13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Blackmailer Returns

F redrick would have liked nothing better than to crawl into bed and sleep for days, but after doing paperwork all morning, and then spending the afternoon with Frank, he finished his dinner, then decided to go to Venus. It would be nice to sit with Blackwood and relax without thinking about his convoluted feelings for Margaret or this convoluted murder mystery. He had Billy hitch up the coach and told Max to be ready.

As he rode to the club with the window down and with the wind in his face, he remembered what his father used to tell him when he was young. ‘Don’t fret son, things always work out.’ He would hang on to those words. Simple, but impactful when he felt out of sorts or floundering.

As the coach entered the lot in front of the club, Ernie stepped to the edge of the entry. “How are you this evening, my lord?”

“I’m ready to have a drink and relax for a change.” He then remembered he did have some business to discuss with Martha. But he would have a drink or two first. “Blackwood and Duff here tonight?”

“Blackwood lives here. Duff has yet to arrive, my lord. Staying long?”

“I don’t think so. Not tonight. Thank you, Ernie.”

Blackwood spotted him as Fred passed through the bar area toward the tables. Blackwood slammed his hands on the table. “Now, there is a drinking partner. I think it is your turn to buy.”

Fred chuckled to himself. Blackwood had a charismatic flare. He could be entertaining or serious and insightful, whatever the mood called for – quite a character. Brilliant mind, extremely wealthy, and authentic. “Yes, of course. I ordered with the bar wench before I even came back here.”

“You are a good man, my lord. So what is the topic of the evening? Troubles, questions, concerns? I’m open for business.”

“I’m here to clear my mind of anything taxing. I’m interested in the shallow and superficial.”

“Fredrick, I know better. You would not last five minutes with any such conversation. So what has you so burdened? Let me act as your mentor; your advisor. I’m extremely good at keeping my mouth shut.”

The bar wench, the skinny, shy one, approached with the scotch bottle and two glasses.

“That is on me, young lady.” Fred gave her a friendly smile. Remembering Glenda.

“Yes, your lordship.” She quietly disappeared.

Blackwood took control of the bottle and glasses. “She’s a shy one. Unlike our Glenda. Maybe all the new ones need is some time.”

He poured them both a drink. “Continue, Fredrick. You were saying.”

“A young lady. Rattling my world. An innocent. Pretty, nubile, smart, outspoken, kind, generous, voluptuous. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s only when she is in my proximity, she sucks me into her orbit. I become libidinous if I see her across a room. I get this frisson. Betwattled. Then I realize my carnal, pent-up desire, cannot be exercised with this luscious bit of skirt, so suddenly I’m either taciturn or become churlish. Neither of which is what I intend. I lose all equanimity when she is around. What should I do? Stay away from her? Yes, I think I must stay away for my sanity.”

“She is pretty?”

“Truly, more than pretty. She is a diamond of the first water.”

“And smart?”

“And intuitive.”

“Out-spoken?”

“Yes, but not rude. More honest, but she is kind.”

“And generous?”

“Extremely. She does things for her friends and donates to charitable organizations.”

“And voluptuous?”

“Oh, my heavens. She is curvaceous and buxom but never flaunts her attributes. She does not even think of herself as attractive. Do you believe that? She has blossomed. She has gentlemen approach her constantly. She dances with them and she will converse, but never flirts or acts supercilious like many of the debs.”

“Fredrick. I cannot diagnose your affliction. That is for you to do. I only hope, if she is all you say, you make the right prognosis, my friend.”

“I will ponder on what you said.” He shot down his scotch as he stood. “Pour me another one. I need to briefly go speak with Martha. I shall return.” With that, Fredrick walked toward the staircase that led to Martha’s office.

Fred approached Martha’s office door and knocked softly. “Come.” She stood as he entered the room. “Lord Fredrick, come, have a seat.” She walked around from her desk and indicated for him to be seated at one of the two Rams head-carved wingback Bergere armchairs. He waited for her to sit first. She pulled her chair closer to his. Fred had hoped that Martha had not misinterpreted his recent visits.

“I wanted to get with you for a minute. I have friends downstairs. I wanted to find out if our mystery woman had returned.” Fred wanted her to know he had friends waiting. He started getting an uneasy feeling sitting with her so close. He assuredly did not wish to give Martha any indication, of any kind, that his interest was anything other than business.

“She has yet to make a repeat visit. I will contact you soon after the woman leaves. I still have your money. Please don’t worry on that account.” She attempted a gaze that was reserved for the debutantes; she bent her head down slightly, then looked up through her lashes. The motion was less than appealing from a woman of her looks and age.

“Thank you for providing an update.” He rose from the chair. I should get back to my – “

Martha grabbed his hand, “Must you leave so soon? We have yet to conclude our business.” She reached for his trousers and put her hand on his cock. What the hell? Ugh, no!

“Martha.” Fred removed her hand from his cock and politely stepped away. “I do have friends waiting for me.”

She tried to reach for his cock again. “It won’t take me long to take care of you, honey. You don’t even have to sit down. I can open your fall and massage your ballocks while I suck you into my mouth. I’ve heard about your preferences and I promise I can have you walking out my office door a happy man.” Oh, good heavens. I know Henry always said close your eyes and they are all the same. I don’t think I can do it. Shite.

“Martha, Martha.” He looked at her with a high degree of discomfort. He supposed he had hoped for some graceful way out of this. She happened to be the wrong lady saying all the right things. Damn. Someone get me out of this .

There came a knock on her office door. “A moment, please.” She called out. She looked up at Fred. “You are sure?”

Divine intervention. “Yes, Martha. I’m afraid so. But I must say how flattered I am at your most tempting offer.” Oh, how awful . He shuddered.

“Well, sweeting, keep thinking about it, alright?” She winked at him. “Come.” She called out toward the door. Thank goodness for Ernie.

Ernie’s eyes looked at Fred standing too close and Martha sitting too close; taking note of their positioning. “I thought you might be in here. There is a woman at the door asking for Glenda. Something about the money Glenda owes her.”

“Shite, Martha. She is here. Do you remember what we discussed? If she asks about why Glenda is not at her flat; she had to move because she could not afford the rent and pay her. She stays here at night. She works at one of your other clubs, besides this one. Give her the eight pounds and tell her to come back on Thursday. Glenda will have more money for her then.” Fred frantically cued Martha as she moved back to her desk and took the coins out of one of the drawers. “And try to get a good description of her.”

“Yes, yes, Fredrick. I know how to work it. Remember, I told you whores are wonderful actresses.” She gave him another wink and slipped out the door with Ernie following her.

“Ernie!” He turned to look back at Fred. “See if she gets into a hackney. And try to get a good description.”

“Yes, my lord.” He responded over his shoulder as he kept walking.

“I will be sitting with Lord Blackwood,” Fred called out.

“As always.” He heard Ernie retort as he continued down the hall.

Fred returned to the table. Lord Duff had finally arrived. Duff grinning ear to ear. “What is that big grin about, Lord Duff?” Fred truly did not think – No – He could not have – Seriously?

“I did it! And well worth the price. Although I hardly have to worry about money these days. I must say. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and I believe I will have another go before I leave tonight.” Duff sat up proud as a peacock.

“Dear god. He’s gone from priest to male whore, in the blink of an eye. Damn, Duff. You are going to spend all your money on tupping.” Blackwood, completely entertained by this. “I’m rather proud of you. It is as if you are finally coming of age.” He put his hand on Duff’s shoulder and gave him a nod of approval.

“I have no one that I care one whit about. I have no one to leave the money to, so I may as well spend it.”

“Unfortunately, Martha detained me longer than I wished. Martha. Ugh.” Fred seated himself.

“I can’t wait to hear this one.” Blackwood barked.

“You will have to. I need to speak with Ernie and the raving beauty again.” Fred turned up his nose. Blugh!

Fred walked to the front entrance. Ernie and Martha were still there. “So…?” He shrugged.

“Between the two of us, we got a good description of her. She complained. She said eight pounds put Glenda behind another week. She wanted to know Glenda’s whereabouts. I gave her the speech. She seemed to believe me. I told her to come back on Thursday for the balance. She expressed her dissatisfaction. She said, ‘I can’t keep traveling – ‘. And then she stopped herself. She must have come from out of Town. But she said she would ‘try’.” Martha handed Fred a paper. “I made her sign a receipt.”

“Smart, Martha. Thank you.” He took the receipt.

“I can give you the woman’s description. Do you want me to write it down?” Ernie probably got the best description.

“Good idea. I have had a few and it has been a bizarre day.” Ernie patted him on the back.

“It happens to all of us.” Ernie let out a slight chuckle as he patted Fred on the back again.

“Were you able to see the equipage she left in?” It could be a good lead as well, Fred hoped.

Ernie shook his head. “She walked out of the lot and turned right.”

Fred felt some urgency. “How long ago did she leave?”

“About the same time you walked up, my lord.” Before Ernie had completed his sentence, Fred flew out the door. He looked to see his coach. He called out, “Max, turn it around!”

“Where are we going?” Max yelled back.

“Out and to the right. Let’s go!” Fred jumped up on the coachman’s seat next to Max. “We are looking for a pedestrian; a female.” His eyes were scanning. “She could not have gotten too far on foot.” He spotted a gig with a top moving slowly. Fred knew it had to be the woman’s mode of transport. She had to be hiding. “Max, can you turn the horses like we are returning to Venus , without getting this coach stuck? I know she is going to get into that gig. She is in hiding, waiting for us to leave. Understand?”

“Yes, my lord. “Not a bother, at all.” Max looked over at Lord Fredrick and his face reflected his excitement. “Rare to have this kind of fun, my lord.” Max began the act of turning the coach around. Fred turned his body enough to observe the gig. As expected, a woman stepped out from a group of trees and rushed to board the gig.

“Turn, turn, she is in the gig.” He kept watching. “They have picked up their speed. “They cannot outrun us.” They were close to the gig. “Max, see if you can get beside them. They will have to stop.” As Fred's words left his mouth, the gig made a sharp turn to the left. “Shite, Max. Stop the coach. Stop.” The gig had rolled. The horse struggling to stand. “Jesus. It looks like they are both trapped under the gig. Max, you unharness the horse and I will try to get to the two under the gig.” Fred dropped to his knees and bent down to see the man was dead. He had a broken neck. His head twisted so his face was behind him. Awful. Fred called out, “Miss? Ma’am.” All he could see was a black skirt. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Can you hear me?”

“My lord, it looks like both wheels on this side are destroyed. We might be able to get the gig into some kind of upright position and get these people out.”

“Yes, the woman is on the other side.” They walked around to the right side of the gig and tried to pull it down. “Come now, Max. We should be able to do this.” Fred stripped his topcoat with Max following his lead. “Ready Max?”

“Yes, my lord. We shall get it this time.” Together, they pulled, grunted, and blew out all the air they had in their lungs, and got it somewhat upright. The left side of the gig was destroyed.

“Oh, god. She is dead, too – Damnit.” Fredrick could hardly look at her. The left side of her face – gone – crushed in. Then he noticed one of the spokes from either of the left wheels had impaled her. Blood everywhere. “I hate to ask it of you, but I need you to go through the man’s pockets, all of them. I will see what I can find on her.” Fred first looked for a reticule which he found lodged under the seat. It felt morbid and it pained him, but he needed to see if she had anything on her person.

He knew women would sometimes put letters, notes, or money down their corsets, garters, shoes, hats, and dress pockets. He began his search. She had money in her pockets which was the eight pounds Martha had given her, papers of some kind down her corset, and some kind of jewelry or pendant pinned on one garter. He found a ribbon when he attempted to pull the garter off. Odd that. The other garter had a beautiful pendant or brooch of gold with different gemstones in it. “What did you find, Max? Anything?”

“Yes, my lord. Quite a few things, but I think we best look over our findings at home. I see people walking this way.”

“Right, try to stuff those findings in your pockets and we need to put our topcoats back on, quickly.” He tossed Max’s over and quickly donned his to hide the reticule.

“My God! This looks bad!” One man shouted.

“How many were in the gig, my lord?” Another asked.

“Two, both dead. They are a mess. Ma’am, I would advise you not to try and look at the bodies. You might swoon.” Fred warned the woman.

“Yes, my lord. Thank you.” The woman responded but tried to get a quick look before she turned away.

“Any of you want this gig? I think some parts would be usable. I’m not sure what to do about the bodies. I have never come upon this before.”

“Get ta’ hole of the undertaker. He’ll probly throw’em in a pauper’s grave. Don’t know’ em?”

“No, we came upon them a moment ago and hoped to provide assistance,” Fred answered. “Is there an undertaker nearby?”

“Yes, my lord. Handy spot ta’ die. He’s right up the street, on the right. Sign out front.” The first man provided the information on the undertaker. Fred noticed the three men were already looking over the gig to see what was salvageable.

“Come, Max. I suppose we can ride up to the undertakers.” As they picked up the pace to get to the coach.

“Yes, my lord.” Max gave a disgusted look as he glanced back. “Vultures.”

Fredrick looked at Max and snickered. “Max, what did it look like we were doing?”

“Yes, my lord, you have a point.” Max looked at his hands. “I don’t wish to take the reins with blood all over my hands.”

“I don’t believe we have anything to use in the cabin.”

“No, my lord. There is nothing to use. All the blankets I took out for cleaning since summer is almost here.”

“We will have to use the grass until we get somewhere to wash up.” They walked behind the coach and began to run their hands across someone’s lawn.

“Best we can do, my lord. Now, where to? Home or Venus?”

“Stop by the undertaker. I will give him a few coins, then we had best return home. Blackwood will do fine without me tonight.”

Fred would have to send a missive to Frank, his men would not be needed now. The blackmailer was dead.

Martha’s Late Night Call

Lord Fredrick rode in the coachman’s seat with Max. When they pulled up the lane, a carriage neither recognized had blocked the lane. “Who would be here this time of night? It is not one of the horsemen.”

“No, my lord. I know all their equipage. It is not one of theirs.” Max strategized on how best to get around it.

“Max, if you must, leave the coach here. I need you to come in so we can go over our findings.”

“Yes, my lord. I will see what I can do first. I will be in once I get this coach inside.”

Eying Fred, Mr. Winston opened the door. He put his finger to his lips and whispered. “It is that woman from The Temple of Venus . I told her you were gone and I had no idea when you would return but she refused to leave. She asked for a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She is in the front drawing room.”

“Good heavens. Could you not get rid of her?” Fred whispered back.

“Believe me, my lord. I did try. Forgive me.” Mr. Winston looked overwrought.

“It is alright. I understand. She can be quite demonstrative.” Good heavens! This is all I need!

“Holy shite! What the hell has happened to you? Do you need to go to the hospital? Did you get into a skirmish? Was it the woman? Did she stab you?” Martha stood behind Mr. Winston until Winston stepped aside and she saw the full extent of the blood stains. She walked over to face him. “You have blood all over you; hands, face, oh my god, on your damn boots. Take those damn things off right here. You don’t want to trail shite all through the house. Blood stains are fucking impossible.” Good heavens! She talks like a whore.

“Yes, Martha, I’m quite aware of the damage. And how did you get here so quickly?” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

He toed off his boots. “I believe these are ruined, my lord.” Mr. Winston surmised as he bent over for a closer inspection.

“Of course they are. They were my favorite pair.” Fred looked at his ruined clothes in a heap and groaned. The day had started out so grand. Now this! and He did not want to deal with Martha.

All three looked to the back when they heard a male voice. “My lord. I believe my uniform is unsalvageable. I’m afraid you will need to get me a replacement.” Max called out, as he came up through the hall and turned. He saw Miss Martha immediately. “I’m so sorry…I had no idea the equipage belonged to her.” Max gave Fredrick a curious look.

“I asked you, Martha, how the hell did you get here so fast?”

“So fast? What the hell do you mean, so fast? You left my place over two hours ago.” She furrowed her brow.

“Well, unless you have something of the utmost importance to impart, I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for polite company. Honestly, not any company.”

“Well, this is no way to treat a lady.” She had her hands on her hips. “I could help you wash off.” She wiggled her brows . Oh, good heavens.

“Honestly, Martha, I appreciate the thought, but I have a valet who is more than capable of tending to this. And I need to get upstairs with haste. I sent a missive to my solicitor. He is to meet me here to discuss the events of the evening. I intend to clean up before he arrives.”

“Alright, I will let it go this time. But I will try to get you again.” She gave him a most disgusting feral look. Fred could not be sure, but it appeared that she tried to look alluring. Oh, for heaven's sake.

“Martha, you should not travel these roads alone. You never know where and when someone may be lurking about.” He attempted to dissuade her from coming again.

“I carry a damn gun, Sweeting. Good night.” With that, she turned on her heels and swept out the door.

“Oh, good heavens, Mr. Winston. How are we going to keep her away?”

Mr. Winston tried to hold a laugh under his breath but failed.

“I’m serious. How? I can’t even imagine where she got the slightest inclination that I would…oh, I’m going to be sick!” Fred made the most repulsive-looking face. Max and Mr. Winston were unable to hold their laughter. “Oh, you two. Laughing at my misery. It is not right. I should fire the both of you.” He whined as he started removing his clothing in the foyer.

“Max, you may as well go to bed. I’m not doing this tonight. Not after the grueling and ghoulish night, we have been through. Oh, good heavens. And my favorite waistcoat is ruined as well.” He growled.

“My lord, we will have it all replaced. I will speak with Joshua on the morrow. Is that to your liking?” Mr. Winston smiled at him.

“Yes, Mr. Winston. Very much to my liking. Now, I plan to strip down to my trousers, soak in the tub, and go to bed. And do not wake me. Hopefully, I will awake and this will all have been a bad dream – no, nightmare.”