Стивен Бут - Drowned Lives

Besides, once I’d changed my perspective, everything seemed to fit in the picture too well. It had been Laura who sought me out at Fradley after the funeral, not the other way round. I’d been too intoxicated by the wine and her presence to notice, and she’d taken advantage of that. She’d made it seem as though it was my idea to ask for her help with the research for the book, but surely she’d been the one to plant the suggestion in my mind? Of course she had. Her show of reluctance wouldn’t have lasted long if I hadn’t taken the bait first time, like a besotted fool.

And once she had me hooked, I was truly hooked. I’d been a sitting duck for a seduction. She must have seen me as a pathetic, lonely man with no power of resistance. Which, to my shame, was exactly what I’d been. When I thought of all the things I’d told her on the journey to Cheshire, and everything that had happened between us that night at her hotel, the rage made me smash my fist into the table with frightening violence.

Frank had retreated to his bedroom, keeping out of the way of my bad temper once I’d snapped at him a couple of times in the kitchen as I towelled my drenched face and hair. Boswell had long since disappeared from the house when he sensed my mood. Even the fish in the tank seemed to gape at me in astonishment and derision.

It was as if they all knew what a fool I’d been. I’d passed on to Laura Jenner all the information I’d gathered with Rachel’s help, and I’d betrayed Rachel’s trust at the same time. As a result, Laura knew about everything — about Godfrey Wheeldon, and Frank, about everything.

I recalled that Laura had known only too well that I’d be away from Maybank on the night it was broken into. She knew because she made sure I was with her at the George. The realisation that she must have planned that night with an accomplice was a torment of outrage and humiliation. She’d planned it with Simon Monks — because I was sure it could only be him. I had no idea what the link was between them. I only knew in my guts that he was the one who’d wielded the windlass against my skull and torched Kestrel .

It seemed horribly plausible that Monks had been deceiving Caroline in the same way that Laura had deceived me. But who were they? And what was their purpose? If they weren’t Parkers, why were they trying to destroy the last remnants of the Buckley family?

Pipehill, Lichfield, Staffordshire. Saturday 25th Jan. 1800.

To Reuben Wheeldon Esq., Warner Street, Ellesmere, Cheshire.

My dear friend,

It is a just and feeling remark of Doctor Johnson’s that we never do anything consciously for the last time without sadness of heart. The secret sense of a Farewell Act I carry along with me into every word or deed of this Day.

My friend, I’ll fight no more; I’ve had enough. I hope I have done no more harm than any other man, but the world will do quite as well without me. I do not want to rip up old grievances and live my life twice over. As the tree falls, so let it lie. We shut up the book and close the Account once and for all.

I look not for others to profit by my example, nor do I seek to give moral guidance to others. Yet my behaviour must give no reason to be ashamed, for the World is all too prone to censure and ridicule. I confess I have no hope for the outcome, since Prejudice against me runs so high. I am torn by the utmost anxiety at what I must do, and my mind is in turmoil of a thousand imaginings.

I will not detain you for a minute more. To speak plainly, I have business with Mr P. that cannot be delayed. I have engaged to meet with him this very night, that we might resolve our differences for once and for all. I know that I go into Danger. If the worst befalls me, Sarah will return to her Father’s house, where I trust little Edward will be well cared for. To you, my dear friend, I entrust the documents of which we have spoken. You will understand that they are not safe in my Possession. If I do not return, you must do with them as you see fit.

They say that Mr P. has engaged a pair of bravos, for what purpose they do not know. Let him then send his bravos.

Your obedient servant and friend

The last thing I wanted in my current state of mind was Rachel asking awkward questions and interrogating me about Laura. She’d demonstrated several times that she could see straight through me. The only thing to do was get out of the house before she arrived home, and there was only one place where I could do my thinking.

It was only a few minutes’ walk to the Stowe Arms, and soon I was cradling a pint of Marston’s in my favourite corner, feeling the warmth and reassurance of the alcohol creeping through me. A few of the familiar regulars were in, and it seemed likely that somebody would soon buy a round, a game of darts would be started and the evening would take its predictable course.

Before long, though, my thoughts began to drift back to that afternoon I sat in the corner of another pub, the Earl of Lichfield, and did absolutely nothing until it was too late, as my Great-Uncle Samuel walked away to his death. The thought was uncomfortable, and it turned the taste of the beer sour in my mouth. I’d seen where being a coward and failing to act had led me. The time for doing nothing was past. I had to redeem myself in Samuel’s eyes, to reclaim my family name.

It was strange that a name could have such power. How could a single word be so important that individuals would sacrifice their lives to it, as Samuel had sacrificed his? And as I had been in danger of sacrificing mine. It was a mysterious power that had lain dormant in me until these past few weeks. But I was no longer in any doubt about its crushing potency.

I ignored the cajoling of my drinking companions to join their circle and headed to a payphone in the passage behind the bar. Laura’s number was on a slip of paper in my wallet. But all I got was the male friend, who told me that Laura wasn’t at home. When pushed, he said she might already be in Lichfield again. So I dialled the George Hotel, and was put straight through to her.

‘Laura, it’s Chris.’

‘Hi.’

I had to steel myself at the sound of her voice. This was no moment to weaken. I was going to stay cool and decisive. ‘I need to talk to you. Tonight.’

‘Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’

‘No, it can’t. A lot has happened, Laura. I’ve found out things that have changed my mind on the whole business.’

She hesitated. ‘I see. You sound as though you’re confused, and maybe a bit angry too.’

‘Oh yes, a bit,’ I said sarcastically.

‘All right, I can tell. And you probably blame me for some of it.’

‘No, not some of it — all of it. You’ve deceived me all along.’

‘No, Chris. It’s true that I haven’t been honest with you. But if you think I’m the one you need to blame for everything, you’re very wrong.’

‘You expect me to believe that?’

Laura sighed. ‘I can explain.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m going to insist on you doing. For a start, you can explain why you and the people you’re involved with killed Samuel Longden, and why you tried to kill me.’

‘It’s not like you think,’ she protested. ‘None of it is.’

‘Oh yes? Someone tried to break my skull and turn me into roast meat. I take it that was a member of your family? A Parker? If not, I’m sure you could take a very good guess at who it was. That would have been a really neat ending, wouldn’t it? The last of the Buckleys finished off.’

I heard her sigh. ‘I’m not a Parker.’

‘I don’t know why I should believe you.’

‘What’s been done to you was dreadful, Chris, and I’m as guilty as anybody for deceiving you. But I want to put a stop to it now. Things are very close to an end.’