"Miss Tallent?" There was laughter in Appleby's voice. "That was such a farce, with her stumbling on the body and then Cynster coming in and the halberd falling. I was so strung up I nearly laughed aloud. I saw her notice the hat, but then she bolted. When I left the house, hat and identity still concealed, I knew that no matter what happened, no matter what hurdles appeared, I was meant, in the end, to have that painting. I'd be able to live like I was meant to live-in reasonable comfort, like a gentleman."

"So why go after Phyllida?" Jonas asked.

"She came back for the hat."

Phyllida turned to stare at Appleby. He smiled, tightly. "I was in the hall when you asked Bristleford about the hat. You hadn't forgotten it-you weren't going to forget it."

"But I didn't know whose it was."

"I could hardly rely on your faulty memory continuing faulty. You'd seen me often enough wearing the wretched thing-it was the only hat I had. Of course, with Cynster here to fill your eyes and your mind, you were distracted enough not to remember, but you might have at any time."

Lucifer caught Phyllida's eye and frowned-she shut her lips on the information that she'd never noticed Appleby enough to remember his hat. She turned back to the bookshelves.

"I'd got rid of the hat immediately, of course. I stuffed it in a hedge at the back of Ballyclose. Later, I got to thinking, so I went back to find it and burn it, but it was gone. I assumed some tramp had taken it. I thought I was safe, or would be once I ensured Miss Tallent didn't remember whose hat it was."

"So you tried to shoot her."

"Yes." Appleby's voice tensed. "Then I tried to strangle her. All that did was make Cynster keep a closer watch on her, but I hoped it was also frightening her enough to keep her from remembering me. I tried to get at her again during the Ballyclose ball-I suspected she might search Cedric's hats. My plan didn't work, but then… she got me to walk out onto the terrace and around the corner with her, asking after Cedric… I could hardly believe my luck. I almost strangled her and hid the body in the bushes, but people might have seen us leave the ballroom together. Then Cynster arrived. I had to watch her walk away again."

Phyllida glanced, briefly, at Lucifer.

"Then she found the hat. Worse, she took it to Cedric. If I didn't act immediately, I'd be found out. So I wrote the note from Molly, knocked Phyllida out, and set the fire.

"The hat burned, Phyllida didn't." Appleby's tone was terse. "I gave up trying to kill her. At least the hat was gone-she had no proof to connect me with anything. But you'd put locks on this house, and there was still the possibility that suspicion would turn my way. I obviously had to act boldly and decisively to bring my search to a rapid and successful conclusion. The fete gave me the perfect opportunity. So here we are."

After a moment, Lucifer said, "You meant to take a hostage."

"Of course. It was the only way to get the job done-too risky to search a shelf or two at a time. I want that volume of Aesop's Fables in my hands before nightfall."

Phyllida's tongue burned with the need to ask why. She glanced at Flick, and saw the identical thought in her eyes. They both drew breath, then turned their attention back to the shelves and continued pretending to search.

Silence fell, broken only by the steady shuffle and thump as books were hauled out, then returned to their places. After some minutes, Phyllida glanced across the room. Lucifer caught her eye; he nodded.

Phyllida moved across the bookcase as if starting on the next shelf, and slid out the brown, buckram-covered tome whose spine bore the title Aesop's Fables in simple gold lettering. She weighed the book in her hand, then opened the cover-she could see where Lucifer had lifted a corner of the front cover paper. She pressed her fingers into the thick cover; there was a softness behind the paper. Lucifer had said he'd checked; she trusted he'd known what he'd been doing.

Shutting the book, she marveled that such an innocent-looking thing could be responsible for three deaths. For depriving Lucius Appleby of his sanity. Certainly his humanity. It had nearly accounted for her, too.

Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her head and looked across the room at Appleby. "I believe this"-she held out the book-"is the volume you seek."

Appleby nearly stepped forward, nearly stepped away from Sweetie, but at the last he pulled back. He couldn't read the title. He stared at the book hungrily, then licked his lips. He flicked a glance at Lucifer and Demon. "Everyone stay still." Appleby tugged Sweetie to her feet, then locked his arm about her shoulders as before, the knife in his right hand. He nodded at Phyllida. "Hand the book to Mrs. Hemmings, then retreat to where you are now. Everyone else, stay where you are."

Phyllida did as he asked. Mrs. Hemmings turned to Appleby. He beckoned her forward with the knife. "Give the book to Miss Sweet."

Mrs. Hemmings approached cautiously, then pressed the book into her old friend's trembling hands. "There, now."

Mrs. Hemmings stepped back.

"Good." Appleby glanced briefly down at the book. He was shaking. "Open the front cover."

Sweetie fumbled but did so. His gaze on Lucifer, Demon, and the other men, Appleby grasped the cover, not looking but pressing his fingertips into the concealed pocket. A fleeting expression of unutterable relief, of flaring victory, traversed his face, then his expression blanked.

He closed the book. "I want all of you to move to the end of the room, up against the bookcases."

Lucifer hesitated, then moved down the room. The others followed. All except Lady Huddlesford. She stood her ground.

"Miss Sweet is nearly done in." Lady Huddlesford lifted her chin; she had never looked so imperious. "If you want a hostage, take me."

Miss Sweet blinked. Trapped against Appleby like some poor, innocent bird, she peered at Lady Huddlesford and visibly rallied. "Why, thank you, Margaret. That's a very kind offer, but…" Despite Appleby's arm, Sweetie straightened her spine. "I believe I'll manage. It's quite all right, really."

Lady Huddlesford considered, then inclined her head. "If you're sure, Amelia." With that, she swung majestically around and joined the others.

"If that's settled"-Appleby's voice sounded strained, wild excitement mingling with something closer to panic-"we'll leave you. I'll take Miss Sweet as far as the wood. I'll hear any footsteps long before you reach us. If I do, things will not go well for Miss Sweet. However, if you remain precisely where you are until she returns to you, you have my word she will not be harmed." He paused, his gaze flicking over Lucifer, Demon, Jonas, Sir Jasper-if he was searching for understanding, there was none to be had. "I never meant to kill anyone, not even Jerry. If there'd been some other way…" He blinked, then straightened. Pulling Sweetie with him, he shuffled sideways to the door. "I will kill anyone who gets in my way."

"We'll wait here." Lucifer kept his voice calm and steady, as he had throughout.

Appleby nodded. "In that case, I'll bid you farewell."

Under his breath, Lucifer murmured, "Au revoir."

They waited. With a raised hand, Lucifer stopped anyone from moving. "He's on the edge-we're not going to give him any reason to panic."

Minutes crawled past. They heard the scrunch of gravel, the sound dying away as Appleby dragged Sweetie through the kitchen garden toward the wood. They exchanged glances but no words. They were all thinking of Sweetie.

Then came a patter on the gravel, drawing closer to the house. It was so light a sound, they were too afraid to imagine it was footsteps. Then the baize door at the back of the hall banged the wall; in a rush of pitter-patter steps, Sweetie appeared in the dining room doorway.

"He's gone!" She fluttered her hands furiously. "Away through the woods he ran!" She flung out an arm in the general direction of the wood-then fainted.

Lucifer caught her before she hit the floor. He carried her into the drawing room and laid her on the chaise.

Later, when she recovered and told her story to the assembled ladies of the village, Miss Sweet was, for the first time in her life, the heroine of the hour.

Chapter 21

Contents – Prev | Next

As afternoon edged into evening, Lucifer, Phyllida, Demon, and Flick, with Jonas, Sir Jasper, Mr. Filing, and Cedric, gathered in the library to make a new plan.

"I've sent Dodswell to fetch Thompson and Oscar," Lucifer told them.

"Aha!" Demon said. "So that's what you meant by 'au revoir'."

Phyllida and Flick and everyone else looked their silent question; Lucifer explained. "Someone approached the Beer smuggling gang to arrange passage to France. It had to be tonight. The Beer gang told the man to meet with Oscar's band, who would normally run a cargo tonight."

Jonas looked out the window. The wind had come up as the sun had gone down; the storm was moving steadily in. "No one will be running anything tonight."

"I know that, you know that, most of us know that. The question is, will Appleby know that?"

"He was born and raised and lived most of his life in Stafford," Demon put in. "Stafford's about as far from the coast as it's possible to get, so chances are he won't immediately recognize the implications of the weather."

"Then he'll go to the meeting place expecting to meet smugglers." Phyllida was sitting beside Lucifer's desk.

"Men who have as much to hide as he does," Lucifer observed. "That's the only sort he'll feel safe approaching. He intended today to be a last and successful effort. He came to the Manor with his plans made, his arrangements in place-he never intended to return to Ballyclose."

Cedric snorted. "The horse he rode here came back a few hours ago. No other horses are missing."

Lucifer glanced at Demon. "With us here, both with strong teams, escaping on horseback would have been risky."

"He's a cautious sort, yet…" Demon shook his head. "Fancy spending five years searching for something you'd only heard of from someone else's letter. And then it turns out the thing's not even still there to be found."

"He didn't know that. He's obsessed." Phyllida hugged herself. "That's the only explanation. He's mad."

"This picture that Appleby thought was in the book-he said it hadn't surfaced." Sir Jasper glanced at Lucifer. "That seem reasonable to you?"

Lucifer nodded. "The fanfare surrounding the discovery of a lost miniature by an old master would not be easy to miss. He's correct on that. I haven't heard anything."

"But if it's not in the book and hasn't been rediscovered, where is it?"

Lucifer looked at Phyllida. "You remember the item Horatio asked me to appraise-the item that brought me here?"

Phyllida stared. "You think it might be that?"

"It's the sort of thing Horatio would ask my opinion on. I'm familiar with the private collections of old masters held by various members of the aristocracy as well as the Crown. Even more to the point, it's an item he would guard very closely and tell no one else about."

"So where is it?"

"Hidden." Lucifer looked up at the sound of the frontdoor knocker. "We'll have to turn the house inside out, but first we must deal with Appleby."

Bristleford ushered Thompson and Oscar in, then approached Lucifer. As the others pulled up chairs to join the council, Bristleford murmured, "With your permission, sir, Covey, Hemmings, and I would respectfully ask to be included in any little excursion you might be planning."

Lucifer glanced into Bristleford's earnest face, then nodded. "Yes, of course. In fact, if Mrs. Hemmings can manage out there, perhaps you, Covey, and Hemmings could join us."

"Thank you, sir. I'll fetch Covey and Hemmings."

Bristleford retreated. Phyllida caught Lucifer's eye; she closed her hand over his on the desk. "They haven't yet gotten over the fact that they let someone kill Horatio."

Lucifer nodded, then turned to the others. Briskly, he outlined the situation. Oscar described the area where the smugglers met, the knoll to which the Beer gang had directed the impatient human cargo. They made their plans quickly, then they rose.

"Remember," Sir Jasper warned, "no heroics and no unnecessary violence. I don't want to have to take anyone else up for murder."