Brown shrugged his shoulders as if the question had never occurred to him. "I regret I cannot tell you. I don't believe I ever knew."

Joshua sank back into his pillows, half closing his eyes. "That is a pity, for it is that fact which interests me most, my friend, not the legend. No matter, with what you have told me I will soon discover it."

Brown gave a hefty yawn and came slowly to his feet. "I have no doubt you will, sir," he said, amiable as ever, "but now, however pressing it seems, I recommend you let it wait. After our recent ordeal, what we both need is a good night's sleep."

Left alone, Joshua pondered the implications of what he had learned. He had grasped the significance of Brown's statement the moment the words left his lips. Now he strung these new pieces together with what he already knew. The countess had come from Beechwood, an estate that was linked in several ways with Astley. Having been cheated of an inheritance by a profligate mother, her only surviving child would have a strong motive to wish to regain possession of the necklace. There were only two questions he had now to ask himself: who was that child, and was he or she the murderer?

Faces and images seemed to flash upon Joshua's mind's eye like exploding pyrotechnics. Beechwood. He had heard it mentioned by Mrs. Bowles and now by Lancelot Brown, but where else? He envisaged Caroline Bentnick's terrorized expression the night Sabine had insisted she wear the necklace. He remembered her calmness when she tended his wounds, her lack of concern at Herbert's threats regarding the necklace, and her dreadful death. He relived the terrible moment that his own role in this first struck him, and Herbert's accusation and his banishment.

It was not until the clock chimed eight that he came to his senses again. Two theories had emerged in his mind with diamond clarity: the reason for the necklace's disappearance and the ident.i.ty of the countess's child.

But theory was not enough. By allowing his mind to run on and by speaking injudiciously, he had made too many false accusations. Until he was certain, until no glimmer of doubt remained, he would keep his thoughts to himself.

Joshua rang the bell on his side table and summoned Peters. He asked for a writing box and, when this was delivered, sent Peters to the library in search of a historical gazetteer for the county of Bedford. In no time Peters returned bearing a large red morocco-bound tome tooled in gold with the Bentnick family crest emblazoned on the front.

"Is that all, sir?" enquired the footman, putting the book down carefully on the side table.

"Pa.s.s it to me, if you please," said Joshua urgently. No sooner had the door closed behind Peters than Joshua began to search its pages. It took him ten minutes or so to find what he was looking for, whereupon he nodded sagely to himself. This was just as he expected. Then he put the book to one side and began composing a letter to Herbert Bentnick.

Chapter Forty-six.

Astley House, Richmond

Sir, I cannot blame you for holding me partly accountable for your daughter's murder. I too feel burdened by guilt, and it is that sentiment which spurs me to write this to you now. Unless I explain my conclusions, her death, as well as that of Mr. h.o.a.re, will have been in vain. Thus, despite your misgivings, I would implore you to read this communication and consider its contents most seriously.

During my enquiries several members of your circle, including you, sir, have fallen under the shadow of suspicion. There was never any doubt in my mind that your poor daughter, Caroline, was strangled because the murderer believed she could identify him or her. I also think that the murderer may have concluded this as a result of an ill-considered remark Caroline made to me on the terrace. Far more complex was the first killing. Bartholomew h.o.a.re was at first identified as John Cobb. Neither man was a member of your household. Thus the key questions were these: How was h.o.a.re murdered? What was he doing on your property? Was h.o.a.re, or Cobb, the intended victim?

I believe (though I cannot prove it conclusively) that h.o.a.re was poisoned by unripe pineapple, probably mixed with wine and honey to make it palatable. Unripe pineapple is a powerful purgative, though it is not usually lethal. In poor h.o.a.re's case it was certainly strong enough to cause him to lose consciousness, although the actual cause of his death may may have been accidental. Granger confessed that, as misfortune would have it, the boy whose duty it was to regulate the temperature of the pinery at night fell asleep on the night h.o.a.re died. The heat within the building grew so intense that, coupled with the poison, it was enough to kill him. have been accidental. Granger confessed that, as misfortune would have it, the boy whose duty it was to regulate the temperature of the pinery at night fell asleep on the night h.o.a.re died. The heat within the building grew so intense that, coupled with the poison, it was enough to kill him.

Having learned how h.o.a.re died, let us next consider what he was doing there in the first place. Cobb told me he received an invitation, purporting to be from Violet, asking him to a nocturnal rendezvous in the gardens at Astley. He was prevented from keeping the appointment by h.o.a.re, who, worried that Cobb might persuade Violet to run away with him, plied Cobb with brandy on the pretext that it would be good for his ailing health. When Cobb drank so much that he fell to the floor in a stupor, h.o.a.re went in his place.

Although I hesitated to believe you capable of killing your own daughter, I confess I fleetingly considered the likelihood that you were in some manner involved in the first death. Your fondness for Mrs. Mercier might have led you to murder h.o.a.re because he was acting for the claimant for her necklace and thus threatened to remove from her a jewel that she held exceptionally dear. Violet reported seeing you in a clandestine rendezvous with Mrs. Bowles. Was Mrs. Bowles Charles Mercier's daughter? I pursued this theory for some time, only to discover she was nothing of the kind. Your meeting was merely a means of arranging a secret gift for your future bride.

I turned then to the source of this malicious rumor, Violet Mercier. h.o.a.re was an obstacle between herself and Cobb, with whom, despite her denials and letters to the contrary, she was engaged in a clandestine affair. h.o.a.re discovered the truth and threatened to reveal it to Sabine. It would have been easy for Violet, with Cobb's connivance, to write the letter luring h.o.a.re to the pinery, and leave Cobb to poison him with a substance whose effects she well knew from her mother, while she went to London for a few days. Perhaps, too, Violet stole the necklace, intending that the money raised from its sale would finance her life with Cobb. She might subsequently have returned it when she discovered that Cobb's financial circ.u.mstances had changed (I will explain this presently) and that the theft was no longer necessary.

Sabine Mercier had two equally compelling motives. First, she was troubled by the possibility she would lose the necklace she treasured so dearly; second, she was worried that her daughter was poised to elope with a penniless attorney from Bridgetown-Cobb. If she had had sent the message to the inn asking Cobb to meet her late at night in the gardens at Astley, she could not have foreseen that h.o.a.re would arrive in his place; nor, since she had never met either man, would she have recognized that it was h.o.a.re not Cobb whom she poisoned. sent the message to the inn asking Cobb to meet her late at night in the gardens at Astley, she could not have foreseen that h.o.a.re would arrive in his place; nor, since she had never met either man, would she have recognized that it was h.o.a.re not Cobb whom she poisoned.

A further possibility only struck me more recently: Lizzie Manning, whose family misfortunes, it transpires, have been largely brought about by Cobb. Arthur Manning and he met at a gaming house in Richmond and after two or three evenings' play, Cobb relieved his opponent of two thousand pounds drawn upon Barlow Court. Lizzie kept her brother's circ.u.mstances concealed from me; furthermore, from the very beginning she insisted on involving herself in my investigations into h.o.a.re's death. She inveigled her way into my bedchamber after she learned I had acquired Cobb's bag, in which the banknotes drawn upon the family account were hidden. Thus I asked myself, did she kill h.o.a.re, believing him to be Cobb, in a desperate attempt to recoup her brother's losses?

And so, my dear sir, we come to the inevitable questions. Who among this wretched cast of players was the guilty culprit who killed h.o.a.re and then, to preserve this evil secret, killed poor Caroline? Which of them stole the necklace, and for what motive? I now believe the answer to the first question is, none of them.

My final revelation has come only tonight, after a conversation with our mutual acquaintance Mr. Lancelot "Capability" Brown. As you know, the necklace came into the possession of Charles Mercier after it was lost some decades ago by a certain countess, who wagered it on a hand of cards. If you ask Brown he will tell you the sad history of this lady. Once you have heard it, I advise you to consult the historical gazetteer of Bedfordshire, which I borrowed from your library and have left by my bed. The answer to this mystery is to be found within the entry for Beechwood House, near Luton, on page 414. The truth lies before us all in its details.

As to why the necklace was taken and then returned, thus far I know only part of the story. It had nothing to do with the claimant, a certain Nell Lambton, who died, apparently from poverty, shortly after she received a visit from Sabine Mercier. It was your own daughter who took it, in her dread that Mrs. Mercier would force her to wear it at the forthcoming ball. Caroline detested Mrs. Mercier, for she believed her responsible for the death of her mother-whether this was so is impossible for me to ascertain-and for this she developed a morbid dread of the jewel and Mrs. Mercier herself.

Before I follow your wish and leave Astley, I intend to verify all of this by approaching the culprit. I am aware that in doing so my own life may be jeopardized, but I view it as recompense for my foolhardy conversation that cost your daughter her life. I set these facts down here so that, no matter what fate holds for me, you will know what happened and decide what should be done.

I am, sir, your humble servant, Joshua Pope

Chapter Forty-seven.

NEXT DAY the clouds had lifted and the deluge was spent. At five minutes before nine, Joshua closed the side door to Astley House and walked, in blazing sunshine, through the kitchen gardens toward the gate where he had left his horse tethered the previous day. As he pa.s.sed by the pinery he remarked how magnificent the building looked, freshly washed by rain. Its gla.s.s panels sparkled in the morning light; the verdure of the plants within seemed more lush and bountiful than he remembered; truly, he thought, there were occasions when plants could seem as imposing and worthy of an artist's attentions as people.

Joshua caught sight of Granger busy inside the pinery. He looked as he always did, easy, complacent, rugged of hair, and regular of feature, apart from the disfiguring scar on his cheek. Hearing the crunch of Joshua's boots on the gravel path outside, Granger glanced up, but then, seeing who it was, he gave Joshua a brisk nod and continued with his work. Joshua progressed toward the atrium beneath the cupola, trying to ignore a lurching sensation in his stomach. His chin was held high. His letter was written and despatched; whatever happened now, the truth would be known.

As Joshua opened the door leading from the atrium to the pinery he saw that Granger was removing dead leaves from the larger pineapple plants with a small pair of shears. "Good day to you, Mr. Pope. Are you quite recovered?" said Granger, pausing between plants after Joshua bowed and bade him good morning. "I am astonished to see you so soon out of bed after yesterday ..."

"I am perfectly well, Mr. Granger. In fact I am returning directly to London. I felt I should exchange a few words with you before leaving."

Granger moved to the next plant and began to examine it closely for any imperfections of foliage, stroking each leaf with his long, delicate fingers. Even though it was stiflingly hot within the pinery, for some reason this gesture made Joshua shiver.

"Thank G.o.d we found you when we did, or you might not be so well recovered," said Granger.

Joshua could not allow this remark to pa.s.s unchallenged. "Forgive me, Mr. Granger, but were it not for a certain amount of good fortune and my own presence of mind, three people would have drowned. I believe I have you to thank for that dreadful event rather than for saving me. Indeed, that is why I have come."

"What do you mean? I warned you not to enter there, did I not?" His voice was calm, yet laden with perplexity.

"You warned me, but you left a trap that you knew I would not ignore."

Granger's affectation of bewilderment continued. He shook his head, half smiling. "I fear I do not comprehend, sir."

"I mean that when Mr. Brown arrived earlier yesterday at Astley and mentioned he was waiting for my arrival, you must have feared that he had connected recent events here with the history of Beechwood. You knew Brown had been commissioned to work at Beechwood some years ago, and told me as much yourself. You crept up on him while he was alone in the grotto, struck him on the head, trussed him up, and dragged him to the inner chamber. You probably knew he wasn't dead, but instead of despatching him forthwith, you decided to lure me to the grotto when I arrived, and then put an end to two troublesome birds with a single murderous flood, which you could easily pa.s.s off as an accident."

Granger shook his head as if what had been said was too ludicrous to warrant denying. "I'm sorry, sir, but what has my time at Beechwood to do with any of this? I have made no secret of it."

"Beechwood is your motive, Granger. You should have been its heir. Your mother was the ill-fated countess of Burghley, chatelaine of Beechwood and once the owner of the serpent necklace. Her tragic losses at cards set in motion this entire sequence of events. Brown told me little I had not discovered except for two crucial pieces of information: the countess lived at Beechwood and she had a child who survived her. Brown didn't know her name or that of her child, but it was an easy matter for me to consult a historical gazetteer of Bedfordshire. I soon found the relevant entry, which names the previous inc.u.mbent as Sybil Granger, countess of Burghley, mother of two sons, one deceased."

With this Granger raised himself up and gave Joshua a look of curious superiority, as if Joshua were a strange beetle that he had spied upon a leaf and it was a dozen halfpennies to sixpence whether he would squash him beneath his boot or place him in his hand. "How do you know this orphaned child and I are one and the same?"

"You were recognized by Mrs. Bowles, who was raised in the same village. That was why you were deep in conversation with her the other day. There is a very fine portrait hanging in your parlor of a lady who I hazard is your mother. The arms on the cup in her hand are doubtless those of the Burghley family, your family, for since the death of your brother and father you have been Earl Burghley."

"Does your theory rest only upon my t.i.tle?"

"No, for Mrs. Mercier found h.o.a.re, but of course it should have been you, for it is your practice, I have remarked, to go to the pinery first thing every morning, and you later told me that earlier that morning, on discovering the boy had fallen asleep, you took steps to regulate the heat. To open the windows you must have stepped over the body. At the very least you would have seen the damaged pots lying about, yet you said nothing."

Joshua was watching Granger's profile as he spoke and he saw it undergo a most remarkable transformation. The muscles in his jaw twitched, a vein in his neck bulged, and his entire expression seemed to bunch up with unpredictable, unmistakable hostility. He paused, waiting for Granger's response, but Granger said nothing. After a while Joshua saw he didn't need to hear his answer, for there was guilt written in every fiber of him.

"You also said you were too busy with your work to see Caroline or her a.s.sailant go into the pinery. You lied in Caroline's case, but you told the truth regarding the a.s.sailant-you saw no one because the a.s.sailant was you."

Again there was a long silence, during which Granger continued steadily shearing off leaves. The only signs of his inner agitation were the speed with which he cut and snipped and the droplets of sweat that ran in conspicuous rivulets down his face. Eventually he was forced to stop snipping and wipe his face with the back of his hand. As he did so the violence in his manner seemed to ebb a little. He had the resigned manner of a man of substance surveying his domain before relinquishing it. "You speak as if you know everything, but what can you know of my sufferings? My life has been ruined by my mother's folly. By the turn of a card in the hand of a frivolous woman the earl of Burghley has become a gardener. Is that just?"

"The same thing, give or take a little, has happened to Miss Manning. You told me so yourself. Yet she has managed to restrain herself from resorting to murder."

"She tried other unconventional methods to retrieve her property, though, did she not?"

The knowing smile that accompanied this retort made Joshua's cheeks burn. Surely he couldn't know of Lizzie's nocturnal visit to his chamber? Joshua had no chance to probe him on this matter before Granger continued.

"The necklace does belong to me. It has virtually jumped into my hand. When Mr. Bentnick picked his new bride from thousands of miles away and she arrived wearing the necklace, I read that as a sign of destiny: a sign my situation was about to be redressed. The cruel fate that had deprived me of my inheritance had returned it within my orbit. I was destined to pursue it."

"It was a great coincidence, was it not, to find yourself working at the residence of the woman who had your mother's necklace?"

Granger shook his head and smiled. "It was no coincidence. I followed it, as I have followed other possessions of hers, although I will allow that fate helped. The portrait you mentioned was the first thing I recovered. I took it from a place where I was employed last year. The necklace was to be the second. The fact my mother lost it in Barbados to Charles Mercier was no secret. When Mr. Bentnick's betrothal was announced, and along with that, he put out word he wanted a gardener with knowledge of rearing pineapples, I could hardly resist applying. I read up on the subject and convinced him I knew more than anyone else."

Joshua nodded his head knowingly. "I am not without sympathy for your case. But as I said, the evil acts you committed allow no justification."

"Why should I justify anything to you, when a higher force has propelled my actions? h.o.a.re died as a result of an opportunity that presented itself. Caroline Bentnick died as a result of injudicious talk. None of this happened by my instigation. Fate decreed it."

Granger seemed to be growing agitated. But Joshua would never rest easy unless he discovered the truth, and Granger was the only person alive who knew it.

"Why did you kill h.o.a.re?"

"To protect the necklace. Because he threatened to remove it from Astley and hand it to the b.a.s.t.a.r.d daughter of the man who robbed my mother. It had only just come within my grasp and he wanted to take it away. I might never have regained possession of it if that had happened."

"And so you lured him to the pinery?"

"No. As I said, it was all done for me. Sabine Mercier did it."

"How so?"

"She wrote to Cobb, disguising her hand as her daughter's, asking him to a nocturnal meeting. She wanted to try to dissuade him from eloping with her daughter. For some reason h.o.a.re arrived in Cobb's place. I knew who he was because I had watched him at the Star and Garter. But Sabine had never met either man and so she took it for granted he was Cobb. Anyway, the pair of them sat down in the atrium. She, pretending to be friendly, offered him a drink she had specially prepared, and then took him for a stroll round the pinery. I shadowed them, an easy enough task in the dark. As he felt the first cramps in his belly, Sabine told him the drink she had given him contained a preparation made from unripe pineapple that would kill him unless she gave him another draft to counter it. She added that he should know, however, that unless he promised to stop pursuing the affair with Violet, she wouldn't save him."

Joshua nodded. "What happened next?"

"h.o.a.re doubled over with cramps, cried out that he wasn't the man she believed him to be, he was Bartholomew h.o.a.re. She ignored him until he cried out he knew something that might help her: the name of the claimant. She listened then, and after h.o.a.re had told her, he begged for the second draught, but she laughed, saying none was necessary. He would be ill but he wouldn't die. He lost consciousness soon after. After she had gone I went to the hut where Joe, the night boy, sits. I told him he looked tired and suggested he sleep for a while. I would keep watch and wake him when I left. Then I went back to the pinery to check on h.o.a.re."

Joshua shook his head in an agony of realization. Of course, now he comprehended. h.o.a.re's death from overheating wasn't accidental: Granger had engineered it.

"At that moment Cobb came in, but he must have heard me and taken fright, for he took one look at h.o.a.re and ran off. I followed him a short distance, but in the end I decided I had no need to chase him. He was too afraid to cause further trouble."

Granger furrowed his brow and looked up, as if picturing the scene as he spoke. "What a vile spectacle h.o.a.re made, lying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of his own vomit. He was quite comatose, but breathing steadily. Standing there, I felt overwhelmed by fury at the sight of the man whose actions might keep me in my subservient position forever. I threw a few pots about, and though that didn't make me feel any better, it helped me determine how to proceed. I would leave him to cook. I closed all the windows. Within an hour or two the temperature in the pinery was quite sufficient. Next morning, when I arrived, I opened the windows and roused Joe, telling him he must have dreamed me saying he could sleep. I fined him two days' wages and made it clear he was lucky to keep his position. When Mrs. Mercier came, I didn't accompany her as usual; I let her go in first and find him. It entertained me to see her try to rouse him. She was dumbfounded to find him dead and her precious plants all in disarray."

Joshua shuddered at his coldhearted tone. "And having brought about h.o.a.re's death so callously, do you still feel nothing for him-no remorse whatsoever?"

Granger blinked slowly and began to walk toward Joshua, opening and shutting the shears as he did so. "No more than he or anyone felt for me, Mr. Pope. On the death of my mother, I was treated no better than some urchin destined for the workhouse. Not a soul showed any concern for me. I was treated as a servant, forced to work as an undergardener, to shovel dung and scythe gra.s.s till my hands bled and I could scarcely stand. Can you blame me?"

Joshua backed away, acutely aware of the danger he was in. "I do not wish to apportion blame, Mr. Granger, only to discover what happened. Was it you who attacked me at the barn?"

"It was. I had to take measures to put you off. You interfered in matters that didn't concern you."

"What about the necklace? When did you steal it?"

"I didn't. I intended to take it. I knew where it was, but I was going to bide my time. Once h.o.a.re was dead there was no hurry. I was sure it would remain in Mrs. Mercier's possession. And then, to my horror, I learned it was gone. It was many days before I discovered what had happened. That was why she had to die."

"Caroline Bentnick?" Joshua had convinced himself he had provoked Caroline's death. He could barely bring himself to raise the subject and hear Granger affirm his conviction.

"She said something that gave me no choice but to kill her."

This was what he had feared. "What did she say?" Joshua asked morosely.

"The morning of her death, just after you had returned the keys to me, Caroline met her brother in the sunken garden. I was pa.s.sing on the other side of the hedge and heard her talking to him quite clearly."

This wasn't what Joshua had expected. The conversation that he thought accountable had taken place the day before, on the terrace.

"What did she say?" he managed to mumble.

"Francis Bentnick asked her what she was doing. She told him she had taken the necklace from Mrs. Mercier's room, to avoid having to wear it at the ball, and that it was hidden in one of the pots containing an orange tree in the atrium of the pinery. Caroline said she had taken the necklace with the intention of returning it afterward, but she considered the matter further and decided that she detested the necklace so much it would be more prudent to dispose of it. She was about to go and dig it up, after which, she said, she would throw it in the lake."

"What did Francis say to that?"

"He said, 'What about Pope? Our father was threatening him with arrest.' But she said that was no more than a threat. He knew perfectly well that you had not taken it and would drop the whole matter in due course."

"And what did you do after the conversation?"

"I had no alternative. I followed her, I watched her retrieve it, then I killed her. I had to do so or my property would certainly have been lost."

A stillness hung in the air. Joshua's relief at not having been the cause of Caroline's death was tempered by the knowledge that she had deliberately placed him in his dreadful predicament and by the chilling tone of Granger's confession.

"At any rate, her death brought results in my favor. I didn't expect Mr. Bentnick to banish you, but you will well imagine I wasn't sorry when he did."

"And when I returned you decided to commit triple murder?"

Granger hesitated, as if he were weighing up whether to tell the truth or dissemble. "Again, I would not have chosen to do so, but you drove me to it. Miss Quick insisted on staying with you. I had no need to kill her. Brown had to be silenced because he knew something about my past. You made it so easy for me to accomplish. Instead of returning to the house with Lizzie Manning and Francis, I told them I had matters that needed my urgent attention. I returned to the octagon house, opened the trapdoor. I knew that within a few hours at the most the entire cavern would be full of water."

"It must have come as a disappointment to find us drenched but alive on the slope," Joshua said wryly.

"I didn't find you. It was Joe Carlton, the boy you left looking after your horse. He grew worried when you didn't return and happened upon Brown and Miss Quick. He ran to get a rope and then fetch me. Unfortunately I was within earshot of the house when he arrived, which is why Francis came too."

"Otherwise you might have made another attempt?"