The Serpent In The Garden_ A Novel Part 10

Joshua's spirits surged and then plummeted almost as quickly. Bridget was the flower he had determined not to pick. How could she tempt him thus? Today was Friday; she would arrive the day after tomorrow and it was too late to stop her. If he wasn't at the Star and Garter, she would arrive at Astley. With so much to occupy him, he had no time for diversion, and in any case taking her boating on the river was something he would never contemplate. Nor did he feel inclined to take her for an excursion on the hill. Furthermore, he had no desire to explain why. The only thing he could think of was to meet her, then fas.h.i.+on some excuse-a make-believe malady, perhaps-to curtail their outing.

"Sir, I've two other messages for you. The first is from Peters, the first footman, who bade me tell you that the hall boy has run the errand you asked. The measurement you wanted was 'five foot nine.' That was all. He said you'd know what it meant."

Five foot nine referred to the dimensions of the coffin. Joshua considered the other circ.u.mstantial evidence. The clothes in Cobb's bag were those of a man well over six foot. h.o.a.re's appointment with Cobb on the afternoon of the death, his subsequent disappearance-Joshua's theory that the body was h.o.a.re's now seemed highly likely. If so, an obvious suspect for h.o.a.re's murder was Cobb himself. Was he indeed the lanky a.s.sailant on the road, living as a vagabond, attacking pa.s.sersby? But where was his motive?

"And the other message?"

"The mistress, that is, Mrs. Mercier, she bade me ask you if you would meet her at the pavilion on the northern border of the lake-I can point it out to you if you wish. She'll be waiting for you."

Hearing this, Joshua's usual composure deserted him. He forgot Cobb, he forgot h.o.a.re, he even forgot Bridget's letter. He feared that Sabine had called him to this secluded spot to perpetrate some evil act of vengeance for the loss of her necklace. If only he had some information pertaining to the jewel that might deflect her wrath. And yet, apart from Violet's letter, which he couldn't show her-how would he explain his discovery of it?-how could he appease her? Could he express a vague inkling that the body she found was in some way linked to the necklace's disappearance? That might lead to a discussion of Cobb's and h.o.a.re's activities. She had a clear motive for wis.h.i.+ng both Cobb and h.o.a.re dead. They had threatened to take the jewel away from her. If Sabine had killed once to protect her jewel, to what lengths might she now go to avenge its loss?

Yet he had to face Sabine sooner or later. If they were alone, she might speak more freely than in company. And so he donned his buff coat braided with corn-colored silk, arranged his lace cuffs and cravat, and made his way to the pavilion with a heavy heart but his sights clearly set. He would do his utmost to placate Sabine while eliciting as much as possible. If his scheme failed, he would give himself up to whatever fate held in store for him.

JOSHUA had seen the lake from the drawing room windows and had heard that Mr. Lancelot "Capability" Brown had exerted himself most brilliantly in this portion of the garden. On reaching the sh.o.r.e he fully appreciated the reason for Astley's sublime reputation. Brown had formed a gentle slope leading to a serpentine stretch of water fed by a stream at one end and with a small island disguising the limits at the other. Neat mown lawns studded with single trees and shrubs ran down to the sh.o.r.e. On the far side of the lake, clumps of beech and thicker woodland met the water's edge, their reflections gleaming in splashes of dark and light on the still surface. A path meandered along the borders of the lake and led to the pavilion.

The building was set on a rocky escarpment overlooking the water and its fringe of trees. It was designed in the form of a rotunda-with a colonnade supporting a domed roof, and a circular seat in the middle-open to the landscape on all sides. Joshua climbed the slope, trying to ignore the anxiety that gripped his insides. To his surprise, Sabine, far from lying in malevolent wait, was nowhere to be seen.

Joshua paced, sat, then paced some more. As his eye skirted a small copse some twenty yards away, he thought he caught sight of the shadow of a figure skulking in the trees. Instantly he thought that perhaps this was Cobb. He focused intently, uncertain if in the glancing shadows and light he had merely seen a branch moving in the wind. He thought he caught another flash of movement and was on the point of careering down the slope toward it, but at that very second there was a rustle close behind. He wheeled round. "Mrs. Mercier!" he exclaimed. "I didn't hear you come."

"Good morning, Mr. Pope," she answered softly. "My apologies for keeping you. I had something to discuss with Granger."

"It is no matter, madam. I have been enjoying the view." Her eyes were expressionless, unblinking, her mouth even, her brow smooth. Was this the face of a dangerous murderess? Or someone about to accuse him of theft? He detected no trace of menace.

"I daresay you have guessed why I summoned you here: the necklace is uppermost in my mind, Mr. Pope. I gather you have protested your innocence and that Mr. Bentnick has given you leave to try to recover it. You must think yourself very fortunate."

Fortunate was the last thing he considered himself at this instant, but he refrained from saying so. "I a.s.sure you, madam, I am doing my utmost to find the jewel. G.o.d willing, it is just a matter of time."

"Granger tells me you gave Miss Manning some instruction in drawing in the pinery this morning. Tell me, do you believe that tutoring her might aid the recovery of my jewel?"

Joshua felt the blood rush to his cheeks but he refused to capitulate. "Miss Manning requested it. I thought an hour in her company might be useful in other ways. She is intimately acquainted with the workings of the Astley household. Moreover, the drawings I made while instructing her will serve for the portrait."

"To my mind, spending the morning in the company of a young woman implies you are s.h.i.+rking your duty to find my necklace. And to me that only points to your guilt. Tell me, what did the morning's endeavors yield?"

"It enabled me to learn something from Granger, which may be most significant."

"What?"

"A detail of which you are doubtless aware-something concerning the temperature needed for pineapples to grow."

She looked slightly surprised, but not for long.

"I presume you refer to the night the boy fell asleep and several plants perished? I don't see what that has to do with my jewel. What intrigues me more is something Granger mentioned just now apropos his conversation with you: Miss Manning's interest in gardening, and pineapples in particular. She has never said a word to me on the subject. And Granger says he instructed her about how to grow pineapples at Barlow Court some years ago, and she even gave fruit to Mr. Bentnick for his table. Her reticence is most peculiar, is it not? Do you think it points to a darker purpose? You know her family is lately impoverished. Perhaps she stole my jewel."

Joshua's instinct was to deflect Sabine's attention from Lizzie-heaven forbid he should lead her into danger. He shrugged his shoulders as if Lizzie and pineapples were matters of equal unimportance. "G.o.d may know the workings of Miss Manning's mind, but I am not privy to them. You are right. I consider her a possible suspect, but then I view everyone in the same manner."

"Answer me this, then, Mr. Pope. Do you truly believe that the dead man was not Cobb?"

"What makes you ask?"

"Mr. Bentnick told me you believed as much. He said you were accosted last night by a man claiming to be Cobb. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"What did the man want?"

"Money, I presume." He held her gaze, revealing not a flicker of guilt.

"Did he take it?"

"No. I kept hold of my purse."

"Then if it wasn't Cobb's, whose was the body I found?"

"I believe it may have belonged to an attorney called h.o.a.re, who was pursuing the dispute over the owners.h.i.+p of your necklace and chanced to be visiting Cobb the day before you found the corpse. And on that subject, may I ask you, madam, have you ever met John Cobb?"

"No, or I would have known it wasn't him when I found him, would I not?"

He nodded, acknowledging to himself that even if she were lying, she would not readily ensnare herself. Nevertheless, she was answering his questions more candidly than he had dared hope. Now was the moment for his most crucial question. "Madam, I must ask, who is the other claimant for your necklace?"

Joshua had the impression that she was weighing whether to answer him or tell him to go to the devil. She raised her chin and caught his eye. "I could ask you how you know anything about this private matter, but Mr. Bentnick has already told me. I understand that you traveled to London to make enquiries on my behalf and that you visited the premises of the attorney who is pressing the claim against me. I presume that is why you ask me this?"

He nodded wordlessly. He felt the icy blast of her disapproval but braved it, knowing that she offered him an opportunity to learn something he needed desperately to discover. "It is for this reason I would like to ask who-"

"It isn't true that I asked you to enquire into any of this."

"Not in so many words. But you revealed your n.o.ble sentiments when you asked me to look into the death and question Granger on your behalf. I forbore to mention it then, but I too felt outrage at the way his death was glossed over without further inquiry-and so I felt a.s.sured of your concurrence, and took it upon myself to explore the matter further when the opportunity presented itself."

She looked mollified by his manipulation of the truth. "Perhaps you are right, it is this business that lies behind the jewel's loss. But I would not have you waste more time than necessary on h.o.a.re now that my necklace is gone. Moreover, I must emphasize, the claim he pursued for his client was an utterly spurious one."

"That may well be. But unless I learn the details, how can I be expected to judge? And how can I find the necklace? Cobb was pursuing the same claim. Moreover, he was interested in your daughter. It is lunacy to pretend that this may not have some bearing-"

"Very well, since you insist, I will tell you briefly all I know. The jewel was left to me by my second husband, Charles Mercier. He had a child out of wedlock before we were married. It is she who is behind this ridiculous claim."

"And her name?"

Sabine laughed as if the question were one only an imbecile would ask. "If I knew that, the difficulty would be solved. She is intent upon retaining her respectability and wishes no one to know of her sordid birth; thus she wishes to remain incognito."

Joshua recalled that Crackman's letter made reference to the claimant's desire for privacy. He judged she was telling the truth and was as frustrated as he by her lack of knowledge. He considered raising the matter of the letter in Herbert's desk, which he was sure had been sent by the claimant, but suspected it would only incur her wrath. Having reached this impa.s.se, he took a different track. "Then may I ask, ma'am, the purpose of your recent trip to London?"

She blushed and her lips twitched with annoyance. "It was private-nothing to do with this matter."

Though he sensed she was holding back, he let the matter drop. "One last favor I would ask of you, madam. May I question your maid about what happened during that interval?"

"I cannot for the life of me think what you would learn from a servant, but if you wish, you might call on Marie early this evening. We will resume our usual routine of sittings from tomorrow, Mr. Pope-that will give you the opportunity to apprise me of your advances. Remember, finding my necklace must take precedence over your enquiries into h.o.a.re."

Then, without waiting for his response, she left.

Joshua watched her sweep down the path and head back to the house, her pale blue skirts billowing out behind her like a windblown sail. All things considered, she had behaved far better than he had dared hope. He had, after all, survived the encounter.

Chapter Twenty-three.

AFTER Sabine had gone, Joshua remained in the pavilion. The woods about him were motionless, tinged with golden evening light, as tranquil as a landscape by Claude Lorraine. Then suddenly a beam of light flashed out from the shadows-a blinding flare, as if for an instant someone had held a mirror and magnified the sun. Joshua peered at the spot where he thought the light had originated. It was now past five o'clock in the evening. The shadows were long and purple. Had he been distracted by the setting sun reflecting off the water? He thought not, but it was impossible to be sure. He remembered the shadow of movement he thought he had glimpsed. Was this Cobb?

Joshua began to make for the copse. He was determined to track Cobb down, to put to him the questions he should have posed the night before and settle the matter of the corpse's ident.i.ty.

At the edge of the wood he slowed his pace and scoured the dark undergrowth for any sign of the person he knew was concealed there. Nothing he saw or heard alarmed him until, just as he approached an open gra.s.sy glade surrounded by a clump of ancient beech trees, something stirred.

Was it a cracking twig, or the rustle of leaves, or a squirrel jumping from one tree to another? The sound brought s.h.i.+vers of disquiet. He half made up his mind to retreat to the house and call for a gla.s.s of Hollands gin, but some instinct drove him a little to the right.

Behind the beech trees were dense thickets of hazel. The only way forward was to cross the open expanse. His steps now were short and hesitant, like a reluctant child's. His breath was heavy and he was conscious of blood pounding his veins and an uncomfortable tingling at the roots of his hair.

He had almost reached the heart of the glade when he saw him. A tall man, wearing a dark costume and a black hat, lay slumped in a pool of sun against one of the beeches. An empty bottle lay next to him. The man's face was invisible beneath the brim of his hat. Was it Cobb? It was hard to tell; the previous night when they had met it had been dark. The stature seemed about right, though it was difficult to judge when the fellow was sitting down.

Before Joshua tried to wake the man his right hand jolted and began to claw for some invisible object. His head jerked up. Joshua could now see a narrow, pallid face, eyes as dark as mahogany, cavernous cheeks, an unshaven complexion. Not Cobb, Joshua was fairly certain. The man was now awake and aware that he was being watched. They eyed each other, like two foxes stopped in their tracks.

Suddenly the man sprang to his feet; his face was purple with fury. He grasped Joshua by the scruff of the neck. "d.a.m.n you!" he shouted out. "How dare you come creeping up on me? Where's the bottle you s.n.a.t.c.hed from my hand?"

"I took nothing," Joshua replied flatly. He could smell the brandy on the man's breath and guessed that he was scarcely conscious of what he was saying. "The bottle is lying there, and by the look of it and you, it's empty."

"You impertinent devil. I'll teach you to steal from me. I saw you with my own eyes, sir. Felt you too. D'you take me for a fool?" With that, he shoved Joshua away, and unsheathed his sword and brandished it under Joshua's nose.

"Sir," Joshua said, raising his hands to show he was unarmed and intended no harm. "I beg you, listen to me a minute. When I came upon you, you were fast asleep. Your notion that I robbed you was simply a dream. Search me if you will. You will find nothing on me."

The man appeared confused, but still no less dangerous. Joshua pressed confidently on. "In any case, if it's merely brandy you are after, you have only to come with me and I will procure you some." Joshua reasoned that if the man could be persuaded into the house, he could have him apprehended.

The man squinted through the trees at the distant silhouette of Astley House. "Who are you? For I know everyone in that place and you are a stranger to me."

"Why, sir," Joshua said, more intrigued now than ever, "I had no idea you were a family friend. Allow me to present myself. I am Joshua Pope. Perhaps you have heard of me? I am an artist by profession, commissioned by Mr. Bentnick to paint his marriage portrait. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

The man stepped forward. His eyes were bloodshot, his complexion as white as his s.h.i.+rt; when his mouth lolled open, the smell of alcohol was overpowering.

"Since you promise me brandy, I suppose you must be a decent fellow. I will tell you, then-my name is Arthur Manning."

"I was with your sister this morning," Joshua said coldly. "She asked me to teach her drawing. She never told me her brother was coming to call."

He shrugged his shoulders. "She and I rarely speak."

"Come, sir," Joshua pressed. "Let us go to the house, and on the way, you shall tell me why you and she have quarreled. Whatever it is, it will easily be forgotten. Such a delightful girl as she would not harbor a grudge for long."

Arthur Manning now abandoned his earlier hostility. Perhaps the effort of maintaining it was too much in his inebriated state. He draped his arm about Joshua's back as if they were old friends reunited. "I cannot go with you, Pope," said Arthur Manning, shaking his head with exaggerated solemnity. "Best thing to do is this. You go back to the house. Bring some brandy and some food-I have eaten nothing all day, and by G.o.d I am famished. It's a fine evening for a little supper outdoors, is it not?"

Joshua recoiled at this familiarity. It struck him nonetheless that Manning's face might have looked quite pleasant had he shaved and were it not for a wolfish gleam in his eye. Feigning ignorance, he said, "Why cannot you accompany me into the house? As Miss Manning's brother you would surely be most welcome."

"It's a long story-won't go into it now. Be a good fellow, get the brandy, come back, then we'll discuss it."

Joshua conceded. He returned to the dining room via the garden door, helped himself to a cut-gla.s.s decanter of brandy and a pair of gla.s.ses, and draped his coat over this contraband in case he ran into Herbert. But there was no one about in the dining room, nor did he spy any servants. He was back at the glade in less than half an hour.

Arthur Manning was sitting against a beech tree, smoking a long clay pipe. "Ah," he said, s.n.a.t.c.hing the brandy decanter and pouring a considerable quant.i.ty directly into his mouth, "I knew I could rely on you. Good man. What did you say your name was?"

To judge by the speed he was gulping from the decanter, the fog of brandy would soon be impenetrable. However, his present condition, uninhibited, garrulous-though admittedly not entirely lucid-provided Joshua with a valuable opportunity.

With a little prompting Arthur confided his misfortunes. In the past twelve months he had been tricked by a charlatan (who he was sure now had used weighted dice and marked cards), in a room at the Swan in Water Lane in Richmond, into gambling more than he should. Had he known he didn't stand a cat's chance of winning he would never have stayed in the game. Guilt over his losses had spurred him to accept Caroline Bentnick's offer of a loan. She had pressed the money on him; he never pet.i.tioned her for it. He intended to repay his father directly, but further misfortune befell him. Pa.s.sing through the neighboring town of Sheen, on his way to meet his father, he had been held up by a highwayman. Incensed, he put up a struggle and only narrowly escaped with his life. Furthermore-iniquity of iniquities-no one believed him! His father had treated him as a veritable outcast; his sister sulked. So furious had he been at them he had left Barlow Court for a fortnight to stay with friends in Bath. Since his return he could not bear to speak to his father or Lizzie. Joshua had only to speak to the watch in Richmond and they would back up his account. He had every intention of repaying the money somehow, though as yet he was unsure how.

Joshua listened, nodding and making sympathetic noises, but he was far from taken in. Arthur Manning, to judge from all he had seen of him, was a drunken reprobate, a liar, and a thief. He had stolen from his family and from their close friends the Bentnicks; he had taken advantage of Caroline Bentnick's fondness.

Nonetheless, when his story of woes came to an end, Joshua put on a friendly expression. "I am sorry to hear all this. No one should have to endure such misfortune. By the by, what have you heard of Mrs. Mercier and her daughter?"

Arthur laughed, a trifle grimly. "Caused quite a stir, them coming to Astley so soon after Jane Bentnick's death. Handsome woman, though-can't say I blame old Herbert. And as for the daughter, Violet-a dainty dish, very dainty. Can't think what old Francis is waiting for. Surely not my sister!"

"Are you acquainted with the Merciers, then? I thought your disgrace took place before their arrival."

Arthur pushed out his chin. "My most recent troubles happened only a fortnight ago. Told you, Pope, it's impossible for me to enter the house openly. But that doesn't mean I cannot go there at all."

"What are you saying, Mr. Manning? That you have been in the house clandestinely?"

He laughed, spluttering half-swallowed brandy down his s.h.i.+rtfront in the process. "In a manner of speaking."

"How, then? Tell me what you saw."

He looked bleary-eyed into the middle distance. He was dribbling a little and slurring his words quite heavily. "I go in, sometimes, at night. I swear, Pope, if you let this be known I will kill you."

"For what purpose?

He shrugged his shoulders. "Idle curiosity, I suppose."

Joshua didn't believe this for a minute. "Did you enter my rooms two nights ago?

"Possibly."

"You removed a card from my pocket. Why?"

Arthur blinked slowly, licking his lips as if he was parched. "I was looking for something. I thought it might be there. You stirred in your sleep and I feared you would waken. I left with the card by mistake."

"You were looking for something? What, precisely?"

Arthur looked mulish. "I caught sight of your return. You were clutching something. I thought I would see what it was."

He was lying, Joshua was certain of it. Had he witnessed the encounter on the road? "Did you know a man named Cobb?"

Manning's eyes opened so wide that Joshua could see the tracery of veins crisscrossing the jaundiced whites; then he began to guffaw with such resonating rowdiness that Joshua feared they might be heard. In between his paroxysms of laughter he looked down at his brandy-stained front, as if mulling over the tremendous joke. His pauses gradually became longer and longer, until at last he fell entirely silent.