Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [111]
‘Nothing happened,’ Daniel said. ‘Or rather, a lot happened, but there was no mystery woman suddenly produced from behind a cloak. Was that what you were expecting?’
‘Something went wrong with their plans yesterday, I’m quite convinced of that,’ Blackstone said. ‘Mandeville hasn’t gone to all this trouble just to give dinner to his friends. He and Kilkeel are still waiting to make their move, and I don’t know why. We must find out.’
It infuriated me that, in spite of everything, he was still plotting.
‘Did you know Mrs Beedle was murdered here last night?’ I said.
Blackstone stared at me.
‘I don’t even know who Mrs Beedle is.’
‘Mandeville’s mother-in-law. Did you kill her?’
Daniel started protesting, then stopped when I gave him a look.
‘In all my life, I’ve never killed anybody,’ Blackstone said. He looked straight at me, eyes wide open as if he wanted me to see into his thoughts. ‘I hope you believe that. I should be sorry to have your bad opinion, Miss Lane.’
His eyes closed. After a while he slid sideways against Daniel. I thought he might have died, but I felt no grief, nothing. Daniel caught my eye and pointed to a couple of young musicians smoking their pipes on the far end of the terrace. I went over to them to ask for their help and the three of them managed to take Blackstone back inside. He tried to walk, but his feet scarcely grazed the gravel. At the doorway he turned and looked at me.
‘Do you believe me? About your father, at least?’
I thought of what Daniel had said, that in his prime this man could have marched ten thousand people on Whitehall, and of the thin black legs sticking out among the scattered vegetables.
‘Yes, I believe you.’
I sat on a bench and after a while Daniel came out to me, head down.
‘Thank you for saying that, Liberty.’
‘He said something I know is true. That makes me inclined to believe him on the rest.’
‘What?’
‘My father was killed because of the woman. Don’t tell Blackstone or anybody else, but that same woman’s hiding in my room. I’d like you to come and speak to her.’
‘Your room! For heaven’s sake, Liberty! If you’re right, two people have died because of this woman, and now you tell me you’re hiding her.’
‘I don’t know what else to do about her. But you must come and speak to her.’
‘Please, leave it and come away with me this instant. Mourn your father and let them all play their games and go to hell in their own way. You know now why your father was killed. You know it wasn’t poor Blackstone …’
‘Poor Blackstone!’
‘Yes. He always told us he’d live to see a republic in England. I don’t think he believes it now.’
‘I still don’t know why my father was killed. I think she does. There’s no doubt whatsoever that she’s the woman in his letter. In any case, we can’t just go and leave her here. We must find a way to take her with us.’
‘Did she tell you she knows who killed him?’
‘I haven’t managed to ask her yet. She’s very scared and she doesn’t like questions.’
‘Liberty, just leave it and –’
‘While the man who killed my father is living and breathing, no, I will not leave it.’
He sighed and gave me his hand to help me up from the bench.
‘If you won’t leave it, then I suppose I must help you, though the gods know there probably isn’t a man in the world less fit for this sort of business than I am.’
As we walked back to the house I told him what she’d said, as well as I could remember. I let him take my arm, past caring who saw us. He waited outside the kitchen door while I made sure there was nobody in the chamber pot storeroom, then we went up the back stairs to the maids’ landing. He waited there again so that I could go up and warn Mrs Martley. To my relief, she was just where I’d left her, asleep in the hard chair, wrapped in Betty’s shawl, her head fallen sideways on to her shoulder. Her eyes jerked open when I stepped into the room.
‘You should