Anatomy of Murder

5

Knowing that Harriet and Crowther were to attend the second performance of Julius Rex that night, Mrs. Service had arranged for dinner to be brought forward, and so the company sat down at the rather country hour of four o’clock. The interim had been consumed with an intense debate between Harriet and Crowther as to the wisdom of going immediately to see Mr. Tompkins’s acquaintance, Gladys, with only Mr. Bywater’s picture in their hands, or whether they should wait till Mr. Crumley’s artistry had provided them with a full set of the leading figures at the opera house. Harriet wished to go at once. Crowther urged caution and was in the end successful, if only because the time had become impossibly short. Susan they had delivered back into the bosom of the household as soon as the carriage had drawn up. Beyond hearing Graves’s general greeting as he returned from the shop and various footsteps throughout their discussion, the rest of the household did not enter the library.

“Fitzraven must have been attempting to blackmail Bywater,” Harriet stated with great determination. “He went to visit Leacroft as soon as he saw the parts for the duet. He wished any romance between Bywater and Isabella to end, and no doubt thought he could put some of Bywater’s wages in his pocket too. He would never have been able to resist. No doubt he told Bywater what he knew and arranged for him to visit and discuss terms on Thursday afternoon, then they fought.”

Crowther leaned against the library desk, watching her stride back and forth in front of the fire like a general.

“But what of the French, Mrs. Westerman? What of the spies and Mr. Palmer?”

Harriet threw up her hands. “Whatever else they are guilty of, perhaps they are innocent of this. Mr. Palmer himself thought it odd that Fitzraven was killed.”

Harriet was surprised to find a certain uneasiness in the air when they sat down at table. Graves remained polite, but was distinctly reserved. Rachel looked serious and quiet, and Susan looked rather unhappy and confused. When Graves begged for a moment of her time before she went to dress for the evening therefore, Harriet followed him into the library with a feeling of distinct dread.

Graves stood in front of the fireplace and put his hands behind his back, rocking forward off his heels. He looked steadfastly at the floor in front of him. Harriet began to attempt some light remark but was cut off.

“Really, Mrs. Westerman, I must ask you what you are about.”

Harriet took in a breath, but Graves continued at once.

“Lady Susan is eleven years old, yet you bundled her out of this house and took her to an asylum. Took her to visit a madman of whose temperament you knew little, and that little only by report. Took her to a place, a situation, that sounds unpleasant at best and involved her-intimately involved her-in the investigation of a murder. All this without a word to her guardian or friends. I must ask you again, what are you about, madam?” Now he looked up. His face was flushed and he repeated slowly with bell-like clarity: “She is eleven years old.”

Harriet said in a rush, with a smiling placatory tone, “Graves! You were not to be found, and I believe Susan enjoyed the visit. She got along with Leacroft quite famously, you know.” She found as she finished that her pulse was running rather fast.

“Indeed, Mrs. Westerman. Such is the nature of Susan’s open, good heart I find my ward has promised to watch over this gentleman’s interests. Lady Susan will be noticed as a regular visitor to this dreadful place, thanks to you. And I returned from the lawyers to the shop within an hour of your departure. You knew perfectly well if you had only a little patience, you would find me there during the day.”

“But Mr. Leacroft, it seems, is a family friend. You are possibly acquainted with him yourself!”

“So Susan informs me. But you did not know that, Mrs. Westerman, did you? The man could have been raving! Even if Trevelyan had told you he was not dangerous, can you tell me you had assurances from him, or from anyone, that he was suitable company for an eleven-year-old girl?”

“I did not think-”

“That much is clear, madam. You must think more about the consequences of your actions. You trust again and again to luck and your own forward momentum. At some point you will seriously harm those near to you, who can do nothing to defend themselves against the damage you bring.”

Harriet had been listening angrily, feeling her face growing hot, but at this last a vicious little bud blossomed in her mind and she said with a quick shake of her head, “My sister has made you her confidante, I see, in the matter of her concerns as to my behavior.”

Graves looked a little disgusted. Harriet could tell he was clasping his hands together hard behind his back. She felt her own nails beginning to dig into her palms.

“She has done no such thing. But if she has made mention to you of such concerns already, I wish to God, madam, you had listened to her! Miss Trench is a model of good behavior without ever losing her naturalness. And she is possessed of remarkable good sense.”

Harriet felt a jealous flame in her throat. The world seemed suddenly unjust in the extreme. Her words came spitting out, hot and angry as grapeshot. “Yes, and she can make up a dozen foul-smelling recipes from the Household Doctor!” She held onto the back of one of the armchairs hard enough to whiten her knuckles and showed her teeth in an unnatural smile. “She is a paragon of all virtues. I admit it. The community round Caveley declare it, just as they used to in my father’s parish, and now she is lauded here! Perhaps her virtues even exceed those of Miss Chase. Poor Verity, and just when she has persuaded her father to spend her marriage portion on buying the shop for you from the estate, but instead it seems so overwhelming are my sister’s attractions, you will be too busy cutting out Daniel Clode to make use of it. And as to Susan and Jonathan, where would they be now if it were not for my headstrong ways and Crowther’s knives you all shrink from so!”

She came to a sudden stop, looking at the pain flickering in his young, kind face, and in the silence that followed began to realize with a cold sort of horror what she had just said.

Graves spoke softly. “The children had other friends.” His hand traveled unconsciously to the right side of his waistcoat, as if the scar there he had received from a blade the previous year had woken and needed calming. He had defended the children. He had put his own flesh between them and danger. Harriet found herself dumb with sudden shame. She could admit she liked to think herself rather above her fellow creatures at times, but when Rachel was praised above her, when her own actions were condemned, she found herself behaving like a jealous child. If Stephen had spoken as she just had, she would have been ashamed of him.

Graves moved away from the fireplace and sat down heavily in one of the armchairs.

“I do not care what you do, Mrs. Westerman. I am well aware of the debt we owe you. But Susan and Jonathan both look up to you so much. You are a model to them. They must live in the world and learn to do so soberly and decently, despite their wealth, the history of their blood. I am trying to guide them. Yet you do these things. . Remember they look to you, that is all I ask.”

Harriet took a step toward him. “Graves, I am so very sorry!” He did not look at her. “And what I said about Rachel and Verity-it is such nonsense.” He twisted painfully in his chair. “I am weary, yet this business has lit up my brain and carries me forward.” Harriet sat down in the armchair alongside his own and put her head in her hands.

Graves looked at her with alarm. “Oh good Lord, Mrs. Westerman! You won’t cry, will you?” he said, sounding much younger again. “You can’t behave so abominably then take such a feminine way out. Unfair!”

Harriet gave a rather damp snort. “No, Graves, I promise you I shall not.” She looked up at him. “I am sorry though. It was wrong to take Susan, and I knew it the moment we arrived, but by then. . though I’m glad I did.” Graves opened his mouth to protest again. “No, truly! She was so wonderful with him, Graves. We would never have managed without her. And when she told that horrid Gaskin she would burn down his house if he destroyed anymore of Leacroft’s music. .”

Graves shook his head with a reluctant laugh. “Oh, she did, did she? I was only told she’d asked the man to send Leacroft’s music here. Of course, she told me about ‘C’e una rosa.’” He turned his head away and fell into a study of the fire. “She is a remarkable girl. I wish I had met her mother. In fact, it seems as if I am surrounded with remarkable women. Verity is planning on buying me out, is she? Giving me the chance to work for my living?”

“You work very hard for your living and your wards. No one thinks otherwise but you. Yes, I believe that is her plan. But I understand she doubts if you still hold her in the same regard.”

Graves smiled gently into the fire. “She is the only person in the world who could do so. Though I cannot ask her to be my wife under the circumstances, I think of her every moment.” Then he added, looking at Harriet with an eyebrow raised, “At least, when I am not trying to save the children from your pernicious influence.”

Harriet let herself smile and placed a hand on his sleeve. Graves nodded to the clock on the mantelpiece. “You should go and dress, Mrs. Westerman. And Stephen made me promise to ask you to come and kiss him good night before you leave. I think he wishes to see his mama in her finery. And he has something to ask you. He has thought about it quite carefully, so I would ask that you listen.”

Harriet rose. “Thank you, Graves. You are a better friend than I deserve.”

“No, Mrs. Westerman. Rather the world does not deserve you. But here you are, you and your dashings, and Mr. Crowther and his knives, and we must learn how to make best use of you. Enjoy the performance. You will not see a better opera in London for five years.”

She left and made her way slowly up to her own chamber.