Twenty-one

SHE WOULD NOT GIVE IN TO THE MADNESS THAT nibbled at the edge of her sanity. She fought it with all of her will, calling on every scrap of mesmeric training that her parents had bequeathed to her in order to do battle with the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

She wondered if this was the true meaning of female hysteria.

Time passed. She had no way to measure it. Perhaps it was just as well. Counting the seconds, the minutes, and the hours would only make it so much worse.

She sat on the cold stone floor of the coffinlike chamber, clutching the silver pendant in both hands and focusing her concentration. With painstaking effort she built a fragile fortress of calm in the deepest reaches of her mind, a place of peace and tranquillity. When it was prepared, she stepped inside, pulling her besieged nerves in with her.

And then she shut the metaphysical door against the weight of the crushing, breath-stealing night that surrounded her.

She clung to the single certainty that was the foundation upon which she had constructed her inner refuge. That one sure fact was the knowledge that sooner or later Tobias would come to free her.

 

“BLOODY HELL, WHERE DID SHE GO?” TOBIAS strode down the hallway to Lavinia’s cozy study, threw open the door, and swept the room with a raking glance. “She has no business disappearing like this.”

Anthony came to a halt beside him. “Perhaps she is merely late returning from some shopping.”

Tobias looked at Mrs. Chilton, who hovered in the hallway. “Did Mrs. Lake go shopping this afternoon?”

“I don’t know, sir.” Mrs. Chilton sighed. “All I can tell ye is that when I got back from the fishmonger’s, she was gone.”

Tobias went to the desk and surveyed the cluttered surface. “From now on there are going to be some new rules around here. When we are in the middle of a case, Mrs. Lake will not go anywhere without first informing someone of her destination and the precise time she expects to return home.”

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Chilton watched unhappily as Tobias methodically sifted through the items and papers scattered atop the desk. “I really don’t think Mrs. Lake will take well to the notion of more rules, if you’ll pardon me saying so, sir. She’s already a trifle put out by all the instructions and orders that seem to be floating about these days.”

“A trifle put out is nothing compared to my own mood at the moment.” Tobias glanced at the notes on one of the sheets of foolscap. “What’s this? Complete discretion is assured for those clients concerned with matters of privacy and secrecy.”

“I believe Mrs. Lake is still working on the wording of the notice she intends to put into the newspapers,” Mrs. Chilton said.

“She plans to advertise her services in the newspapers?” Anthony’s expression lit with interest. “I say, that is an excellent notion. Should have thought of it ourselves, Tobias. A very modern approach to the business, eh?”

“I told her to abandon the entire idea. She is too stubborn to listen to sound advice.” With a flick of his hand, Tobias sent the sheet of paper sailing into the small wooden trash bin behind the desk. “I warned her of the sort of clients she would attract with that method. She would do better to—” He broke off at the sight of a wadded-up bit of paper in the basket. “Hmm.”

He reached down, scooped up the crumpled note, and smoothed it out carefully on top of the desk.

“What is it?” Anthony asked, moving toward the desk.

“What we in the profession like to call a clue,” Tobias muttered.

Mrs. Chilton was suitably impressed. “Ye know where Mrs. Lake went this afternoon?”

“I suspect that she went out in response to this note from Edmund Tredlow. Obviously she lacked the common courtesy to leave a message telling anyone where she was going.” He crumpled the note in his hand. She was all right. Nothing was wrong. Just his damned nerves playing up. “Of all the thoughtless, graceless, careless things to do. I shall have a word with her about such behavior.”

Mrs. Chilton gave him an uneasy look. “Sir, I feel I ought to point out that Mrs. Lake has been in the habit of coming and going as she pleases for some time now. Indeed, she is the mistress around here and she makes her own rules for this household. I don’t recommend that ye continue to issue commands and orders about all manner of things the way ye’ve been doing of late.”

“I disagree, Mrs. Chilton.” He went toward the door. “Strict new rules are precisely what is needed around here. It is high time that someone took charge of this household.”

Mrs. Chilton fell back out of his path. “Where are ye going, sir?”

“To find Mrs. Lake and inform her of the new rules.”

 

BUT WHEN HE OPENED THE DOOR OF TREDLOW’S shop a short time later, he put aside all thoughts of the stern lecture he intended to deliver. The faint dread that had been chewing up his innards for the past hour or so had not been merely an attack of weak nerves, after all.

“Lavinia.” He hoisted the small lantern he had brought with him and watched the light flare on the stone and bronze statuary. “Damn it, where the devil are you?”

There was no response from the deep shadows.

Anthony stopped in the middle of the crowded showroom and looked around with a baffled frown. “Tredlow must have closed for the night. Surprised he forgot to lock his door, though. Cannot imagine a shopkeeper overlooking such a simple precaution.”

“Neither can I,” Tobias said grimly.

“Perhaps she left before we arrived,” Anthony said. “We may have gone straight past her without knowing it on our way here. She is no doubt home having a cup of tea as we speak.”

“No.”

Tobias did not know how he could be so certain of that, but he was very sure of it. The sense of wrongness here at Tredlow’s was palpable now.

He went behind the counter, intending to take the stairs to the rooms overhead. But he paused when he noticed the heavy curtain that divided the front and rear portions of the shop.

He shoved aside the thick drapery and held the lantern aloft to illuminate a maze of crates, boxes, chests, and statuary.

“Lavinia.”

There was a terrible hush. And then a muffled pounding sounded from somewhere at the back of the cluttered room. The noise echoed in the chamber in such a manner that it was difficult to tell where it was coming from.

“Hell’s teeth.” Tobias started forward, seeking a path through the looming antiquities. “She’s in here somewhere. There are some candles on that table. Take one and search the far side of the room. I’ll take this side.”

Anthony scooped up a taper, lit it, and forged a path through the nearest aisle of crates.

The heavy thuds reverberated again through the storage room.

“I’m here, Lavinia.” Tobias wove a trail through a herd of centaurs. “Keep pounding, damn it.”

He went past a hideous statue of Perseus holding the severed head of Medusa and saw an ancient iron-and-oak door. Some sort of small storeroom, he thought.

Another flood of pounding thudded through the heavy wooden panels.

“I’ve found her,” he called to Anthony.

He set the lantern down amid a cluster of broken pots on a cracked stone altar and examined the iron lock on the door.

“Let me out of here,” Lavinia shouted through the wood.

“Got any notion of what happened to the key?” he called back.

“No.”

Anthony crashed through a row of vases and stopped in front of the door. “Locked?”

“Of course.” Tobias reached into the pocket of his greatcoat and took out the selection of picks he always carried whenever he was pursuing a case. “She wouldn’t be trapped inside if it were unlocked, would she?”

Anthony raised his brows at the brusque words, but he kept his own tone even, almost mild. “Wonder how she came to be inside in the first place?”

“An excellent question.” Tobias went to work with one of the picks. The iron lock was imposing in size, but it was old-fashioned and uncomplicated in design. He prodded the tumblers very gently. “One I intend to ask at the earliest opportunity.”

The lock gave a moment later. The heavy door opened with a rusty groan that could have come from the depths of a tomb.

“Tobias.”

Lavinia exploded out of the darkness. He scooped her up into his arms and cradled her close and tight against his chest. She pressed her face into the fabric of his greatcoat. He felt her shudder in his arms.

“Are you all right? Lavinia, answer me. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” The word was muffled against his coat. “I knew you’d come. I knew it.”

Anthony gazed into the small chamber with a grim expression. “It must have been quite dreadful for you in there, Mrs. Lake.”

Lavinia said nothing. Tobias felt shiver after shiver sweep through her. He stroked the length of her spine with his palm and looked past her into the tiny room. It reminded him of an upright coffin. Anger knifed through him.

“What happened?” he asked. “Who imprisoned you in that place?”

“Someone was here when I arrived. Searching the rooms upstairs. I hid in there when he came down the steps. He saw me. Locked the door.” She suddenly stiffened, gasped, and pushed herself slightly away from him. “Dear God, Mr. Tredlow.”

“What about him?”

Clutching his shoulders, she turned partway around in his arms, searching the gloom with anxious eyes. “I found bloodstains on the floor over there. I think the intruder murdered him and hid the body in one of the sarcophagi. Poor Mr. Tredlow. And it is all my fault, Tobias. I should never have asked him to assist in the investigation. I cannot bear to contemplate—”

“Hush.” He eased her slowly to her feet. “Let us see precisely what we are dealing with here before we concern ourselves with responsibility and recriminations.” He picked up the lantern. “Show me the bloodstains.”

She walked to the figure of Perseus holding the Medusa head and pointed toward the floor. “There. See? They lead straight to that coffin.”

Tobias assessed the carved stone sarcophagus. “Fortunately, it is not one of the more ornate types decorated with a heavy stone carving. We should have no trouble with the lid. Clearly, whoever stuck Tredlow inside managed to move it easily enough.”

“I’ll help you,” Anthony said.

Together they leaned into the task. The heavy stone shifted readily enough under their combined weight. One man could, indeed, have managed the business, assuming that the lid had originally been sitting crosswise atop the box, Tobias thought.

Stone scraped on stone, a grinding protest that set his teeth on edge. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lavinia flinch at the sound. But she did not retreat from whatever was about to be revealed. He had not expected that she would. In the entire time he had known her, he had never seen her back away from anything, no matter how unpleasant. Some would say that she lacked the sort of delicate sensibilities Society deemed appropriate to a lady. But he knew the truth. She was a lot like him when it came to dealing with problems and challenges. She faced them head-on.

The stone lid shrieked hollowly again and finally moved far enough across the top of the box to reveal a section of the dark interior.

The body of a man loomed in the opening. He lay facedown, crumpled in a horrifyingly careless manner. It looked as though someone had simply dumped him into the sarcophagus.

The lantern light flared on scraggly gray hair matted with blood. There was more blood on Tredlow’s coat. A small pool of the stuff had formed on the bottom of the coffin.

Tobias reached into the box to search for a pulse.

“Poor Mr. Tredlow.” Lavinia stepped closer. “Dear heaven. It is just as I feared. The intruder murdered him. And all because I asked him to keep me informed.”

Anthony watched Tobias feel for signs of life. He swallowed heavily. “Must have struck him on the back of his head and stuck him in here to hide the body.”

“The killer obviously wanted to conceal the crime, and he almost succeeded,” Lavinia whispered. “It could have been weeks or even months before the body was found. Indeed, if I hadn’t received Mr. Tredlow’s message this afternoon, I would never have thought to look for him back here in this storeroom. If only I had arrived earlier, I might have—”

“Enough.” Tobias took his fingers off the victim’s throat. “For better or worse, you did receive the message.” He gripped the edge of the sarcophagus lid again and shoved hard to angle it farther out of the way. “From Tredlow’s point of view, it is just as well that you got here when you did.”

“Why do you say that?” Anthony asked.

“Because he is still alive.”