Fatal Masquerade Read online

  Or because she was also involved in something dark?

  The charm used as payment to Mrs Zeilovsky, found at the scene of Cobb’s murder.

  Alkmene stared ahead. Slowly things were falling into place in her mind.

  A psychiatrist was a person who had access to all kinds of sensitive information. He knew about people’s weaknesses, fears, compulsions. If they talked to him about their pasts and their families, he also got to know about more than just their problems. He could form a whole picture of…

  The highest levels of society in which his clients moved.

  Cobb in the position of servant, overhearing things, prying into things, making his lists in code to pass on.

  House guests coming for a stay. Coming naturally into contact with the staff.

  Cobb being stabbed with a steak knife taken from dinner.

  After the conversation about the Steeplechase case. And Mr Hargrove’s reference to her, Alkmene, having a knack for the criminal.

  Before that, Cobb winking at her over the champagne glasses he had offered her. A lecherous wink, she had assumed. Coming from a self-assured man who believed lonely women of noble birth were falling over each other to have an affair with him. A night of adventure away from their normal, dull lives.

  But what if his wink had been interpreted by someone present in a very different way?

  As a signal.

  Yes.

  Someone had taken it to be a signal between accomplices. Someone had added two and two and decided Cobb had to die.

  The note to Keegan had never had anything to do with it.

  And Hargrove picking up the charm to protect his wife had merely deluded her, led her astray. The charm had been dropped by somebody other than the rightful owner, probably on purpose, to plant a false trail. Once you saw the connection between all events, it was so clear, so obvious.

  There was only one little problem.

  As usual.

  How to prove it?

  Alkmene smiled at Mrs Hargrove. ‘You have done the right thing in telling us everything. You may still need Mr Keegan to settle things with your brother. I think it would be wise if you shared the information with your husband, too. It’s not your fault your brother is what he is. And as long as he has a hold on you, he can destroy your life, your future with the baby. That should come first now.’

  Mrs Hargrove nodded, her face pale. ‘I was just so concerned that… I made mistakes. I should never have asked Mrs Zeilovsky to try some strange treatment on Denise. I’ve treated her like a little child who has to be good. I should have talked to her, but she doesn’t… connect with me. She sees me as competition, as having taken her father’s love away from her. I was just worried this comte would be bad for her. The rumours about him and my fear he was connected with this blackmail racket…’

  ‘The comte is a very dangerous character,’ Jake said, ‘but women don’t seem to see that. We’ll have to think of a way to convince Denise of the trouble she would be in if she became this man’s wife. As soon as she’s back from her ride, Alkmene will speak with her.’

  Alkmene would normally have thanked him with a sour smile for this great assignment that she didn’t feel up to at all, but right now she was in no mood for lightness. She had a killer to unmask.

  They left Mrs Hargrove to take her rest. Outside the room Alkmene glanced around and, when she was certain no one was near, said, ‘I know who killed Cobb and why it was done.’

  Jake held her gaze. ‘Considering the find of the charm at the scene of the crime, and now knowing who it was passed off to...’

  Alkmene sighed. ‘It’s not as simple as that. We have to prove the motive for killing Cobb. I think I understand what it was. If I’m right, it involved me.’

  ‘You?’ Jake echoed. He sounded dumbfounded.

  ‘Yes, me.’ Alkmene stared ahead, deep in thought. ‘That might be our way in. But it will be dangerous.’

  Jake made a scoffing sound. ‘I can’t remember a case where it wasn’t. Just tell me what you want me to do.’

  Alkmene tapped her fingers against each other. ‘I have to think this through carefully. This killer is very clever and won’t just believe any story. I have to make sure it’s totally convincing.’

  She glanced at Jake. ‘We’d better get to work.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alkmene stood in the boathouse. The water lapped quietly at the wooden supports below her. The idea of water nearby was unnerving, as the killer might push her in, jump after her and hold her under. But she suspected they would first try more subtle means.

  She made sure her back was turned to the wooden wall so she couldn’t be attacked from behind. As it was day now, a bright sunny day, there was light inside the boathouse. Only the corners were shadowy, but she had checked them after coming in. Everything seemed to be all right.

  Yet nothing was all right when a killer was coming to meet you here, a killer you had yourself provoked in hopes a fatal error would be made.

  Fatal for the killer, of course.

  Steadying her breathing, Alkmene glanced at the boat that was moored, the oilcloth in it covering up a bulk. Her lifeline, her only hope of getting out of this unharmed.

  If only the killer didn’t become suspicious of it…

  The door opened and Mrs Zeilovsky walked in. She halted inside the door and looked at Alkmene. ‘I suspected you wrote the note slipped under my door. So, you know the code.’

  Alkmene shrugged. ‘Cobb gave it to me.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky narrowed her eyes. ‘That can’t be. You’ve never been alone with Cobb.’

  ‘Oh yes, I have been.’ Alkmene leaned back with a smug smile. ‘When I arrived, he was upstairs waiting for me. He had been waiting in my room before my arrival, but that silly little maid, Megan, came up with my bags to unpack. Cobb had to leave. Of course he had to harass the maid first. Cobb was stupid like that.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky scoffed. ‘You say so, but you yourself have enjoyed his attentions. I can recognize intimacy between people when I see it. The way he winked at you before dinner… Disgusting.’

  Alkmene smiled, even though the idea of an affair with a smug player like Cobb actually was quite disgusting. ‘Let’s not play games. You didn’t take that for an amorous wink. You are indeed able to read people’s behaviour. You know what transpired between Cobb and me was purely business.’

  ‘Why would Cobb have let you in on his plans?’ Mrs Zeilovsky sounded spiteful. ‘You were just another victim.’

  ‘So, you even know I received a letter. Months ago, in London. Are all members so well informed of the organization’s every move?’

  ‘I am...’ Mrs Zeilovsky stopped herself. ‘I see what you are doing, Lady Alkmene. Trying to get me to prove myself to you, betray how high-ranking I am. But you are going to prove yourself to me first.’

  She produced a box with Turkish delight and put it on the table. ‘You know what this does. Take two or three. I will ask you questions and see if you tell me the truth.’

  ‘What drug is it?’ Alkmene asked, staying well away from the sweets.

  Mrs Zeilovsky smiled. ‘Have you ever heard of truth serum? It is still in its experimental phase. In fact, we are not quite sure yet what it does to the subject’s brain. We suppose it releases the catch that is normally on all people’s emotions. You might think something of a person, but you won’t tell him to his face. You stay polite. But those hidden emotions can be released. The truth serum does that. We can use it to learn more about our subjects’ deepest feelings.’

  ‘Their weaknesses, you mean, to use against them. Under a pretext of helping people, you’re using them to find proof of indiscretions you can use. Perhaps you don’t even believe in all these new psychology theories yourself. You only married Zeilovsky to have access to people’s darkest secrets. They do tell those to him, even without a truth serum. People trust in the authority of someone who claims to have superior knowledge.’

  Mrs Zeilovsk
y shrugged. ‘I never claimed to love Theobald. Or he me. Love is just a feeling, remember, an inferior thing. It is the mind that controls it all.’

  Her voice rose in intensity. ‘But he was wrong, you know. There are feelings. They are irrational and they control people. Hate, jealousy, greed, fear. They compel perfectly sane people to do crazy things.’

  She held Alkmene’s gaze. ‘You have a need for adventure. You flirt with danger, even with death, merely for the thrill of it.’

  Alkmene did not deny it. ‘I bet you enjoy watching your doctor experiment on his poor patients. You enjoy their helplessness, their...’

  ‘That isn’t true. I despise what he did in his clinic in Austria. He treated criminals, you know, made them better by all kinds of exposure to extreme conditions. Snow, ice, starvation.’

  Alkmene watched the emotion on her face. ‘Why would you care?’

  ‘He killed my father.’ Mrs Zeilovsky spoke quietly, as if stating the obvious. ‘I wanted to kill him to get even. But this seemed like a better idea.’

  Alkmene was stunned. ‘You married your father’s killer? For revenge?’

  Mrs Zeilovsky smiled. ‘I’m using all of his pompous prattle to get close to people. I gain their trust and learn their secrets.’

  Alkmene wanted to say it was hard to imagine anybody would trust her, but Mrs Hargrove had paid her with the golden charm for therapy to make Denise forget her feelings for the comte. It did seem to work.

  Mrs Zeilovsky said, ‘You do the same thing, Lady Alkmene. You use Jake Dubois to get information on people. We informed you he was a former convict and you didn’t care. In fact, I deduce you enjoyed the increased risk of your association with him. Or should I say, the increased value when he turned out to have contacts in the criminal world?’

  She began to pace, continuing in a thoughtful tone, ‘When Mr Hargrove said you had a knack for the criminal, I thought he meant to turn criminals in to the law. But I had seen Cobb’s wink at you. I understood what you truly are. One of us.’

  Alkmene laughed softly. ‘It may be true that I’m interested in certain aspects of the criminal life, especially the financial independence I cannot have with my father, or through marriage, but that doesn’t mean I condone violence. You killed, and that wasn’t necessary.’

  ‘Not necessary? Cobb was about to sell out. To you, to anyone. He wanted money fast. He had created trouble for himself in this household, by his womanizing. He was ideally placed here and, within so short a time, he managed to ruin it all.’ Her voice was tight with anger at the servant’s idiocy.

  Alkmene made a gesture. ‘Why care about Cobb’s behaviour? Mrs Carruthers was here as well, always protecting him, making sure he didn’t lose his employment.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky laughed. ‘Mrs Carruthers was nothing but a weak laudanum addict.’

  ‘Laudanum that you provided to Cobb.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky’s expression froze. ‘Cobb was the weak link. He had to be eliminated before he could do damage to all of us. You have to see that.’

  Alkmene didn’t confirm or deny it. She said curtly, ‘And Mrs Carruthers? If she’s addicted, she will be desperate to get the drops.’

  ‘I have taken care of that already.’

  Alkmene’s insides turned cold. She saw the desperate woman begging them for laudanum. What if Mrs Carruthers had turned to Mrs Zeilovsky with her tale of her worn back and nightmares to get laudanum, and Mrs Zeilovsky had given her some, highly concentrated, of course, so that the poor woman took an overdose and died?

  Alkmene wanted to get away as soon as possible to warn the unfortunate housekeeper, but saw no way to do it without giving away her scheme. Mrs Zeilovsky had to be dealt with.

  She believed for a moment that she heard a soft splashing, but couldn’t be sure what it was. Mrs Zeilovsky was still pacing, her shoes thudding on the wooden boards. ‘Cobb had to be eliminated, and the ball was the perfect opportunity for it.’

  Alkmene nodded, trying to move things along. ‘He had to serve away from the house, his master had decided Megan was to wait on guests here, she hated Cobb, it would be plausible she had defended herself against him. Et cetera, et cetera.’ Alkmene made an impatient hand gesture. ‘You expected the police to latch on to the theory of Megan as the killer. Mrs Carruthers ensured the police would look that way. She never liked Megan and was desperate for the police not to look further at what Cobb had been doing here, so that her part in it wouldn’t come to light. I know all of that.’

  ‘Then why do we even discuss this?’ Mrs Zeilovsky looked at Alkmene. ‘You wrote to me in code. You understand the reasons why Cobb had to die that particular night. What is there left to say?’

  Alkmene held out her hand. On the palm the dog charm glittered. ‘You made one little mistake. You dropped this at the scene of the crime.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky didn’t blink. ‘It is not mine, but Mrs Hargrove’s. I supposed the police had it and would ask questions. But they are satisfied with holding Megan.’

  ‘I know Mrs Hargrove gave it to you, in exchange for your “treatment” of Denise.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky smiled. ‘I don’t think Mrs Hargrove would be willing to testify to that in court. And you would never want to hurt your friend with an ugly court case, ruining her family name and even suggesting to the world she is mentally unstable. It would leave her without prospects. Her father wants her to marry well.’

  ‘I know.’ Alkmene returned the woman’s cold gaze with a matching stare. ‘You assume I like Denise and wish her well. But, like you, I never do anything without asking myself what’s in it for me. I befriended Denise because I was certain that, some day, she would prove valuable to me. And that day has come.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky’s unusual eyes flickered, but she said nothing. She waited for a further explanation.

  Alkmene continued. ‘I will produce this charm to Mr Hargrove. He will certainly not want a trial in which his name is mentioned. His wife, his daughter, his intimate household affairs. I’ll ask him how much he wants to pay to keep this a secret. I bet it will be quite a handsome sum. Now, I could keep it all for myself. But I’m willing to share. If you put me in contact with the mastermind.’

  ‘Why would I?’ Mrs Zeilovsky replied. Her eyes flashed with hostility now.

  Alkmene shrugged. ‘Like you, I’m ambitious. And I’m unattached. I can go places. I can find out about things. I can deliver where you would fail.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky’s eyes now raged, but Alkmene pushed on, ‘I want the top position in the blackmail ring. Right under the leader. And you are going to get it for me.’

  ‘Why would I?’ Mrs Zeilovsky’s voice was a mere whisper, anger suffocating her.

  Alkmene held her gaze. ‘Because I’ll tell your husband about your father and the reasons why you married him. He’ll divorce you, and you’ll be left with nothing.’

  Mrs Zeilovsky wet her lips. ‘My husband won’t divorce me.’ But her tone was not completely assured.

  Alkmene smiled. ‘Come, come, you know him better than I do. He is a vain man. He thinks you married him because you admire him. If he knew you loathed him and only married him because of an ulterior motive, his pride would be too hurt for him to keep you. He couldn’t bear to look upon you.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Mrs Zeilovsky jumped at her. Across the table she grabbed at Alkmene, who backed away from her.

  The box with Turkish delight crashed to the floor as Mrs Zeilovsky clambered over the table, pinning Alkmene against the wall.

  ‘You bitch,’ Mrs Zeilovsly raged. ‘I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you. Your airs, your so-called knack for the criminal. But you are in over your head here. At this very moment Mrs Carruthers is lying dead on her bed. She drank the laudanum from the bottle you gave her. Yes. The bottle you gave her. It has a label made out in your name. It’s full of your fingerprints.’

  ‘That can’t be,’ Alkmene said in a small voice. Her thoughts raced to figure out how Mrs Zeilovsky might
have laid hands on a bottle with her fingerprints on it.

  Mrs Zeilovsky hissed, ‘She’s dead, and you will be blamed. You give up your little scheme now. You give me the charm. You leave the estate. You go abroad. I’m sure your French friend can find a place for you somewhere.’

  Alkmene stared into the woman’s frantic light-green eyes. ‘Are you not even going to try and kill me? You’d let me walk away with what I know?’

  ‘In a few days’ time it won’t matter any more what you do or don’t know.’

  Alkmene’s thoughts whirled as if she was being spun around and around. She felt like she had completely lost her grip on the situation. Panic threatened to dim her reasoning.

  Why was Jake not acting? He should have risen from the boat by now, to arrest the woman. She had confessed to the murder of Cobb.

  But there was nothing stirring near the boats.

  Mrs Zeilovsky said with emphasis, ‘The charm, Lady Alkmene.’

  Alkmene lifted up her arm with difficulty to hand it over.

  Mrs Zeilovsky accepted it and smiled. ‘Thank you. That puts me in the perfect position to go and see Mr Hargrove with the tale you just told me. I’m sure he will be eager to save his marriage now that he has already lost his daughter.’

  ‘Lost his daughter?’ Alkmene blinked. ‘What do you mean?’

  Mrs Zeilovsky studied her. ‘You only befriended Denise for gain, correct? Why would you care what happened to her after she galloped away from here this morning?’

  Alkmene felt her knees grow weak. Denise had left, had not come back. She had supposed the girl was just riding around in anger, but Mrs Zeilovsky’s smug smile suggested something else. ‘Did she have an accident?’

  ‘She was very upset, wasn’t she?’ Mrs Zeilovsky spoke low. ‘If you go horse riding like that...’ She clicked her tongue.

  Alkmene struggled to keep a clear head. She was worried about Mrs Carruthers really being dead, Denise not having returned, Jake not doing anything to help her…

  This was like a nightmare where someone is chasing you and your shoes are sucked in the mud and, no matter how you try, you can’t move.