The Ranleigh Question, page 10
part #2 of Lady Althea Mystery Series
“And what might that smile mean?” a voice close to her said.
She turned to Verlyn. “I find the sea air most agreeable, do you not?”
“Most agreeable, except when I am on a ship, and then I find myself turned into the worst sort of invalid. It is very wounding to my pride.”
Althea laughed. “At least you have had the experience to know. I have never set foot on anything bigger than a row boat.”
“I’m sure you would have a stronger stomach than I do. My brother tells me that nothing seems to perturb you. Even the sight of a corpse did nothing to shatter your unflappable calm.”
“So he told you about that, did he? I never imagined that unflappability was such an attractive quality.”
“One among many.”
Althea studied him a moment. “I wonder.” She looked fleetingly at Lady Batterslea, who at the moment was laughing at something Mr. Gregson had said. “Perhaps good humor and flattery might be more acceptable qualities in a woman.”
Verlyn caught her look. “A man of understanding would never trade insipid laughter for a true meeting of the minds.”
“Yes, of course. And your brother has a prodigious understanding.”
Jane approached at that moment and took Althea’s arm. “Shall we begin our stroll?”
“By all means.”
The group ambled along in twos and threes until they reached the path that led to the beach. Althea and Jane were accompanied by Verlyn, who maintained an innocuous flow of conversation about the current sunshine and the prospect for fine weather.
Their progress was hampered by the breeze that required the ladies to hold on to their skirts so as not to be tripped by the fabric. At one point, Althea heard a chuckle behind her, and turning, encountered the amused gaze of Norwich. She was at a loss to understand his amusement and then it occurred to her that the wind was pressing the fabric of all of the ladies’ muslin gowns very tightly to their legs. I suppose we must all of us look quite indecent, she thought nervously, and then, because the thought of her as a wanton femme fatal seemed completely absurd, she threw back her head and laughed aloud.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Norwich said, suddenly close behind her.
“Stand back sir, I’m sure the view is much better at the end of the line,” Althea replied, pausing so as to fall behind Verlyn and Jane.
He came up on her other side. “Indeed,” he said with a wry smile, “but I find that I crave your conversation more.”
“Well, I have never ceased to talk.”
“No, you haven’t.” He was quiet then and Althea studied him, trying to discern the nature of his current mood. He had been so distant of late that she longed to say something in order to sustain the conversation, but she didn’t know quite what to say.
“I gather from my brother that these ships we see are but a small portion of this ships that are sometimes moored here,” he said, obviously making an effort to find a neutral topic of conversation.
“The Admiralty must be a great boon to the town,” Althea replied.
“I think that the Navy is the town for most of the summer.”
“We certainly have much to thank the Navy for.”
“The naval men of my acquaintance are as fine a set of fellows as you will ever meet,” Norwich replied.
“I’m afraid I have very limited experience with the Navy. I know that my father attended an Admiral or two, but for the most part, he was only called in when they were nothing short of death. Apparently, they did not have much interest in treatment until it couldn’t be helped.”
“That fits with my experience, as well. They are not the sort to fancy themselves ill.”
Althea was about to reply when Jane said, “Look over there. What can they be gathered there for?” She pointed to a group of people standing beside the long pier. They were clustered around a bracken-covered form stretched out on the sand. The group was bickering amongst themselves – the men’s voices raised in anger. One of them reached down and turned the lump over. It was clearly quite heavy. Two gulls circled overhead, very interested in that section of the beach.
Althea had a sudden sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. She looked around. The group behind them were still engaged in conversation and the rest of the party some ways ahead were also. She said with feigned lightness, “Why don’t you stay here, dear Jane. Perhaps His Grace will be so kind as to come with me in order to investigate.” And then she set off at a brisk pace before Norwich could stop her, striding across the expanse of sand towards the group.
Norwich grabbed her arm as he caught up to her, “Now see here, Althea —”
She gave him a sharp look. “It is a dead body. I would know the human form anywhere. Please don’t make a scene. It will be unpleasant enough as it is when our party notices what is going on.”
“Surely this poor unfortunate isn’t a concern of yours,” and then, when it was clear she was going whether he liked it or not, “I’m coming with you.”
The group around the body consisted of three scruffy older men, a young laborer with a long-handled shovel draped casually over his shoulder, and a blousy young woman with an indecently low-cut bodice. The men noticed Norwich first and immediately stopped the argument. They regarded him with a measure of respect and hostility.
The young lady, who had her back to Althea and Norwich, continued on, “I think it is that fine tall gentleman what was staying in the Blue Bottle not three nights ago.”
“And how would you know anything about a fine tall gentleman at the Blue Bottle?” the young man said suspiciously.
“Leave off your ideas, Joe. Big Meg over at the Blue Bottle told me what they had a gentleman staying with a blue coat and silver buttons. He done and lost one and Meg found it back behind the bar, see, which made her think just what sort of trouble a bloke like that could have done back behind the bar.”
The young man hardly seemed mollified but was cut off from reply by Norwich saying in his imposing voice, “Just what do we have here?”
One of the older men kicked at the brown lump. “’Tis a gift of the sea, Governor. Bill here,” he stuck a thumb out in the direction of another man with a dirty cap, wet shirt and stained breeches, “found him down around a post of the pier here and drug him out. We was just arguing about what to do with him.”
“I’m sure you were. Well, I’ll tell you what to do. One of you can run off and find the magistrate.” He turned to Bill. “You there, look lively and go find him. There’s a coin in it for you if you are quick about it.”
The man shuffled off in what might charitably be considered a trot. Althea crouched down and took a good look at the corpse. The body had been turned face up. It was significantly more bloated than the baron had been, making Althea think that he must have gone into the water several days before. The face would be difficult to identify because the skin was beginning to peel away, but even though the clothing was covered with a layer of silt and plant matter, it remained intact. The blue coat was a soggy blackish gray, but the silver buttons seemed good as new.
Norwich forced the other people to stand back from the body and was soon joined by Verlyn.
“I told the rest of the party to go on to the inn without us. So is this what it looks like?” Verlyn said.
Norwich nodded. “Yes. These fine people found him under the pier and hauled him out.”
Althea noticed that Norwich took pains to avoid looking at the corpse, but Verlyn apparently had a stronger stomach because he crouched down beside Althea. “Do you think he drowned?”
“Perhaps afterwards. A bullet got him first.” She pointed to a section of the head just behind the ear. The hair was gone and the skull dented inwards. “The bullet is likely still in the brain because I don’t see an exit wound on the face. A small gun. Perhaps even a lady’s pistol.”
Verlyn nodded. “Do we have any sense of who he might be?”
The young lady crouched down beside them and gave Verlyn an engaging smile. “He was a fine gentleman what stayed at the Blue Bottle Inn. Big Meg would know what name he signed in the books.”
“Where is this Blue Bottle Inn?” Verlyn said.
“On Chambers Street. I can show you, sir, if you would like me to.”
“That’ll do, Bonnie. You got chores to do and all,” the young man said.
Verlyn nodded. “Yes, I wouldn’t want you to waste time on me. I’m sure I can find the place if I need to. Thank you.”
Bonnie blushed up to the roots of her hair and would have stayed at Verlyn’s side if Joe hadn’t pulled her up by the arm. “We’d best be getting home.”
She went reluctantly and called over her shoulder, “Big Meg at the Blue Bottle.”
Norwich chuckled. “You have an admirer, brother.”
Verlyn grinned and then, looking back at the corpse, his face went white. “Wait, I know him. It’s James Nettles.” He stood up abruptly and turned away. “Oh my God.”
Althea stood up as well. “How do you know?” she said in a low voice so that the scruffy pair still left couldn’t hear her.
Verlyn ran a hand over his face. “The signet ring. He used it to sign his letters. I have to get word to London.”
Norwich turned back towards the two stragglers. “Move along now. No more to see here.”
They seemed reluctant to leave – likely thinking that there might yet be an opportunity to plunder the body or to wheedle some money out of two fine gentlemen – but Norwich’s stern gaze and commanding presence eventually made them think better of that. They wandered back up the beach.
When they were out of earshot, Norwich said, “Was Nettles employed by the government?”
Verlyn nodded. “He was one of the men who acted the part of the Richmond Thief.”
Althea said, “I think we should come to an agreement as to what we are to tell our party. My thought would be to say it appears that this unfortunate man must have imbibed too heavily and managed to fall off the pier and drown himself. I doubt those two gentlemen just leaving us will be in a position to contradict us with our own party.”
Norwood nodded. “The magistrate should be told. However, I doubt he will have the wherewithal to solve a crime involving his majesty’s agents.”
“I shall ask the magistrate to hold the body until James’ family can claim it,” Verlyn said.
They fell silent for several minutes, each lost in his or her own personal thoughts. Then Althea looked up and spied a well-dressed man coming towards them. He was accompanied by several men in naval uniforms, with the disreputable Bill trotting behind. “I think that this must be what we are waiting for,” Althea said.
Norwich turned to Verlyn. “Why don’t you take Lady Trent back to our party? It is better that you not be seen to be involved. I can take care of this.”
Verlyn clapped his hand on Norwich’s shoulder. “You are the best brother.” Then he extended his arm. “Come, Lady Trent.”
She took his arm and turned back towards the town. As she did, something tickled the back of her memory. The half-moon of the harbor with the streets winding their way up through the hills reminded her of something. But what was it? It took the entire trip across the sand until she had it. “Lord George! The piece of paper we found on the baron. It is a map – a map of Torquay.”
“Torquay?”
“Yes. The lines represent the shoreline of the harbor and the roads leading away from the harbor.”
He disengaged her arm and pulled out his watch. Extracting the paper carefully so that it wouldn’t blow way, he held it up.
“See, there is the shore and those are the roads. But here, where that line ends, there appears to be a small x. I hadn’t noticed that before. Perhaps something is hidden at that point?”
“It could be!” He tucked the paper back in the watch. His whole demeanor had shifted and his eyes shown bright, like a child given a new toy. “Althea, you are a wonder!” He impulsively grabbed her hand and kissed it. “I shall tell Sir Neville that I have been called back to London and then come here to investigate.” He took another two steps. “But we still do not know what Al Andalus means, unless you have a theory?”
“I am afraid not at the moment.”
They continued on until they met the rest of the group at the Pelican Inn. The Pelican was a well-kept inn with several private rooms on the ground floor. Sir Neville had reserved the largest for the Ranleigh party, and the long table was full to bursting with cold meats, breads, pickles, jellies, aspics and every good thing for a substantial luncheon.
There was much furor and conversation about the body on the beach as soon as they entered the room. The ladies had much to say on the subject of their shock and disgust. Mr. Smithson also seemed as hysterical as the women in decrying the horror of the moment. “I dare swear I have never seen such a thing. It made me feel quite faint. Fortunately, Mrs. Gregson was swift in the production of her smelling salts. If she hadn’t been forward-thinking in bringing them in her reticule, I don’t know where we might have been,” he said to Althea, when she was finally able to take her seat.
“I agree that it is most distressing, but His Grace has taken it upon himself to wait with the poor unfortunate man until the magistrate can assume control of the situation. Living on the edge of the ocean as he does, the magistrate must have developed a certain skill in handling the drowned, particularly now that the Navy has made such use of the harbor. Unfortunately, our naval vessels are not immune to accidents.”
“So true, Lady Trent. It is, I’m sure, a sad reality for the magistrate. I certainly do not envy him.” Mr. Smithson shuddered dramatically. And then, seeming to recover his composure, he said, “But is it certain that this death was an accidental drowning?”
“A drowning, yes,” she said with firmness, “but I cannot speculate as to its accidental nature or not. I suppose someone could have pushed the man overboard, but I think it highly unlikely.”
“So he was a sailor then?”
“Oh no. I’m sorry if I gave that impression. He was a civilian by his clothes. I am just assuming that with an accidental drowning, one would most likely fall off a boat.” Althea felt the time had come for evasive measures. “I wish I knew more, but it is still so very distressing, Mr. Smithson.”
“So sorry, Lady Trent. I’m afraid that my curiosity is morbid, but it is all so very terrible. My nerves have suffered a severe shock, I have no hesitation in telling you. I don’t know how you can take things as calmly as you always seem to do. It is as if corpses are second nature to you.”
Althea smiled self-consciously. “Well, I suppose they are. I assisted my husband with his research into Dermestes trentatus, a peculiar beetle that feeds on decaying flesh, and my father was a renowned physician. Death is second nature in those circumstances.”
“I had heard some gossip about a scientific paper of some sort. A Trent Method, I believe? Was that your husband’s work?”
Althea swallowed hard. It still rankled that she had to use her dead husband’s name in order to have her own work published. “Yes. It is a method to determine how long a body has been buried by examining the types and development of the insects found on the corpse. I have been told that it represents quite a breakthrough for criminal detection.”
“Oh, well that is just too bad, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“That this body was found at sea. Unless you know of some method there?”
“No, unfortunately not.”
Mr. Smithson smiled and shook his head. “If you had, that would be quite the thing. Can you imagine the poor magistrate with all of his experience being told his business by a lady of refinement? It would be so terribly droll.”
Althea wasn’t sure whether to be offended or pleased with that statement, and so she gave him a thin smile in return.
Norwich returned within the hour, and after a substantial repast, the party decided to avoid the shoreline for a walk in the streets of Torquay. They were just about to depart when Lady Batterslea, who had been idly staring out a window, suddenly exclaimed, “I dare swear it is Lord Tunwell! I wonder what he is doing here?”
“I’m sure you are mistaken, my dear,” Lord Batterslea said dismissively. “The man’s at Tunwell Court dealing with his uncle’s affairs.”
“I think I should know the new baron after dining with him as we have. I tell you, it is him. Come see, if you don’t believe me.”
Lord Batterslea made his way to the window. “Where?”
“Over there. Down the street.”
“It is merely a fair-haired man with a beaver hat. I don’t know how you can say it was him.”
“Well, now that his back is to us, he could be confused with anyone, but he turned and looked at me a minute ago.”
Lord Batterslea chuckled. “Of course he did, my dear. Come, we are all waiting on you.”
The streets of Torquay were narrow and winding and the party moved more slowly than Althea, who was used to long brisk walks, normally tolerated. She had thought to maneuver herself next to Norwich in order to have further conversation with him about the body on the beach and her discovery regarding the scrap of paper, but he seemed to be in a taciturn mood and eluded her attempts to reach him. She finally gave up and dedicated herself to listen with half an ear to Mrs. Gregson, who was engaged in a long and rather tedious story about a friend of hers who had died some years before. The point of the tale seemed to be that one should live one’s life in an upright manner and keep honest company.
It was when the party turned and headed back towards the ocean and the street where the carriages had been drawn up, that Althea finally gave up even the pretense of listening to Mrs. Gregson. Instead, she studied the water. The waves were so beautiful as the sunlight touched the tips of their regular peaks. The wind had died down enough that the walk presented no difficulties of dress. Indeed, the day was as fine as any day Althea had yet experienced. If Althea had had any choice in the matter, she might like to live by the ocean and be a daily witness to the wonders of the marine world. She wondered idly if the duke had any coastal properties and then chided herself for being silly.
