Chapter 8

Eight

THE TOWER, LONDON

Unlike previous occasions and in spite of the fact that we had no set appointment, we were not forced to wait to see Sir Avery upon our arrival. It was further emphasis as to the seriousness of the case.

Alex Sinclair met us in the hallway outside of his office. "You have information?"

Brodie nodded. "Aye. What of Sir Avery's inquiries with the other gentlemen who were present at Sandringham?"

"He has met with all of them, including the Prince of Wales, and only just returned. He will be most anxious to hear what you have learned in the matter. He also has spoken with the physician who inspected the body."

What was left of it, I thought with a shiver at the memory of that encounter in the forest at the royal estate.

"There were several knife wounds. However, it seems that the fatal wound was across the throat." Alex explained as he escorted us to Sir Avery's office.

Sir Avery rose from behind his desk as we entered. His expression was unreadable for the most part and gave none of his thoughts away. He was the epitome of the perfect master of discretion or, as my great-aunt had said of him, the perfect sort to be a spy—completely unassuming in appearance, short in height, with features that would never draw attention except for that gaze that seemed to see everything.

And according to her as well, behind that unassuming ‘common man' appearance was a ruthless demeanor and unwavering loyalty to Queen and country.

"There is a reason he was chosen to lead this new agency ," she had said, surprising me as there were few who supposedly knew about it.

" Of course, spying on one's enemies is nothing new ," she had continued at the time. "It's been going on for centuries in one form or another. And the fact that the Queen has this secret group to gather information is nothing new either. It all began with her marriage to Prince Albert. He was German, you know. It was no secret there were concerns about the alliance and the need to keep tabs on what was going on not only in Germany, but in other countries as well.

"Politics, my dear, " she had added. "It is said our great ancestor was quite good at it. Of course, in the eleventh century, if there were enemies, one simply had their heads cut off. You have to admit, gruesome as that was, it did effectively resolve quarrels."

"You have information from your inquiries of Sir Collingwood's household staff?" Sir Avery now asked.

Brodie went over our initial meeting with the servants, the questions, and their responses.

"It did seem there was nothing out of the ordinary in the man's behavior, no unusual appointments, no unknown callers he might have met with. Miss Forsythe did, however, learn something curious from his housekeeper."

There it was again, as if we were merely associates in the business of making inquiries. I forced back the anger that would have been far too easy to indulge as I referred to my notes.

"The woman did mention that before leaving for Sandringham, Sir Collingwood had given each of the servants their weekly envelopes."

"Not necessarily unusual, as he was to be gone for several days," Sir Avery pointed out.

"However, on this occasion he paid each of them a full month's wage," I added. "He also instructed his housekeeper not to make her usual purchases at the grocer, and a ledger I found at his desk indicated that he had paid all of his bills well in advance. It would seem that he was planning on being gone for some time, or possibly closing his residence."

Sir Avery frowned as he paced the narrow space beside the desk.

"I called on a friend of mine in the theater," I added. "She is well acquainted with Angeline Cotillard, the woman who was a guest that weekend."

I went over everything Templeton had shared with me.

"It seems that she travels with a man, whom she described to me."

Sir Avery nodded. "That could be important. Is there anything else?"

Brodie looked over at me.

"A note was discovered that Sir Collingwood had apparently attempted to destroy at his residence at some point in time before leaving for Sandringham. Miss Forsythe was able to retrieve some of the information," he provided.

"What was in the note?"

I handed him my note where I had deciphered those odd bits and pieces that we retrieved from the fireplace.

"It was badly burned, only a few remnants remained. It was handwritten."

He studied the note.

"Szábo?" He read the name I had written there.

"There was also a street name in Paris."

He looked up.

"In the Montparnasse."

"We then spoke with a man in the German community," Brodie informed him. "It seems that Szábo is known as someone who accommodates certain arrangements. Herr Schmidt has agreed to learn whatever else he can, in exchange for a favor."

"What might that be?" Sir Avery inquired.

"It seems that his brother-in-law has been denied entry into the country," Brodie explained.

"And he would like for us to look the other way in exchange for information he might be able to provide about this person, Szábo?" Sir Avery concluded with a frown. "Does the brother-in-law have a name?"

Brodie provided him the information, then inquired about Sir Avery's meetings with the other guests who were at Sandringham the night Sir Collingwood disappeared.

"It seems that no one saw or heard anything unusual during their stay, most particularly the night that Sir Collingwood disappeared," he replied.

"Do ye believe them?"

Sir Avery frowned. "It is in their best interest to tell the truth. It seems that Sir Collingwood participated in the gaming along with the others that evening, then retired early."

And he had then left the manor to meet with someone after leaving the other gentlemen. Sir Avery explained when it was discovered that he was gone, it was assumed that he had returned to London.

"From what the other guests shared, the woman was there to provide entertainment of some sort," he continued. "She is an acquaintance of the Prince of Wales which means that this must be handled with all discretion."

Sir Avery paced the narrow space between his desk and the wall with a map of the world.

"Paris," he commented. "Whatever else was in that note, Sir Collingwood obviously didn't want anyone to know of it."

He was thoughtful for several long moments.

"It that all?" Brodie said.

"Not quite, Mr. Brodie. You and Lady Forsythe will need to go to Paris to try to determine what that burned note meant."

"There is no need for the both of us," Brodie protested. "I can make the inquiries necessary…"

It was obvious that he had no desire for us to continue further. I did admit that I had hoped that the information we'd learned would be the end of it, and hopefully the ‘agreement' that I'd made with Sir Avery would be fulfilled.

"This case, and the potential implications for the Crown because of Sir Collingwood's position, require the utmost discretion to see those responsible brought to justice." He held a hand up when Brodie would have protested further.

"Your working arrangement is perfect for this. You will appear to be husband and wife with the excuse that you are traveling on holiday or perhaps intending to visit family. Lady Forsythe has spent considerable time in France, and Paris in particular. That could be of enormous help in this.

"Not only that," he continued. "She speaks the language. This will allow you to move about and make inquiries that perhaps others cannot. You have my answer Mr. Brodie, Lady Forsythe. You will be prepared to leave in the morning for Dover for travel to Calais and then Paris. Mr. Sinclair will accompany you to Dover from the rail station and will provide you with all travel information.

"You will also need travel documents. Mr. Sinclair will arrange for that, as well as the appropriate currency that you will need while in the city. Obviously, the address in the Montparnasse is a place to start.

"Hopefully you will be able to learn something there that may provide answers to this matter." He looked from Brodie to me. "Under no circumstances are you to reveal the real reason you will be in Paris. Do you have any questions?"

After leaving his office, we went to Alex Sinclair's office. I could tell by his expression that he knew precisely what the conversation with Sir Avery had been. He provided departure information for the morning train.

"I'm to accompanying you as far as the coast."

"Aye," Brodie replied.

"I will bring the necessary travel documents and currency you will need."

He looked from Brodie to me. "I will also provide the name of the cryptographer who can be trusted, should you need to send information."

With that, we left the Tower offices. We rode in silence to the town house rather than the office on the Strand.

"I realize that you tried to get me released from that agreement I made with Sir Avery." I wasn't angry, which surprised me.

The truth was that I was not looking forward to pursing the case further without him. Not, I suppose, that he wanted to hear that. "You don't trust him. After Edinburgh, I understand."

"Sir Avery has loyalty to only one person, the Queen. If he determines that something threatens her or the Crown, he will act as needed."

"Even in the event of a scandal?"

"Most particularly. It's best ye know the way of it. If it came to a choice between the interests of the Crown or ourselves…"

There was no need to explain further.

When we arrived, he had the driver wait and walked me to the entrance of the town house.

With changing seasons, it had grown quite cold on that ride from the Tower as the sun slipped down past the rooflines of the buildings we passed. Misty halos formed around street lamps.

"Mrs. Ryan will have waited supper," I told him, a simple enough invitation. "And there is always my aunt's very fine whisky on a cold evening."

I saw the hesitation and for a moment I thought he would accept.

"Thank ye, no. It is late enough, and there are arrangements to be made."

It was not likely that he meant Mr. Cavendish, or the information he was going to have Dooley follow up about Herr Schmidt's brother-in-law.

"Rory?"

"Aye. I was to take him to the museum."

I could have sworn that he winced.

He had said little about the boy at the office on the Strand and our travel to Sandringham. There had been other matters of concern.

Since my return, I had paid several visits to Lady Matthews in the aftermath of that very difficult inquiry case.

It did seem that Rory was doing quite well. He had started his studies with a tutor, and now a visit to the London Museum had been planned.

After all the sadness and heartache that she had been through, Adelaide Matthews seemed genuinely happy. And Rory seemed to be doing well.

"The lad seems to have an unnatural curiosity for things, and Lady Matthews thought he might like the museum."

"Lily has become quite fascinated with it," I confided. "Of course, she much prefers the weapons gallery."

He nodded. "She is a braw young woman."

"Yes, she is."

"Like yerself."

There was something in his voice, and then gone.

"I try not to overly influence her," I added. "However, with the tales my great-aunt tells her, it may be a losing battle."

"Aye, but she's a smart one. And ye did right bringing her to London."

That had been a mutual arrangement. And now?

We stood there, very much like strangers I thought, trying to find the right things to say after perhaps too many other things had already been said. And I supposed that we were strangers after everything that had happened.

I thought of something I once heard, that once spoken, words could never be taken back. They were always there.

"Mikaela…" He hesitated.

It seemed there was something more he would have said.

Instead, he bid me good evening.

"I will meet you at the rail station in the morning."

I stood at the entrance to the town house and watched as he returned to the cab, tall and lean, dark hair curling over the collar of his coat.

He gave the driver instructions, then climbed inside.

"Well, damn," I softly swore to myself as the cab disappeared down the street.