No Stone Unturned, page 12
part #1 of Lucy Lawrence Series
“Mary arrived mid-morning. Servants’ grapevine.”
“Ah yes, highly efficient it is too. I have often remarked to my friend, Chief Inspector McQuillan, that the constabulary could do with a similar system. I hope you have briefed her on the situation.”
“Yes. I was totally honest with her. and she still wanted to stay. I have employed her these last four years; she has always been loyal and hard-working.”
“Excellent. I was going to suggest you stay in a hotel or with a friend but the maid will suffice.” Lucy smarted but did not comment. “As promised, I visited your brother’s insurance company and told them of my suspicions regarding the whole affair. They have agreed to my plan.”
“I am glad, though I’m sure they are always reluctant to pay out.”
Stone smiled. “That is often the case.”
“It will be interesting to see how long it takes Richard to attempt to sell the pearls.”
“Best not to dwell on it for now,” Stone said. “Speaking of the local constabulary, I’d like you to accompany me to Vine Street Station this afternoon.”
She stiffened. Why did he want her to go there? Was it a ruse to have her arrested again? “I don’t see why that is necessary, Mr Stone. We both know who was responsible for what happened here.”
“Indeed. However, it is my hope that the Chief Inspector will be amenable to providing you with protection. Knowing him as I do, he will be more co-operative if he meets you in person. I’m sure you have realised Marsh must have you and your home under surveillance.”
“I did wonder …” Lucy said, her heart sinking.
“Then you cannot object.” Stone had the gall to smile at her.
Vine Street Police Station
They found the chief inspector at his desk, his red hair peppered with grey just visible above stacks of folders and old newspapers. He glanced up and waved them to uncomfortable-looking wooden chairs.
“With you in a minute,” McQuillan said after greeting Lucy and Mr Stone. “I must finish this report for Old Henley.”
“Take your time, my friend,” Stone replied with an amused glance at Lucy. “I would hate for you to be on the wrong side of your superior through any fault of mine.”
A harrumph from behind the paper tower was the only reply. They waited patiently as McQuillan signed off a sheet and pushed it into a file.
“Now then, what can I do for you?” McQuillan asked, breaking into a smile.
“This is Mrs Charles Lawrence,” Stone said.
McQuillan quirked a brow, then leapt forward to shake her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Lawrence.” He glanced at Stone. “Should I order tea?”
“That won’t be necessary, Oliver, we are here on business.”
“I see,” the chief inspector replied, looking very much as if he didn’t, and returned to his desk.
Stone filled him in on the Somerville pearls case and Lucy’s involvement in it.
The colour rose in McQuillan’s face. “I cannot believe police officers could be so incompetent. You should make an offical complaint, Mrs Lawrence.”
“I’d rather just forget about it,” Lucy said.
“Then I will ensure those officers are reprimanded. I am acquainted with a senior officer in that division. Let me take the opportunity to apologise on behalf of the force.”
Stone interjected: “That is all well and good, unfortunately, there is more, Oliver. Have you failed to recognise the name Lawrence? Charles Lawrence?”
“Oh! Are you related?” the Chief Inspector asked her. He glanced at Stone then back to her, a frown darkening his features.
Lucy managed a weak smile. “I am his widow.”
Stone took up the story of the previous evening. The chief inspector sat up when Stone told him about the dead cat.
McQuillan frowned. “Nasty!” Then he smirked at Mr Stone. “I would dearly like to have seen you getting your hands dirty.”
Lucy glanced at Stone to see how he would take the ribbing, but he ignored it. “With no servants in the house, I could hardly expect Mrs Lawrence to dispose of the animal. Thankfully, it is not every day a lady encounters such a threat.”
“True. In all seriousness, this is a worrying development,” McQuillan replied.
“And a frightening one, Chief Inspector,” Lucy said.
“Of course. However, I do not know how I can help. The perpetrators are, as you said yourself, Stone, long gone.”
“Yes, but don’t you see? Marsh’s people must be watching Mrs Lawrence and her movements. I rather hoped I could persuade you to increase the police presence near her home. I have explained to Mrs Lawrence about the sapphires and the probable link to her late husband.”
“What would the Met do without you, Stone?” McQuillan shook his head. “I’d love to help, but it’s not my district. The best I can do is to put a word in for you.”
“Thank you, but it’s in your interest too. The case must be re-opened, and you don’t want a valuable witness to come to grief. How would that look to Old Henley, eh?”
McQuillan tried to look affronted and turned to Lucy. “I’m not happy about certain aspects of this situation. Most of all, Mrs Lawrence, I fail to understand why you didn’t report Mr Marsh and his threat to your local station.” He flicked a glance at Stone before he fixed her with a hard stare. “You have nothing to hide I assume?”
“Oliver, be careful!” exclaimed Stone.
“No, Mr Stone, the Chief Inspector is right to question my motives. My inaction, in hindsight, must appear peculiar. I have regretted not reporting the original threat but at the time I was too frightened, and I had no idea what Mr Marsh wanted. That is the reason I fled to my family in Yorkshire.”
“And you knew nothing about your husband’s involvement with Marsh’s gang?” McQuillan asked.
“Nothing until Mr Stone gave me the details last night. The first time I saw Mr Marsh was at my husband’s funeral.”
McQuillan sat back in his chair. “I will consider your request, Phineas. What is your plan? You are hardly going to use this good lady as bait?”
“Certainly not,” Stone replied.
“I’m glad to hear it!” Lucy exclaimed giving him a dirty look. The corner of Stone’s mouth twitched.
“You’re up to your old tricks, aren’t you?” The chief inspector glared at Mr Stone. “Always keeping me in the dark until you need the cavalry. Fine! Keep your counsel.”
Stone merely grinned back at him before looking around the room. “Oliver, were you demoted recently? It is the only explanation I can find for this ridiculous new office.”
“You know well I was promoted. You even forced open your wallet and bought me a drink.”
Stone gave him a pitying look. “My dear friend, there is no need to be so defensive.”
“I don’t know why I tolerate you,” McQuillan commented, tipping his chair. “If you weren’t so useful …”
“It’s as well I am as you don’t have the resources to keep on top of half of what goes on out there.” Stone looked out the window as another gust of wind, laden with sleet, rattled the panes. “By the way, I have to say your old office had a better view.”
“Stone, are you going to tell me what you have planned or do I have to take you down to the cells and leave you to the ministrations of my sergeant?” McQuillan demanded.
“Good Lord! You do realise a serious crime has been committed,” Stone said, his eyes wide.
“What are you talking about now?” McQuillan snapped.
“It would appear someone has stolen your sense of humour, as well as your nice office.”
McQuillan glared at him, but ruined it by starting to laugh. By now, Lucy had realised they were old friends. They made an odd couple but she could see they had respect for each other, beyond the teasing.
“I assume you don’t want me to wade in and take all the glory just yet then,” McQuillan said. “Please humour me. How will you proceed?”
“Do my best to find the sapphires, of course. But at least I know they are not in St John’s Wood.”
“How can you be sure?” McQuillan asked.
“Marsh’s men were thorough. If the gems were in the house, they would have found them, and there would have been no need to leave the cat as a warning.”
“Agreed. Marsh was pinning all his hopes on finding them in Abbey Gardens. Now, what will he do?” asked McQuillan.
“Hard to know, but what worries me is he appears to believe Mrs Lawrence knows where they are hidden.”
“It worries me too, Chief Inspector,” Lucy piped up. “I don’t want to be a lure for this lunatic.”
“Yes, I can understand your concerns, Mrs Lawrence.” The policeman turned to Mr Stone. “I agree Mrs Lawrence is in danger.”
“Hence, my request,” Stone said.
“Very well, I will ensure you have protection,” McQuillan said to Lucy. She smiled her relief and thanks.
“If the sapphires are not in Mrs Lawrence’s home, where could they be?” McQuillan asked Stone.
“A knotty problem—they could potentially be anywhere. The obvious place to start my investigation is to question your servants, Mrs Lawrence. They tend to be the best possible source of information, I find. If you know where they went on leaving your service, and can provide their direction, it would save me a great deal of time.”
“Yes, of course,” Lucy said. “I have provided references for most of them.”
“Excellent. I need to build up a picture of your husband’s habits, his friends and his haunts. Servants tend to be far more observant than wives in these matters. Then it will be on to his clubs. Charlie Lawrence didn’t have the gems on him the day he was killed. Most likely, he wanted to negotiate a deal with the police before he produced them or perhaps he considered claiming the reward. Either way, he must have stashed them away in a safe place.”
“Or he gave them to someone he trusted,” McQuillan said eyeing Lucy. A blush rose in her cheeks as her heart filled with dismay. Despite her earlier assurances, the chief inspector thought she was involved. If he didn’t believe her, there was a strong possibility Stone didn’t either.
CHAPTER 15
That night, Lucy lay awake staring into the darkness, only too aware of being alone, the bed cold and empty beside her. It was too easy to indulge dark thoughts as the night progressed with agonising slowness towards dawn. She relived each humiliating event of the past few months with absolute clarity. Her dreams, when she did sleep eventually, inhabited cold sinister places. She was in the woods at Somerville in the depths of the night, conscious of being followed and absolutely terrified. She came upon a clearing. In the centre, Charlie lay dead as he had on the mortuary slab with Horace lying on his chest. Shadowy figures closed in, gradually taking on the faces of her family, Marsh and Stone. It was a relief to wake.
But that relief didn’t last. As she sat at the breakfast table, reality intruded once more, and it was worse than any nightmare. What a fool she had been, she thought, crumbling her toast to pieces. If only she had paid more attention to Charlie’s day-to day-life, but all they had shared was a roof in the latter years of their marriage. Lucy had realised her marriage was struggling, but not the disastrous direction Charlie’s life was taking nor what the consequences would be for her.
And the worrisome deficiency of funds had to be faced. Without word from the solicitor, she didn’t know what her future financial position would be. However, she dared not approach Richard. The continued silence from Yorkshire didn’t surprise her, and after all that had transpired, she welcomed it. Initially, Lucy feared Richard would follow her to town. But when she had voiced this concern to Stone, he had pointed out Richard would be too preoccupied with the state of his own affairs.
At least Stone appeared to be concerned for her safety and, so far, trustworthy even if he probably didn’t trust her. From the intensity of questioning he had subjected her to the previous afternoon, she was convinced he was trying to trip her up. Proving her innocence was going to be a challenge. Despite that, he was the one bright light in the whole ruinous tangle of her life. She felt nothing but gratitude to him for rescuing her from a sticky situation. But he bothered her. There was something about him, some elusive aspect to his personality, which made her ill at ease. Lucy’s instincts told her he was holding back, but whether it was on a personal or investigative level, she could not be sure. Saving face in front of him had become important, even though she wasn’t sure why it mattered as he already knew her darkest secrets.
Lucy looked about the room, suddenly restless; she had to escape the house or she would go mad. Her duties at the hospital would take her mind off things, but Stone had commanded she stay at home with the doors locked. He had left strict instructions with Mary not to let anyone in other than him or the police. True to his word, McQuillan had organised an extra officer on duty, but the sight of him walking up and down Abbey Gardens only made Lucy feel more caged in. It was unbearable. What harm could there be in going out for a few hours?
As she suspected she was being watched as much as protected, Lucy deliberately sneaked out to the rear laneway when escaping the house just after midday. But her bravery didn’t last long, and the entire journey by cab was fraught. Danger lurked around every corner and in the glance of every stranger she encountered. Stone’s assertion that Marsh had people everywhere was foremost in her mind.
The Royal Free Hospital
Lucy spent the afternoon sitting with an elderly lady who dozed on and off as she read to her from the newspaper. It wasn’t stimulating company but at least she was being useful. When visiting time was over, she walked slowly down the main staircase of the hospital, dreading the return to Abbey Gardens.
“Hello there, stranger,” a female voice greeted her. Walking across the hall was Lady Sarah Strawbridge, magnificent in a green visiting ensemble. Petite and blond, the younger daughter of an earl and married to a rising Tory politician, Lady Sarah moved in high society and was acquainted with anyone of importance. Her vivaciousness had endeared her to Lucy immediately on first meeting her several years before. They had become firm friends.
“Sarah! I hoped you would be here today. Are you on your way home?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, I was just about to call for my carriage but I don’t have to be home for another hour. I wasn’t expecting to see you back here so soon. Shall we take tea?” Sarah asked, her eyes alight. “Did Yorkshire not agree with you? Were the natives unfriendly?”
“You could say that; it was, in fact, a nightmare!”
“I must have all the details, my dear. Shall we visit our usual?” Sarah asked.
Lucy agreed, eager to escape any prying eyes and ears in the busy hospital hallway.
Once settled in a private booth in the tea shop around the corner from the hospital, Lucy poured out her adventures to Sarah. By the time Lucy was finished, her friend was staring at her in horror, her tea untouched.
“My dear Lucy, I am astounded. This is ghastly. Whatever was your husband up to?”
“No good and on a very grand scale!”
“Indeed. But more importantly, you cannot stay in that house alone—it isn’t safe. You must come and stay with us.”
“Thank you, but if I leave the house unattended, I fear Richard will take possession, change the locks, and then I will be homeless,” Lucy explained.
“Is he capable of such an act?”
“Sarah, have you not been listening? Of course he is. It didn’t bother him in the least to accuse me in the wrong and leave me to my fate. He did his best to convince the police and the insurance company that I had stolen Mother’s pearls. So yes, I do believe he is capable of making even more trouble, given half a chance.”
“That is shocking bad form,” Sarah said, “You must cut him off!”
Sarah’s indignation on her behalf warmed her heart, but her suggestion made her chuckle. “But he … all of them, have cut me. Again!
“Seriously Lucy, you need to protect yourself,” Sarah replied with a frown.
“Only tell me how, my friend. I’m trapped. I have little or no money, a master criminal who is convinced I have his stolen gems and an insurance agent and the police thinking I was complicit in the original theft. It wouldn’t surprise me if they are watching me too, waiting for me to abscond with the gems. They are very clever, you see. It’s all under the guise of giving me protection.”
“Nonsense, Lucy. Isn’t that a trifle paranoid? Do you want Geoffrey to speak to the police? He will vouch for you.”
“No, Sarah. There is no need to involve you or your husband in this disaster.”
“On the contrary, I hope you realise Geoffrey and I would be only too happy to help you in any way, including a loan, if that is of any benefit to you.”
Lucy grasped her hand in gratitude. “Thank you, but I am not desperate enough to impose on my friends. My hope is Mr Stone finds the sapphires before this Marsh character decides it’s time I join Charlie in Kensal Green Cemetery.”
“Don’t speak so!” Sarah said with a shudder. Then she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Would the Mr Stone you refer to be the Phineas Stone?”
“The very same. Do you know him? I was hoping you could tell me something about him.”
Sarah sat back, looking pleased. “Top up your tea, my dear, this may take a while. Everyone knows the lovely Phin. I can give you all the details. Do you want the whole family tree or the pertinent details?”
Lucy smiled. “The abridged version, please.”
“Splendid! The family hail from Kent. Landowners for hundreds of years, no coronets in the old family tree but highly respected and all that. The father is still alive. If I remember rightly, Mrs Stone passed away about eight years ago. Phineas has two brothers. Andrew is the eldest and as dull as dishwater, not as clever or handsome as Phin and word is he is extremely jealous of his successful and popular brother. The other brother, whose name I cannot recall, is in the army, stationed in India, I understand. Phin has two sisters, both married, one living abroad, the other lives in Devon somewhere with a promising and rather large family.” Sarah picked up her cup and regarded Lucy from above the rim.
