CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Marie

WEDNESDAY MORNING AFTER reading the letter from Regington to Cavendish that Harriet had slipped under her door the night before, Marie sat down at her desk to write the three letters designed to put in motion her plan.

My Dearest,
You need to come quickly. Elanor is being moved into the tower and locked up. I fear that the duke in his madness is going to destroy her completely, ruining my plans for my own success. He has a secret, which I now must tell you. I made her, Elanor, according to his drawings, his specifications. But what I didn’t tell you, couldn’t tell you until now, is that I feel sure he murdered her, the original living girl. He has been consumed with guilt the remainder of his life, which is why I mistakenly thought he wanted me to create a new girl, to make amends for the life he took. But it appears this is not true. I fear he has become consumed with wicked intent on the second as he did the first. He is possessed by a delirium of the brain or perhaps even something demonic. In order for us to enact our plan of me breaking with Philidor and having my own show, we must act at once. You must come, tonight, at nine with the carriage. I will let you in and take you up the tower to get Elanor.

Then I will join you soon after you return to Baker Street. Leave the door unlocked for me – but love, you must be punctual to the minute.

Marie.

Dear Mrs Druce,
You have been most grievously deceived about the death of your previous lodger. Be on the lookout this evening at your window from midnight. If you do as I say, an opportunity will present itself for you to benefit financially if you use what you see in a clever manner. Leave the street door unlocked but do not open your own door until you are certain the rooms above yours are completely empty.

Lastly, Marie took the gold tobacco box from its hiding place under her bed and set it before her.

I have taken the girl. A shame you were so careless with your greatest trick, but then again I was always smarter than you. I have a proposal that will be mutually beneficial. If you come to my new lodgings at Baker Street, which I understand are your previous lodgings, at half past midnight, we will discuss it in person. No tricks, Philidor – I do not think you want to jeopardise your wellbeing or that of your creation.

After completing and dealing with these letters she would visit Elanor and clip a chain with Philidor’s diamond ring on it around her neck. She would then wait for the appointed time the valet had requested another meeting with her, before receiving Regington and his carriage at the back of the property to take Elanor. At the designated hour, the next part of the plan was to spur Philidor into action by showing him the empty tower and finally raise the duke from his slumber to ride out into the night. Already dressed for the occasion she would then swiftly follow them, having organised through Harriet for the fastest horse and carriage from the village to be paid handsomely to pick her up from beyond the front gates. She would watch as the tinder she had so carefully constructed blew up into a flame. What she would do then depended on who remained after it all.

Elanor’s safety had to be sacrificed for now, in order for the plan to succeed.

Cavendish’s father, Marie mused as she sat in the back of the carriage with no company but her own thoughts. It was his father who had killed Elanor. Whose portrait had been tampered with. Did that change anything? Did she regret her assumptions, her actions?

She had recalculated all that she thought she knew before her carriage pulled up around the corner of Baker Street. She blinked once, hard; she was ready. The driver would wait for her return.

It was just after midnight as she slipped along Baker Street, moving from one doorway to the next until she stood opposite her old lodgings. A light burned from within each first-floor window, and she knew that Pinetti waited, with Elanor, for her arrival. Druce’s ground-floor window was covered but also lit from within; she was awake and no doubt alert.

First to arrive was Philidor, dressed grandly as always and nervously fingering the pistol in his pocket. A stupid man whose aim was probably as deplorable as his stupid card tricks. But never mind, he would be in close proximity to Pinetti.

The ground-floor curtains twitched. Druce’s light went out, and her outline appeared at the window. She couldn’t resist an intrigue.

Philidor was oblivious to his watchers as he tried the front doorhandle. It opened – he started for a moment, then entered, closing the door behind him.

Not a minute later, Cavendish arrived, alighted and hurried past Druce, whose curtain stretched wider. She was getting a show, that much was certain. Although Cavendish had no weapon, he carried a bundled-up sack: the stipulated amount and more besides, Marie guessed. Excellent.

He too entered, leaving the front door open so she could see up the staircase. She wet her lips in anticipation.

But Druce’s curtain had closed over. What was she doing? Of course – there she was now, the light spilling from her doorway into the stairwell as she crept up the steps to listen. Very well then. Even better.

Then there, up there at the parlour window, silhouettes began to move, and in the summer humidity Philidor had already thrown open the window, and the voices swept towards her in harsh snatches across the street. She stepped down into the gutter to hear better, then crossed the road to stand underneath the flat. She blended in with the shadows, oblivious to the filth at her feet.

‘How did you find me?’ came Pinetti’s voice.

‘You told me where to find you, and what is this, boxes packed? Going somewhere?’

‘Quiet, someone on the stairs,’ said Pinetti. Marie stepped closer.

‘Who are you?’ said Philidor.

A rumble.

‘Cavendish?’ Philidor’s voice again.

‘He also likes to be called Thomas Charles,’ Pinetti said.

A mumble from Cavendish, then Pinetti’s voice lowered in return. A rush of words Marie couldn’t discern.

‘You’re mad, Pinetti!’ came Philidor’s cry. ‘You think Cavendish has been leading a double life? The fellow can’t even leave the house. This is another of your tricks. I don’t know how you got him involved in this, but you’re not taking that money or Elanor.’

‘I didn’t steal her in the first place, you dolt, if you’d only listen —’

‘Now you lie again. Don’t you want the credit for taking my gold tobacco box as well?’

‘What would I want with a trinket like that when I have my rings? They were the better present from Catherine, in any case.’

‘You didn’t take the box?’

‘No, I —’

‘Heavens above, Elanor’s wearing my ring! How dare you.’

‘Stop it, you’re hurting her,’ came Cavendish’s cry. ‘Release her hand immediately.’

‘I’m not, you fool – not like you intended to use her, I’m sure, tucked up in that tower. What the hell were you planning? I’ll care for —’ said Philidor.

‘Stop it, Philidor. You’re making a fool of yourself with your romantic notions. Care for her? Brother, are you just as mad as him?’

Further confirmation of the fact Pinetti and Philidor were brothers. Yes, their rivalry had always seemed to her more than superficial.

‘Don’t call me “brother” – you forfeited that title long ago. You forget that I know you for the sneaking rat that you are. You stole my box and my creation, and now you put my ring on her to gloat.’

‘Wrong on all counts. I’m trying to tell you, I was instructed to take her.’

‘By whom?’

‘The woman, Marie – she’s besotted with me. She’s played right into my hands to give me the creature.’

‘You idiot. You cannot see her hand behind all this for spite of me. She’s mad! She thinks the creature is alive as well.’

A mumble from Cavendish that was ignored.

‘I know that, of course I know that,’ said Pinetti to Philidor. ‘You think I play along with it all without knowing? I have entertained her fancies for my own ends. The creature may not be alive but she’s still a wonder. In fact I must congratulate you on your efforts, she’s indeed more magnificent than any peacock I could construct. What I could do with her.’

‘You will do nothing. She’s mine, and I’m taking her back. I’ve had enough of you trying to outdo me. You obviously thought you could blackmail us both, eh? You’ve gone too far.’

A pause, and Marie imagined Philidor drawing his pistol.

‘Put it away and listen to me, Philidor. I didn’t invite Cavendish here either. I know nothing about either one of you coming or the box or your stupid ring. Elanor was already wearing it when I picked her up. Marie told me to bring her here and that she would arrive soon after, but instead I get you two – a poor surprise, I can tell you,’ said Pinetti, his voice higher than usual.

Marie smiled; the pistol must be upon him.

‘Don’t be so foolish,’ said Pinetti, lowering his voice as if affecting calm. ‘Listen, I was going to leave Marie, run away with the creature and humiliate you like you did me, I admit it, but why don’t we put all this aside and join together? Take this creature and make our own show … Pinetti and Philidor’s —’

‘You put yourself first again. Nothing has changed. Even now, you still think you are above me.’

Did she hear a click as if the pistol was cocked?

‘We can make him pay as well, just as I intended,’ said Pinetti. ‘Now that we know the grand Duke of Portland is Thomas Charles, he can fund our whole show. Look at the money the madman is prepared to hand over for the wax doll, good heav—’

‘Stop,’ said Philidor. ‘Cavendish can be used for my benefit still. But you, Pinetti, are now superfluous.’

‘You’re a coward,’ Pinetti snarled. ‘You won’t do it, you’ll just run away as usual.’

‘Don’t goad me. You don’t have our father to protect you now.’

A harsh laugh from Pinetti, a gasp from Cavendish, then a shot cleaved through the night, followed by a man’s hoarse cry.

Excellent. One down. Now what?

Cavendish cried, ‘Another murder, another shot, another murder, another shot’, then his voice sank into gibberish.

‘I told you not to goad me,’ came Philidor’s voice. ‘Now, you’re coming with me,’ he said, obviously to Elanor, and grunted as if he was picking her up. ‘I’ll relieve you of that money, Your Grace or Thomas Charles or whoever you are, and you’d best not try and stop me.’

Marie imagined Cavendish handing it over submissively.

Druce scampered down the stairs, and her door slammed shut. When Marie moved to stand by the front door in the shadows, she saw Druce back at her front window not a moment later. Then quiet for a heartbeat, before Philidor stumbled out the front door oblivious to her, with Elanor in his arms.

But then, bang, gunfire from the stairs. Philidor fell forward on his face, dropping Elanor. He had been shot in the back by the wounded Pinetti, who then slid down onto the landing.

Marie took a step back as she heard Cavendish clatter down the steps over Pinetti and then step around Philidor’s body. He picked up Elanor with surprising strength. ‘Come with me, my dear. Quickly, before we are seen.’ He deposited her in his waiting carriage then climbed up himself, blinds drawn, and took off.

Druce had seen it all.

Marie stayed where she was for another moment. A baby’s cry – woken by the gunshots, no doubt. Druce moved away from the window, while Marie moved to study Philidor, facedown in his blood on the street, the bag of money still at his side. She took the bag and climbed the steps to Pinetti on the landing. He was grievously injured but just alive. She pulled hard upon the chain around his neck that held the rings; it broke, and she dropped it into her reticule. Ignoring his moans she entered her former rooms, glanced around the parlour and saw his desk with his letters and books. The letters she had sent him were amongst the papers. She folded these and put them in her skirt pocket as well. It was hardly a surprise to find other letters, evidence of a number of intrigues he’d been carrying out with two married women, independent of each other. Well, she had never allowed herself to properly care for him anyway – despite what her body desired, and despite what he’d thought.

She slipped her letter and drawing to Druce in an envelope under the landlady’s door, then met her carriage and headed back to Welbeck for the final part of her plan. She knew Druce wouldn’t be able to help herself: very soon she would open her door, read the letter and call the authorities. Marie was counting on it.