peace was now assured. Moreover, he had permission to tell Natalia Andreovna enough about his work to prevent her becoming unhappy and suspicious on account of it; and he felt that the sharing of this new interest would create a strong bond between them.

He had just reached the door when the Prime Minister called him back with the remark: ‘By the by! Did you not tell me, Mr. Brook, just before I sent you to Russia, that you had been a member of the house-party at Stillwaters, during the weekend that Sir Humphrey Etheredge met his death?'

‘Why, yes, Sir!' Roger replied in surprise.

Pitt nodded. ‘I thought as much. Since you have only just returned from abroad, it may be news to you that Lady Etheredge is now on trial for her husband's murder.'

23
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

It was just four o'clock when Roger walked dazedly out of the door of No. 10. The Prime Minister had been most distressed on seeing the shock that his announcement had caused, but he could give Roger no detailed information. He explained that his mind was always so occupied with Parliamentary business that he had not the leisure to follow proceedings in the criminal courts; and would not even have heard of the matter, had not the fact that a celebrated beauty stood accused of murdering her husband caused an unusual stir in the fashionable world.

Pitt's brain, so agile in debate and so brilliant when required to provide a cold, logical analysis, seemed suddenly to become benumbed when called on to offer sympathy to a friend stricken by a personal tragedy. Awkwardly, he had protested that he would never have broken the news so abruptly had he known that Roger and Georgina were such close friends, then patted Roger's shoulder and offered him a glass of port. Roger had declined and hurried away, now seized with a terrible urge to know the worst.

On the corner of the street a row of sedan-chairs was plying for hire. It struck him that, if the chairmen could be induced to keep at a trot, this offered a swifter means of getting through the narrow, congested streets than taking a coach; so, picking the two most stalwart-looking bearers, he promised them half-a-guinea if they could get him to Colonel Thursby's house in Bedford Square in a quarter of an hour.

Inspired by the high reward, they set off at a run, and as Roger was jogged along he endeavoured to fight down his terrible apprehensions. If Georgina had been accused and brought to trial that could only be Sir Isaiah Etheredge's doing. Evidently, as Colonel Thursby had feared, the new Baronet bitterly resented being deprived of the bulk of his inheritance through Georgina's marriage-settlement, and was endeavouring to recover it by getting her out of the way. But what evidence could he possibly have?

Georgina and Roger himself were the only people who knew
the real truth as to how Humphrey Etheredge had died. Colonel Thursby suspected it and so did Count Vorontzoff. It was certain that the former would never even have hinted at anything which might have brought his beloved daughter into such a ghastly situation; but the Russian Ambassador might have done so. Yet even he could provide no proof. He might have recanted his statement that the midnight message which had brought Sir Humphrey to Stillwaters in the dawn had been inspired by Georgina as an April Fool's Day joke, and thus thrown discredit on the rest of her story; but, apart from that, anything he might say could be based only on surmise.

As the sedan was carried across Oxford Street by the perspiring chairmen, Roger came to the conclusion that this terrible thing could have come about only through Sir Isaiah and Count Vorontzoff having plotted together to destroy Georgina. The Vindictive Russian must have allowed his rancour at Georgina's treatment of him to overcome his apprehensions of Roger's threat to kill him if he talked. Roger bared his teeth in a mirthless grin, at the thought that Vorontzoff had made a mistake that was going to cost him his life. That would be no consolation if Georgina lost hers; and Roger knew that he, too, might now soon end his days swinging from a rope on Tyburn Tree; but he was determined that, before he did so, he would send the Russian on into the valley of the shadows ahead of him.

At Colonel Thursby's house the chair pulled up with a jerk. Roger jumped out, paid the men their money, and hammered on the front door. The footman who answered it told him in a subdued voice that the Colonel was not at home, as he was attending her ladyship's trial at the Old Bailey; but that the court rose at four o'clock, so he should be back quite shortly.

Roger said that he would wait, and was shown into a small sitting-room on the ground-floor. Impatient as he was for news he did not like to discuss the matter with the man; but he suddenly thought of Jenny and, having ascertained that she was in the house, asked that she should be sent to him.

Two minutes later Georgina's faithful maid appeared; her pretty face was drawn and her eyes were red from weeping. At the sight of Roger she burst into a fresh fit of weeping and buried her face in her frilled apron. Roger quickly put an arm arm about her shoulders and gave her a friendly squeeze, as he said:

‘Come, Jenny, m'dear. I know how you feel, but crying will not help her ladyship. I have been out of England these past three weeks and knew naught of this terrible business till half-an-hour ago. Tell me, I beg, how it all came about?'

‘Oh, Mr. Brook, Mr. Brook,' wailed Jenny. ‘ 'Tis right glad I'd be to see you did I dare look you in the face. But should they take my sweet mistress away in the hangman's cart, 'twill be on account of my stupidity.'

‘Nay, Jenny, I'll not believe that,' Roger said gently. ‘You were ever a good, loyal girl; and I'd go bail any day that you n'er did a thing that you thought might bring harm to her ladyship.'

Her head still bowed, Jenny turned a little, grasped one of his lapels and clung to him pathetically. ‘Oh, bless you for them words. Mr. Roger, dear. You was ever a real gentlemen—even when you were a little boy and me nought but nurserymaid to Miss Georgina. I'd have bit out my tongue before I'd have said it. I swear I would; but I'd not a notion they were setting a trap for me.'

‘But what did you say?' Roger pressed her. ‘And who set a trap for you?'

‘ 'Twas yesterday, the second day of the trial,' she whimpered. ‘I was taken to the law-court and put into the box. I'd fain have gone the first day, to be near her ladyship; but they wouldn't let me. There she was, bless her heart, looking a little pale but as calm as though she was in her box at the opera; and when I curtsied to her she gave me a sweet smile. The Judge was in a red robe and all the lawyer-gentlemen were wearing wigs and gowns. One of them was a big red-faced man with bushy black eyebrows. After I'd kissed the Bible he asked me a lot of questions, and very nice to me he was, at first. He said that he expected that as a good maid I took pride in keeping her ladyship's things clean and tidy; and I said of course I did. He said he had no doubt that I could remember just how many dresses her ladyship had, and what colours they were, and I told him, yes, to that too.

‘Then—then he asked me to describe her bedroom at Stillwaters. At that I looked across at her ladyship and she nodded to me, so I did as I was bid. After that the gentleman asked about her ladyship's cosmetics, and what brushes and things she kept on her dressing-table. 'Twas not for me to say I thought that no business of his; and after telling him that I kept all her pots and jars in a special cabinet, I gave him the particulars he wanted. He made me repeat them, then he asked about the ornaments on the mantelpiece and the chest-of-drawers. At length he came to her bedside-table, and wanted to know what was kept on that. I told him her candle and night-light, one or two books and a big cut-glass bottle of scent.'

Roger stiffened, drew in a quick breath, and said: ‘Yes, go on, Jenny.'

She began to sob again. ‘He—he made me repeat that. Then—then he went back to the dressing-table and asked me if I had ever seen that particular scent-bottle on it; and—and I had to admit that I hadn't. I—I knew that I'd said something I didn't ought by then. But he'd become fierce and hor-horrible. He banged his fist on the edge of the box where I was standing and glowered at me as—as if he meant to strip my soul bare. Suddenly he—he pulled the bottle out from under his gown and thrust it within an inch of my face. He—he—he made me swear it was that bottle and no—no other; and that I'd never seen it anywhere except beside her ladyship's bed.'

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