Edward Marston - The Repentant Rake

'We need to report an accident,' he said.

'What sort of accident, sir?' she asked.

'A serious one.'

The maidservant was in a quandary. Ordered to keep everyone at bay, she wanted to know more details. She hesitated for a full minute. Eventually, she opted to obey her instructions. Deciding to send them on their way, she was on the point of closing the door with a token apology when someone came down the staircase behind her. It was a young woman in a pretty green dress that rustled as she moved.

'Did I hear mention of an accident?' she asked.

'Yes, Mrs Cheever,' said Christopher.

She blushed slightly. 'My name is Henley, sir.'

'Lucy Henley was your maiden name, I suspect. I am looking at Lucy Cheever now. Why deny it?' he went on before she could protest. 'There is no shame. We are here with important news of your husband. It was your sister-in-law, Susan, who gave me this address. You can surely trust her. I think that you should let us in, Mrs Cheever.'

Christopher's soft voice and considerate manner persuaded her. Nodding to the servant to let them in, Lucy Cheever led the way into the parlour. It was a small but cosy room with evidence of money and taste in the choice of furnishings. Christopher noted the small crucifix on the wall. The maidservant lingered protectively in the doorway but her mistress dismissed her with a glance. When Christopher had performed introductions, all three of them sat down. Lucy Cheever was a short, slender woman with a face of porcelain beauty. She looked so small, young and innocent that it was difficult to believe that she was actually married. There was a fragility about her that disturbed both men. Neither of them relished the notion of passing on the news about her husband, fearing that she would be unable to cope with it.

'We thought that you might have come forward,' said Jonathan quietly.

'Why?' she asked.

'To report that your husband was missing.'

'But I was not aware that Gabriel was missing, Mr Bale. I've been away for almost a week. I only returned to the house today.'

'Should your husband have been here?'

'Yes,' she said, 'but I assumed he had gone out somewhere.'

'Where was your servant?'

'Anna travelled with me.'

'So you did not realise that your husband had gone astray?'

'No, Mr Bale. I fully expect him to come back some time today.'

Jonathan exchanged a glance with Christopher then let him take over.

'I have some sad news, I fear,' said the latter. 'Your husband will not be returning to his home. Gabriel Cheever was found dead some nights ago.'

'Dead?' Lucy's face contorted with pain and her fists tightened. 'Gabriel is dead?'

'Mr Bale was there when the body was found.'

'Where?'

'The full details may distress you.'

'You spoke earlier of an accident.'

'It was no accident, Mrs Cheever,' he said gently.

Lucy recoiled as if from a blow to the face and Christopher feared that she might topple over, but she made a supreme effort to control herself. Holding back tears, she turned to Jonathan and spoke in a clear voice.

'Tell me what happened, Mr Bale.'

'It will not make pleasant listening,' he warned.

'I want to know,' she insisted.

'Mrs Cheever-'

'I'm his wife,' she said interrupting him. 'If Gabriel has been killed, I want to know how. Tell me, Mr Bale. I'm not as frail as I may look, I promise you.'

Jonathan swallowed hard then launched into his tale. Christopher was impressed with how tactful he was, giving a clear account of the discovery of Cheever's body without dwelling overmuch on how he was murdered. The constable obviously had long experience of breaking dreadful news to bereaved families. There was a sensitivity about him that Christopher had never noticed before. Lucy Cheever heard it all without a flicker, though her face was drawn and her hands remained bunched in her lap. When the account was over, she looked across at the crucifix before closing her eyes in a prayer. Christopher was struck by her composure. For a woman who looked so delicate, Lucy Cheever had the most remarkable strength of will. When she opened her eyes again, they could see the grief swirling in them.

'Would you like us to leave?' asked Christopher softly.

'No, Mr Redmayne.'

'Shall I call your servant?'

'I can do that for myself when I feel the need.'

'You're very brave, Mrs Cheever.'

'I want to know all that you can tell me,' she murmured.

'There is not much more to tell,' said Jonathan. 'A search is under way for the man responsible but we have so far unearthed no suspects.'

'Where is my husband's body?'

'Being held at the morgue until it can be reclaimed by his family.'

'I am Gabriel's family,' she said with sudden anger. 'Everyone else turned their back on him. Gabriel was a complete outcast.'

'Not to his younger sister,' Christopher reminded her.

She calmed instantly. 'No, that's true. Susan stood by him.'

'She took grave risks for his sake.'

'I know, Mr Redmayne, and I'm deeply grateful to her. I only hope that I will one day have the opportunity of thanking her in person.' She lifted her head and thrust out her chin. 'I should be consulted about the burial of my husband.'

'You have a legal and a moral right,' agreed Christopher. 'But, apart from Susan Cheever, the family are not even aware of your existence.'

'I know.'

'Your marriage was kept secret from them.'

'And from my own family,' she confessed, biting her lip. 'That is why I retained my maiden name. We have only been in Knightrider Street a short while. The few neighbours we have met think of us as Mr and Mrs Henley.'

'That explains why nobody in the street had heard of you,' observed Jonathan.

'Why the need for such deception?' asked Christopher.

She lowered her gaze. 'That's a private matter.'

'Your husband's family will have to be told the truth.'

'I accept that.'

'You are bound to meet them at the funeral.'

'Yes,' she sighed, looking up. 'But nothing would keep me away.'

The effort of holding in her grief was telling on Lucy Cheever. Her body was tense, her cheeks hollow, her eyes whirlpools of anguish. Wanting to ask her so many questions, Christopher felt that it was not the moment to do so.

'Perhaps we should leave now, Mrs Cheever,' he volunteered.

'Not yet,' she said.

'We have no wish to intrude.'

'I am still bearing up,' she said brushing a first tear from her cheek. 'And while I still can, I would like to help if it is at all possible.'

'It is,' he said. 'You knew your husband better than anyone.'

'I did Mr Redmayne. I knew about his vices as well as his virtues. But I loved him nonetheless. Gabriel was everything to me. No woman could have had a kinder or more tender husband.'

'Did he ever talk about his past?'

'Nothing was hidden from me, Mr Redmayne. He was very honest.'

'Did he mention the names of any enemies?'

'Not that I can recall.'

'So you know of nobody who might have wanted to kill him?'

'Gabriel talked of wild threats made against him by people who lost heavily at cards but they were words spoken in the heat of the moment. He took no notice of them.'

'And he forsook that life completely?'

'Yes,' she said firmly. 'That was a condition of our marriage.'

Lucy Cheever had none of the sophisticated charms of Celia Hemmings, still less anything of her social poise and worldliness. Yet she had qualities that the other could never possess. Lucy had an integrity that shone out of her and a loveliness that was all the more fetching because she was so unaware of it. She could no more be Gabriel Cheever's mistress than Celia Hemmings could be his wife. The two women represented different sides of his character. Christopher understood the choice he had finally made.