The British Museum in Bloomsbury—an area of London I once deemed a foreign country—held a fair-sized crowd of people that afternoon. I strolled through the first floor, gazing at old books and manuscripts, then made my way through the section on natural history, and finally climbed the stairs to the second floor, which housed Roman antiquities.
I glanced at my pocketwatch, noting it was almost three, when finally I saw her. Oddly enough, I felt not a flicker of unease in the presence of this murderess.
“I knew you would come,” I told her.
“There vas nothing else I could do after vhat you said to her Royal Highness today. The strain has been unbearable, but your saying you vould confess to the murders was vhat broke me. Vould you really have gone to Bow Street and confessed?”
“I would have gone to Bow Street, yes, Ulga.”
“You love her too. Vhy did you scare her like that, telling her you vould sacrifice yourself for her?”
“Because I could think of no other way to make you come and tell me that you had killed Lord Kendrick and Roger Cranworth. Besides, I was not absolutely certain, and I have been known to be wrong before.”
“You vere not mistaken. I killed both of them. They had to die. They threatened my mistress. Do you realise how long I have known her Royal Highness?”
I offered her my arm, and we began to walk towards a display of Roman coins. “Tell me.”
“Since the day her mother gave birth to her. I vas her Majesty’s personal maidservant. Only vhen the princess vas to ved the Royal Duke from England did I become her maid.”
“Over fourteen years ago, then.”
She nodded. “Before I left Prussia, the old King made me promise to alvays take care of his daughter, to see that no harm came to her.”
“And you did your duty well for a long time. Then Lord Kendrick got hold of that letter. I am sorry I kept it, Ulga.”
“You should be!” she exclaimed, then lowered her voice. “I have been happy that her Royal Highness has had you for companionship. She is married to a man who does not love her. But sometimes I feared that she vould give in to the feelings she has for you and act imprudently.”
“That has never been the case. The one kiss you saw was the only time, and it was not supposed to happen. But why, Ulga, why did you feel you had to kill Lord Kendrick?”
“He vas an evil man! I heard in the neighbourhood that he had killed his own father. Once that man had her letter to you, I knew he vould never leave my little Duchess alone. I vas vorried that night and could not sleep. I looked out my vindow and saw him staggering near the dogs’ cemetery. He had been up all night drinking. Celebrating my mistress’s sorrow and planning how to use her.” Ulga’s eyes glittered. “I dressed, I don’t know vhat I thought I vould do. I vent outside and tried to talk to him, but he laughed at me. He said he had no use of another maid that night and that I vas too old anyway, as if I had offered myself to him.”
“He had forced himself on Cook’s niece.”
She nodded. “An evil man, I tell you. I hated him so much in that moment. I thrust my hands into the pocket of my dress and discovered the hair ornaments that Signor Tallarico had given the Royal Duchess. She had left them in the drawing room. I had picked them up and meant to put them away, but forgot.”
The Prussian maid was growing more agitated. I guided her over to a display of Herculanean armour. “I wager it happened very fast.”
“I hardly remember doing it. My hand grasped the sharp length of jet. I struck out at him. He made a terrible sound in his throat, then fell to the ground.”
I offered her my handkerchief. She efficiently dried her eyes. “The sun vas coming up. I tried to dig a grave. I had the thought in my mind that no one vould find him. I vent inside and put the other hair ornament back in the drawing room.”
“But then Phanor died and Old Dawe went out to the dogs’ cemetery.”
“Yes. I never meant to give Mr. Dawe such a shock.”
“No.” I drew a deep breath. God help me but I felt sorry for Ulga.
“I thought it vould all be over. But, the Royal Duchess hired Mr. Lavender, and you could not find the letter. Instead, that other evil man, Roger Cranworth, sends my mistress a message telling her he has something that belonged to her. He vas going to take up vhere the marquess left off!” Ulga’s face was the picture of outrage.
“So down in the servants’ hall at Syon House, you prepared a special drink for him. You waited outside the passageway for him to come by, looking for Freddie. When he passed you, you stepped forward and offered him a glass of wine.”
She cried silent tears. “Yes. I told him I vould take a message to the Royal Duchess about vhere to meet him. He said he had already sent a footman. But he took the glass and drank the contents in front of me. Stupid man. Only I turned out to be the stupid one. I thought he vould die immediately, but the poison did not vork right avay.” Ulga’s face twisted with horror. “My poor little lady, having that man die in front of her. I failed to protect her, Mr. Brummell. Even after everything I did, the vhispers had started. I have not kept my promise to the old King. How can I keep my lady from ruin now?”
“Listen to me, Ulga,” I said urgently, my eyes intent on hers. “This is what we are going to do. You must return to Prussia. I have money and will book you passage on the next ship. I have already written a letter for you to carry to Freddie’s brother, the new King of Prussia. I have told him what you have done, and that you acted in extraordinary circumstances to protect his sister. He will have to decide your fate. I have begged for his leniency.”
“But vhat vill you tell that Mr. Lavender?”
“I have written another letter. I copied Roger Cranworth’s handwriting. When Roger’s body was found, Victor Tallarico raised the question of suicide, giving me the idea. In the letter I wrote in Roger’s handwriting, Roger confesses to killing Lord Kendrick, then taking poison himself. He says he intends to enjoy one last evening of revelry then the poison will act and he will die. Everyone will assume he misjudged the timing of the drug. Roger Cranworth is guilty of another murder, his accomplice, Neal, so I do not feel it wrong of me to make him take the blame for Lord Kendrick’s death.”
Ulga thought hard. “Vhat about the letter the Royal Duchess vrote you?”
“I obtained it after I left the Palace,” I lied, wanting to get her out of England without delay. I would have it soon enough.
Ulga breathed a sigh of intense relief. “So my Royal Duchess vill not have the scandal.”
“No.”
“Except from vhat I have done.”
“No, because you will go to Prussia and allow the King to decide your fate there. That is our best chance of keeping what you have done from being made public here in England. Now, I have brought paper and pen so you can write Freddie a letter. Tell her you have been dreadfully homesick and must return to Prussia. Tell her you could not bear to part with her in person. Afterwards, I shall escort you straight to the docks.” I opened my coat to extract the needed items. My fingers were shaking, though, for despite my sympathy for Ulga, she was guilty of murder. I hoped I was doing the right thing by sending her back to Prussia where she would have to accept responsibility for her actions.
The paper and pen finally in hand, I looked up.
Ulga was no longer at my side.
Instead, she stood by one of the tall, open windows by a statue of Caesar.
Her eyes met mine. In a flash I knew her intentions.
“No!” I yelled, bumping a museum guard in my haste to get to Ulga, and bolting across the room.
Too late. Pretending to slip, Ulga let her body fall from the open window to the stone pavement below.
People screamed. I ran through the horrified museum-goers, down the stairs and outside where a crowd had already gathered around the older woman’s body. I pushed through to where she laid, a miniature of Freddie as a young girl clasped in one fist, my handkerchief in the other.
Slowly, with great regret, I removed the items from her hands.
The constables came in due course, along with a wagon to remove Ulga’s body. The museum guard told the constables how I had dashed across the room and tried to save the woman. When I identified Ulga as maid to the Royal Duchess, one of the constables said that, in that case, Mr. Lavender must be notified.
That would make my task of getting the letter easier, but how I wished it had not turned out this way.
* * * *
Standing at the back, private entrance to Mr. Lavender’s lodgings above Kint’s Chop House, I used my dog’s head stick to knock on the door. As I suspected and, indeed, hoped for, no one answered. Miss Lavender would be at her shelter at this time of day. I had thought Mr. Lavender would be somewhere going about Bow Street work. Now I knew he was most likely at the British Museum asking questions. He would seek me out soon enough.
You may be wondering why I was so sure that Mr. Lavender would have Freddie’s letter at his house. Well, my reasoning went like this: By now, the Scotsman had most likely discerned that Freddie’s letter had been the cause of two deaths. A wise man would not carry such a deadly piece of paper on his person. That left him with two choices, either Bow Street or his residence. Because of the depth of scandal that letter could cause, I was banking on the latter.
For someone who worked against criminals, Mr. Lavender had a remarkably flimsy lock on his door. Either that, or I was getting better at breaking into people’s rooms. Unfortunately I was not that good and ended up breaking off a bit of wood and a tiny piece of metal. Mr. Lavender would have to have the lock replaced.
I entered silently and scanned the room. Prior visits to the premises told me there was a small parlor, kitchen, and probably two bedrooms.
I moved in the direction of the nearest bedroom. All of a sudden Miss Lavender appeared in front of me, clad only in her shift, a pistol in her hand.
I could not have been more surprised if Prinny announced his intention of becoming a monk. “Good God, Miss Lavender! Are you going to shoot me?”
She tossed her dark red hair which hung down her back. “Should I? You’ve broken in here like a criminal.”
“I beg your pardon. I did knock first.”
She put the gun down on a table and rubbed her temples. “That’s your excuse? Oh, don’t bother to lie. I’ve had a terrible headache. Father came home in a rare temper last night, waving a letter and ranting about you. He gave me a severe set-down over my appearance at the Grand Masquerade and demanded that I never see you again.”
“Ah, as to that letter—”
She crossed her arms in front of her, seeming to realise for the first time the state of her undress. “Father didn’t let me see it, but I read it after he left for Bow Street this morning.”
“Of course you did.”
“Are you her Royal Highness’s lover?”
“You are an impertinent girl.”
“A girl waiting for an answer.”
“No, I am not. Nor have I ever been,” I added, anticipating her next question. “And that is all the explanation I shall give.”
She considered this. “Father doesn’t really believe that you or the Royal Duchess had anything to do with those killings.”
“I am gratified to hear it.”
“Why have you gone to the extreme measure of breaking into a Bow Street investigator’s house? To steal the Royal Duchess’s letter?”
“I prefer to think of it as retrieving stolen, personal property. In point of fact, I have another letter which will explain all. I plan on giving it to your father at the first opportunity.”
Miss Lavender glanced at the clock. “That should be any minute now. Father told me he’d be home between five and half past.”
“I do not think so—” I broke off, the sound of footsteps coming up the outside stairs reaching my ears. My gaze flew to Miss Lavender’s.
She said, “Is the Royal Duchess’s letter necessary to a criminal investigation?”
“No,” I stated flatly.
She bit her lip, then said, “I’ve been asleep all afternoon. I never heard an intruder. Her letter is in the left-hand drawer of the desk. Meet me at the Opera House tonight.”
With that, she hurried back to the bedroom.
I darted over to the desk and opened the drawer.
There was Freddie’s letter.
I grabbed it and dashed to the other entrance of the lodgings, the one that led to the stairway of Kint’s Chop House. Just as I heard a Scottish curse coming from the back door, I opened the front door and raced down the steps to the eating establishment. I had never been inside there. I looked to see only dark wooden tables and a long, empty bar. At the opposite end of the chop house, miracle of miracles, a small fire burned.
I swept across the room, tossed the letter onto the fire and stood back watching the vellum become ash.
“I’ll thrash you for this, Mr. Brummell,” a voice with a Scottish burr came from behind me.
I turned with the hint of a smile on my face. “Why, Mr. Lavender, what a surprise. I was just going to step above stairs and ask you to join me for a drink. I have a letter I think you will find solves all your problems.”