“I don’t understand, sir,” she whispered.
“I can see that. Really, how did you survive all those journeys to dangerous lands? One would have thought that you would have picked up a modicum of cleverness along the way.”
She rose slowly. “You can’t shoot me here. Your housekeeper is moving about upstairs. She will hear the shot.”
“I have no intention of shooting you, not unless you leave me no other choice.”
He was lying, Amity thought. She could see it in his eyes.
“What, exactly, are you going to do with me?” she asked.
“I am going to gag you and lock you up in the darkroom in my basement, where you will not be able to cause me any trouble until I am well away from London. On your feet. Open the door and turn to your left. Hurry.”
Amity rose and crossed the room. She opened the door and went briskly out into the hall.
Humphrey followed, moving swiftly. His attention was focused on her. He did not notice Benedict until it was too late.
Benedict seized Humphrey’s gun arm and twisted savagely. The pistol roared. The bullet thudded into the wood. All movement ceased overhead. A muffled scream sounded.
The housekeeper, Amity thought.
Benedict snapped the pistol out of Humphrey’s hand.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Benedict said. “But I understand that seasoned travelers are accustomed to that sort of thing. There are a couple of men from Scotland Yard waiting outside on the front steps.”
Humphrey looked toward the front hall. Panic and resolve flashed across his face. Then he turned, preparing to flee past Amity in an attempt to exit the kitchen door.
He stopped short when he saw that she had whipped open her fan, revealing the honed steel leaves and the sharp spokes.
But it was Benedict who spoke.
“Let him go, Amity, he’s no longer our problem.”
Amity stepped aside and folded the fan. Humphrey shot past her. He flung open the door and fled out into the garden—straight into the arms of Inspector Logan and a constable.
“I forgot to mention that there are also a couple of men from the Yard, waiting at the back door,” Benedict said.
“You are under arrest, Mr. Nash,” Logan said. He took out a pair of handcuffs.
“You don’t understand,” Humphrey said quickly. “Amity Doncaster is a spy. She is guilty of treason. She brought some valuable papers here today. She stole them and tried to sell them to me, if you can believe it. I was going to lock her up and summon the police.”
Cornelius Stanbridge ambled into view out in the garden. “I do agree that Miss Doncaster has what it takes to make an excellent spy, including an ideal cover for traveling abroad. She is really quite talented. Nerves of steel. I am considering employing her as an agent for the Crown.”
Amity blushed. “Why, thank you, Mr. Stanbridge. That is very flattering.”
Benedict narrowed his eyes. “You can forget any notion of taking up a career as a spy, Amity. My nerves could never stand the strain.”
She sighed. “Really, sir, must you take all the fun out of foreign travel?”
Forty-four
Inspector Logan will disappear from my life soon,” Penny said. She went to stand at the window of the study. “The case has been closed. He has no more reason to call on me.”
Amity crossed the room and stopped beside Penny. Together they contemplated the garden. It was raining again. The day was gray and dreary. There was a fire on the hearth to ward off the damp chill.
“We need a plan, as Benedict is fond of saying,” Amity said.
Penny gave her a watery smile. “What sort of plan do you suggest?”
“Inspector Logan may not have any reason to call on us but you could certainly give him a reason to call on you.”
Penny glanced at her. “How do you suggest that I do that without being obvious?”
“What’s wrong with being obvious?”
Penny sighed. “It’s not the possibility I might embarrass myself that worries me. I’m afraid that being too forward would put him in a very difficult position in the event that he does not wish to continue with our acquaintance.”
“Trust me, the man wishes to continue the acquaintance. I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at you.”
“I fear he is overly concerned about the differences in our social and financial stations.”
“Then it is up to you to convince him that you do not care a jot about those differences.” Amity paused. “Unless I am mistaken and they do matter to you?”
“No.” Penny turned around, her eyes wet with tears. “I don’t give a bloody damn about that sort of thing.”
Amity smiled and patted Penny’s arm. “I didn’t think so.”
“But how on earth can I explain that to John?”
Amity raised her brows. “John?”
Penny flushed. “That is his given name. It is how I think of him in my private thoughts.”
“Of course.” Amity reflected briefly. “I have a plan.”
Hope mingled with wariness in Penny’s eyes. She hesitated and then curiosity got the better of her. “Well? What is it?”
“I think it would be a very good idea to invite some of the people involved in this case to tea this afternoon. It seems to me that we all have a great deal to discuss and there are some questions I would like to ask the inspector in particular.”
Penny looked doubtful. “I’m not sure Inspector Logan is free to come to tea anymore. The demands of his job, you know.”
“Something tells me that the inspector is quite capable of coming up with an excuse to interview the witnesses in such an important case one more time. At the moment he is something of a hero at the Yard.”
“But what can I say to him that will let him know I wish to continue our association?”
“Why don’t you tell him that you were happy to be of service to Scotland Yard and that you stand ready to assist in future cases that involve suspects who move in Society?”
Mrs. Houston appeared in the doorway. She cleared her throat. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you’re welcome to tell him that I’d also be pleased to assist in future cases. Between the two of us it seems to me that we can cover everything from the kitchens to the bedrooms in Society.”
Penny was nonplussed for a moment. Then, slowly, she smiled. “What an excellent notion, Mrs. Houston.”
“But I’d suggest breakfast tomorrow morning rather than tea today,” Mrs. Houston said.
“Why is that?” Amity asked.
“Healthy gentlemen of the sort we’ve been entertaining of late prefer a hearty meal,” Mrs. Houston said. “Something about eggs and sausage and toast along with strong coffee puts them in a good mood.”
Forty-five
They gathered again for breakfast the following morning. Penny sat at the head of the table. Amity sat at the opposite end. Benedict, Logan and Declan were arranged at varying places in between. Amity noted that the three men had very nearly emptied the trays on the sideboard. The violent activities of recent days had certainly not put the gentlemen off their food, she thought.
“We have had the most wonderful news,” Penny announced with a flourish. “Mr. Galbraith, Amity’s publisher, is rushing her book into print. He says that all the publicity surrounding her will ensure excellent sales for A Lady’s Guide to Globetrotting.”
Benedict looked pleased. “Excellent news, indeed.”
Declan grinned. “Congratulations, Miss Doncaster.”
“I shall certainly purchase a copy,” Logan promised. “I hope you will sign it for me, Miss Doncaster?”
“With pleasure,” Amity said. “But tell me, what will happen to Humphrey Nash?”
“In an ideal world, Nash would stand trial on all manner of charges,” Logan said. “Con
spiracy, treason and murder, among other things.”
Amity put down her teacup. “In an ideal world?”
“What the inspector means is that there is nothing more the police can do,” Benedict explained. “Nash is under arrest but he has made it clear that he is willing to make a bargain.”
“What sort of bargain?” Penny asked.
“He claims he has a great deal of information to sell,” Benedict explained. “And evidently Uncle Cornelius is in the market for that information.”
Penny was outraged. “Do you mean to say that Nash will walk away from this a free man? That’s unacceptable. He murdered both Mrs. Dunning and Lady Penhurst. He set a trap designed to murder Amity and Mr. Stanbridge. Who knows how many others he killed along the way?”
Logan put down his fork and picked up his coffee cup. “Cornelius Stanbridge has assured me that the Russians take a dim view of agents who sell their secrets to others. If Nash is released he will find it necessary to go into hiding. At the very least he will certainly be forced to take on a new identity.”
“Huh.” Benedict looked thoughtful. “If he assumes a new identity he will no longer be able to sell his photographs under his own name.”
“In which case he will be obliged to start his career over again,” Amity said.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he turns up somewhere in the West,” Declan mused. “We do seem to attract a wide variety of people who are looking for new lives.”
Amity smiled at him. “Speaking of the American West, what of your own plans, sir?”
Declan smiled. “Odd that you should ask. I have been doing a great deal of thinking about my future lately. I have concluded that I’m not cut out for the oil business. But I took a great deal of satisfaction assisting Inspector Logan and the rest of you in your search for the Bridegroom. I’m considering establishing a private investigation business, headquartered in San Francisco. Perhaps in time I will offer my consulting services to the police.”
“Excellent notion,” Logan said. “One thing I discovered in the course of this case is that there may be something to be said for the use of the science of psychology in solving crimes.”
Amity looked at Declan. “What about your father?”
Declan straightened his shoulders and assumed an air of resolve. “I am going to tell him that I do not intend to take an active role in the family business and that I will be setting up my own firm instead.”
Benedict looked at him across the width of the table. “If it’s any comfort you will not be going home empty-handed.”
Declan frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s true that you did not manage to obtain Foxcroft’s notebook, but you can assure your father it doesn’t matter.”
Everyone looked at Benedict.
“Why doesn’t it matter that I failed?” Declan said.
“I had a long talk with Uncle Cornelius this morning,” Benedict said. “It turns out that the Russians are no longer interested in the potential of solar energy.”
“What on earth?” Amity exclaimed.
“There is even worse news,” Benedict said. “I have been informed that the Crown is no longer interested in solar energy, either. Even the French are abandoning that area of research.”
Logan frowned. “Canceled for lack of funding?”
“No,” Benedict said. “Lack of interest. Evidently the British government, the Russians, France and the Americans are coming to the conclusion that the future is in petroleum.” Benedict gave Declan a wry smile. “Your father may be right.”
Amity was the first to recover from the shock.
“Oh, for pity’s sake.” She crumpled her napkin and tossed it on the table. “After all we went through?”
“Trust me, I was no more pleased to learn that news than you are,” Benedict said. “But that is the way of all governments, I’m afraid. There is a strong tendency toward shortsightedness when it comes to planning for the future.”
Logan regarded him from across the table. “What will become of Foxcroft’s notebook?”
Benedict smiled slowly. “An interesting question. Uncle Cornelius and I discussed the subject at some length. Foxcroft gave the notebook to me to look after. With the Crown no longer interested in his work, Cornelius and I have concluded that the notebook should go into the Stanbridge family archives.”
Declan looked amused. “My father will be relieved to know that no one over here intends to waste any more time investigating the potential for solar energy.”
“Not now,” Benedict said. “But who knows what the future holds? Today we are concerned with the prospect of running out of coal. Perhaps one day we will have the same concerns about petroleum.”
Amity noticed that Logan was smiling to himself.
“Do you have something to add to the conversation, Inspector?” she asked.
Logan picked up his coffee cup. “I was just thinking that I may have made a good investment, after all, when I sank what was left of my father’s money into American oil stocks.” He looked at Declan. “Including Garraway Oil.”
There was an acute silence as everyone stared at Logan. Penny’s eyes sparkled with laughter.
“I suspect that will prove to be a brilliant move, Inspector,” she said. “I have made a few investments in that area myself.”
Amity smiled. “If Penny says that petroleum is a good investment, you can take that advice straight to the bank. My sister has a head for making money, Inspector.”
Benedict laughed. In a moment they were all laughing, including Mrs. Houston.
Amity fixed Benedict and Declan with what she hoped was a meaningful look. “If you two gentlemen will accompany me to the drawing room, there is something I would like to say to you both.”
Benedict frowned. “What?”
Declan looked bewildered. “Something wrong, Miss Doncaster?”
“I will explain in the drawing room,” she said, trying to put a not-so-subtle emphasis on each word. She could tell by Benedict’s expression that he was about to ask more questions. She got to her feet. “Now, if you don’t mind.”
At the sight of her out of the chair all three men hastily rose. She smiled benignly at Logan. “Why don’t you stay here and chat with Penny while I talk to Benedict and Declan.”
She whisked up the skirts of her gown and went toward the door of the morning room. Benedict and Declan obediently trooped after her.
When they reached the drawing room, she closed the door and whirled around to confront her audience of two.
“What the devil is this about, Amity?” Benedict asked.
“My sister and Inspector Logan require a few minutes alone,” she said. She brushed her palms together. “The three of us have just provided that for them.”
Declan’s expression cleared. He chuckled and looked at Benedict.
“I believe this is about romance, sir,” he explained.
Benedict stared at him. “What romance?”
“The one that is blooming between Penny and the inspector,” Amity said, striving for patience.
“Ah, that romance.” Benedict smiled a self-satisfied smile. “No need to worry on that front. I took care of everything.”
Amity stared at him, dumbfounded. “And just how did you do that?”
“Very simple. Logan and I drank some brandy together and formulated a few plans. He is no doubt inviting Penny out for a walk in the park as we speak.”
“I’m impressed,” she said. “That was brilliant, Benedict.”
“I thought so,” he said. “Now, if Declan will excuse us, I would like to proceed with my own plans for the day.”
Declan grinned and made a show of taking out his pocket watch. “Would you look at the time? I must get a telegram off to my father letting him know he need no longer worry that solar energy will be
competing with oil any time soon. After that I must pack for the voyage home. Don’t worry, Miss Doncaster, I’ll see myself out.”
“Good-bye, Mr. Garraway,” Amity said.
But she did not look at him. She could not seem to take her eyes off Benedict, who was gazing at her with an intensity that riveted her senses.
Declan opened the door and moved out into the hall.
“Amity,” Benedict began, “l wish to speak to you about last night.”
Mrs. Houston’s heavy footsteps sounded in the hall.
“Don’t forget your bonnet, ma’am,” Mrs. Houston said, uncharacteristically cheerful. “And a parasol. Too much sun isn’t good for the complexion.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Houston,” Penny said.
Amity turned and saw a brightly flushed Penny and a smiling Inspector Logan.
“Where are you going?” Amity asked.
Penny’s blush deepened. Happiness brightened her eyes. “John has been given the entire morning to conclude interviews with all the witnesses in the Bridegroom case. He and I are going for a walk in the park.”
“Nothing like fresh air and sunshine to clarify a witness’s recollections,” Logan said.
Mrs. Houston opened the front door with a bit of a flourish. Penny and Logan went down the front steps and out into the sunshine.
Mrs. Houston closed the door and looked at Amity and Benedict.
“A lovely couple, don’t you think?” she said. She sounded quite satisfied.
“Yes,” Amity said. She smiled. “A lovely couple, indeed.”
“It’s about time Mrs. Marsden found a spot of happiness,” Mrs. Houston said. She stopped smiling and glared at Benedict. “And what about you, sir? Are you just going to stand there like a very large frog on a log?”
Benedict blinked and then frowned. “A frog on a log?”
“I think you take my meaning, sir.”
Benedict’s expression cleared. “Right. As it happens, Mrs. Houston, I was just about to ask Amity to join me for a drive.”
“Were you, indeed?” Amity asked.
“The day is very fine and I happen to have a carriage waiting in the street,” he said. “All part of the plan, you see. Will you come with me?”