‘You say that Mr Villemot is not guilty?’
‘He swears it, Sam, and I believe him.’
‘Then why was he arrested?’
‘It seems that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘What was he doing there?’ asked Littlejohn.
‘Monsieur Villemot claims that it was pure accident that he was in the vicinity of Sir Martin’s residence. Two witnesses saw him at the rear of the house,’ said Christopher, ‘and that was where the killer gained access to the garden. Apparently, the gate was unlocked.’
‘Was that usual, sir?’
‘It was very unusual, Sam. Like any wealthy man, Sir Martin Culthorpe was careful to protect his property. A high wall encloses the garden and that gate is invariably locked.’
‘Yet you still think that Mr Villemot is innocent?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘I wish I had your confidence,’ said Littlejohn, doubtfully, ‘but I don’t like the sound of what I’ve heard. A warrant would not be issued unless there was other evidence that we don’t yet know about. I admire your loyalty to Mr Villemot but I choose to keep an open mind.’
‘That’s fair enough, Sam.’
‘I did warn you something might go awry with this contract.’
‘Nobody could have foreseen that our client would be accused of murder,’ said Christopher. ‘I know that you look askance at the French but even you must concede that they are not, by nature, inclined to stab people to death.’
‘I never suggested that they were, sir.’
‘But you were worried.’
‘Foreign clients always worry me,’ confessed the builder.
‘This one may give you a pleasant surprise. When he’s released from prison, work can begin at once on the house.’
Littlejohn was philosophical. ‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ he said with quiet resignation. ‘Thank you, Mr Redmayne — it was good of you to come. I’d better go and pass on the sad news to the men.’
‘Tell them not to lose hope.’
‘I’ll tell them to prepare for the worst. It’s more honest.’
Putting his hat on again, the builder moved away. Christopher was about to mount his horse when he saw a rider approaching. He did not at first recognise the diminutive figure. It was only when the man pulled his mount to a halt that Christopher realised that it was Emile, the French valet.
‘I am glad to find you, M’sieur,’ said Emile, anxiously. ‘I go to your house. The old man, he say you come here.’
‘That would be Jacob, my servant.’
‘I do not know who else to tell.’
‘Tell what?’
‘Is very bad.’
‘You’re not making much sense, Emile,’ said Christopher. ‘I can see that you’re upset. Why not try to calm down before you speak? If there’s a problem, I’ll be glad to help.’ Emile nodded gratefully. ‘Now, let’s go through it very slowly, shall we? What is so very bad?’
‘I am afraid to tell him.’
‘Who — Monsieur Villemot?’
‘Oui, m’sieur. C’est terrible.’
‘Why?’
‘The portrait he paint…’
‘The one of Lady Culthorpe?’
‘Yes,’ said Emile in despair. ‘It was stolen.’
* * *
Henry Redmayne was not accustomed to being up so early in the morning and he was decidedly liverish. Still in his garish dressing gown, a garment that swept the floor as he moved, he was unshaven and without his wig. He regarded his visitor through a bleary eye.
‘Death and hell and furies!’ he shouted. ‘What the devil has brought you here at this ungodly hour, Elkannah?’
‘I needed to speak with you.’
‘Could you not delay conversation until a more fitting time of day? This is most inconsiderate. I’m never fully awake until noon.’
‘My business will not brook delay,’ said Elkannah Prout.
‘What does it concern?’
‘Araminta.’
‘Ah!’ The name brought Henry to life. ‘Now she is the one person in the world for whom I would willingly drag myself out of bed at the crack of dawn. I’d go without sleep for a month for Araminta.’
‘I’m glad that she arouses a philanthropic impulse.’
‘There’s nothing I would not do for her, Elkannah.’
‘Then bestow upon her the greatest gift you have to offer.’
‘I’ve already done that,’ said Henry, dreamily. ‘I’ve given her my exclusive and undivided love.’
‘Araminta would prefer your forbearance,’ said Prout. ‘At a time like this, she needs to be left alone to mourn in peace. I want you to join with me and stop your reckless courtship of her.’
Henry was disdainful. ‘That’s a strange entreaty on the lips of the man who first devised the Society to which all four of us were willing signatories,’ he said. ‘I spy your intent here, Elkannah. Because you have no chance of enjoying Araminta’s charms, you want to prevent others from doing so.’
‘I merely want her protected from your unsavoury attentions.’
‘There’s nothing unsavoury about me,’ said Henry, pouting.
‘Sir Martin’s death weighs heavily with me,’ said Prout, head down and hands clasped tight. ‘It brought me to my senses. Like you, I disguised my licentiousness behind the many tokens of love I sent to Araminta. When she was single, such gifts were simply a nuisance to her. Now that she is a widow, they would be a source of torment.’ He grabbed his friend’s arm. ‘Leave her be, Henry!’
‘She needs me.’
‘She needs respect and freedom from this persecution.’
‘Nobody respects Araminta more than I do,’ said Henry, ‘and nobody has persecuted her less.’ He shook his arm to detach Prout’s hand from it. ‘You are being very noble and I applaud you for it, but there are two reasons why I am unable to follow your example.’
Prout was critical. ‘The first is your desire to win that bet.’
‘No, Elkannah. I care nothing for the money. I’ll gladly give it away to the deserving poor, if, that is, I did not myself happen to qualify for membership of that group of needy recipients. The first reason is this — I adore Araminta. To step aside now,’ argued Henry, ‘would be a repudiation of my love and that would be an act of treachery. The second and more pressing reason is one that you can surely guess.’
‘If you do not go after her, others will.’
‘Jocelyn and Sir Willard are even now making their plans.’
‘I’ll speak to each one in turn and urge him to stop.’
‘You’ll get the same answer,’ warned Henry. ‘They’ll not budge an inch from their declared ambition — and neither will I.’ He crossed to the door and opened it. ‘I bid you good day, Elkannah.’
‘Think over what I told you,’ said Prout, crossing to the door.
‘My ears are deaf to such petitions.’
They did, however, pick up the sound of the doorbell. It was rung with such vigour that that everyone in the house heard it. A servant opened the front door and Henry’s brother came into the hall without waiting for an invitation.
‘Christopher!’ he exclaimed. ‘What means this violent entry?’
‘Up at this time?’ said the other in surprise. ‘I thought I’d have to roust you out of your bed.’
‘Why — has something dreadful happened?’
‘It has indeed, Henry.’
‘Our father has died? The Tower of London has burned to the ground? Your beloved Susan Cheever has run off with a one-legged Spanish sailor?’
‘Spare me your drollery.’
‘Only a catastrophe of such proportions could make you try to burst our eardrums with the doorbell.’ He indicated his companion. ‘You know Elkannah, I believe.’
‘We’ve met,’ said Christopher, giving the man a respectful nod.
‘Your servant,’ replied Prout.
‘Forgive my intemperance, sir, but I need to speak to my brother as a matter of urgency. He knows only too well why I must do that.’
‘For the life of me,’ said Henry, ‘I do not. Enlighten me.’