It wasn’t entirely your fault.
The Plague Doctor warned me Anna would betray me. Why would he do that when it was Daniel who was lying to me? And why would he tell me there were only three people trying to escape this house, when there are four? He’s gone out of his way to conceal Daniel’s duplicity.
‘I’ve been so blind,’ I say, hollowly.
‘What’s wrong?’ says Anna, pulling away and looking at me with concern.
I falter, my mind clicking into gear as embarrassment gives way to cold calculation. Daniel’s lies were elaborate, but their purpose remains obscure. I could understand him trying to earn my trust if he wanted to profit from my investigation, but that’s not the case. He’s barely asked about it. Quite the contrary; he gave me a head start by telling me it was Evelyn who would be murdered at the ball, and he warned me about the footman.
I can no longer call him a friend, but I can’t be certain he’s an enemy either. I need to know where he stands, and the best way of doing that is to maintain the illusion of ignorance until he reveals his true intentions.
I have to begin with Anna.
God help us if she let anything slip to Derby, or Dance. Their first reaction to a problem is to run at it, even if it’s wrapped in thorns.
Anna’s watching me, waiting for an answer.
‘I know something,’ I say, meeting her eyes. ‘Something that matters to both of us, but I can’t tell you what it is.’
‘You’re worried about changing the day,’ she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Don’t worry, this book’s full of things I’m not allowed to tell you.’ She smiles, her concern washing away. ‘I trust you, Aiden. I wouldn’t be here, if I didn’t.’
Holding out a hand, she helps me off the floor.
‘We can’t stay in this corridor,’ she says. ‘I’m only alive because he doesn’t know who I am. If he sees us together, I won’t live long enough to help you.’ She smooths her apron and straightens her cap, dropping her chin enough to appear diffident. ‘I’ll go ahead. Meet me outside Bell’s bedroom in ten minutes and keep your eyes open. Once the footman’s healed up, he’ll be looking for you.’
I agree, but I have no intention of waiting in this draughty corridor. Everything that’s happening today has Helena Hardcastle’s fingerprints on it. I need to speak with her and this might be my last chance.
Still nursing my injured pride and ribs, I look for her in the drawing room, finding only a few early risers gossiping about how Derby was hauled off by Stanwin’s thug. Sure enough, his plate of eggs and kidneys is sitting on the table, where he discarded it. It’s still warm, he can’t have long departed. Nodding to them, I make my way to Helena’s bedroom, but knocking on her door brings only silence. Running short of time, I kick it open, shattering the lock.
That’s the mystery of who broke in solved.
The curtains are drawn, the tangled sheets on the four-poster bed trailing off the mattress onto the floor. The room has the soiled atmosphere of a troubled sleep, the sweat of nightmares as yet unwashed by fresh air. The wardrobe is open, a vanity table covered in spilled powder from a large tin, cosmetics torn open and pushed aside, suggesting Lady Hardcastle attended her toilet in something of a hurry. Laying my hand on the bed, I find it cold. She’s already been gone some time.
Just as when I visited this room with Millicent Derby, the roll-down bureau stands open, today’s page torn from Helena’s day-planner and the lacquered gun case emptied of the two revolvers it should contain. Evelyn must have taken them very early this morning, probably after receiving the note compelling her to commit suicide. She would have had no trouble slipping through the connecting door from her bedroom after her mother left.
But if she intends on shooting herself with the revolver, why does she end up using the silver pistol Derby stole from Doctor Dickie instead? And why would she take both revolvers from the case? I know she gives one to Michael to use on the hunt, but I can’t imagine that was foremost in her mind after discovering her own life, and that of her friend, was being threatened.
My eyes drift towards the day-planner and its torn-out page. Is this also Evelyn’s work, or is somebody else responsible? Millicent suspected Helena Hardcastle.
Running my fingertip along the torn edge, I let myself worry.
I’ve seen Helena’s appointments in Lord Hardcastle’s planner, so I know the missing page refers to her meetings with Cunningham, Evelyn, Millicent Derby, the stablemaster and Ravencourt. The only one of those I can be certain Helena Hardcastle kept is with Cunningham. He admitted it to Dance, and his ink-smudged fingerprints are all over the pages.
I slam the book closed in agitation. There’s still so much I don’t understand and I’m running short of time.
Ideas gnaw at me as I head upstairs to Anna who’s pacing back and forth outside Bell’s bedroom, examining the sketchbook in her hands. I can hear muffled voices on the other side of the door. Daniel must be talking to Bell in there, which means the butler is down in the kitchen with Mrs Drudge. He’ll be along shortly.
‘Have you seen Gold? He should already be here,’ says Anna, staring into the shadows, perhaps hoping to carve him out of the gloom with the sharpness of her glare.
‘I haven’t,’ I say, looking around nervously. ‘Why are we here?’
‘The footman will kill the butler and Gold this morning, unless we get them somewhere safe, where I can protect them,’ she says.
‘Like the gatehouse.’
‘Exactly. Only it can’t look like that’s what we’re doing. If it does, the footman will know who I am and kill me, as well. If he thinks I’m just a nursemaid, and they’re too injured to be a threat, he’ll leave us be for a little while, and that’s what we want. The book reckons they’ve still got a role to play in all this, assuming we can keep them alive.’