Diamonds of Death

Alkmene frowned as if she had dredged it up from her memory. In reality the newspaper article had shocked her to the core. Winters dead, in exactly the same way as his late wife. The one he was rumoured to have murdered. It could not be a coincidence. ‘Oh, you mean the burglar who was caught standing over the dead body? The piece mentioned as an aside that this man is suspected of having perpetrated various daring robberies over the years, but he had never been caught. Until now.’

‘One of the finest professionals in his trade,’ Jake said.

Alkmene shook her head. ‘How professional can he be when he gets caught red-handed? And with a dead body at his feet too.’ She clicked her tongue.

Then she glanced at Jake. ‘You knew he was also behind the other robberies? I mean, you suspected him earlier? Did you write pieces on the earlier robberies perhaps, and had a hunch he was involved?’

Jake shook his head. ‘I knew he had committed those robberies. They were all trademark crimes.’

‘Trademark?’

Jake gestured with both hands. ‘Bearing certain identifying traits that mark them as his, like a signature underneath a document. But the police are too stupid to see it. In two cases they even arrested a servant as the culprit, because, and I quote, it was impossible to commit the crime from outside the house. But that is right what Mac did.’

Alkmene whistled. ‘Impressive. Never once caught and now like this. Kind of sour. But I guess when you stoop to murder, you do deserve to get caught, no matter how wonderful an artist you are.’

She glanced at him again. ‘Will you cover the trial?’ There was a chance then Anne Winters might come to London for it. She could probably avoid no longer what she had avoided before. But where a meeting with her cousin would have been rather painful in the past, it would now be even more so.

Jake shrugged. ‘Maybe. Right now I am more concerned with proving Mac’s innocence.’

‘Innocence?’ Alkmene’s mind recalled the details she had gleaned from the newspaper coverage. ‘I thought he was caught inside the estate in question? The safe in the room was open and the stones missing, a fortune in diamonds Lord Winters had brought with him from India.’ The infamous gems that had featured in the murder of the wife also.

Jake nodded. ‘Oh, Mac was there all right to steal the stones. But somebody had gotten to them before him and had killed Winters.’

‘You mean…he found Winters dead in the room and his intended loot gone?’

‘That is right.’ Jake looked at her. ‘They caught him on the spot, but not a trace of the stones either on his person or outside. He had not dropped them out of the window or anything. They looked everywhere in the garden.’

Alkmene frowned. ‘So there might be something to his story that he found the dead body after the real thief had left with the stones. Did they look elsewhere in the house for them? Among the servants, the family members, any guests that were staying there?’ Her thoughts raced.

Jake laughed. ‘Of course not. Like the police always do, they jumped to a conclusion. Burglar caught on the scene. Must be the killer. Where the stones are? Who cares? Lord Winters is dead, and this man can swing for it. Nice and neat, tied up with a red ribbon around it, open and shut from day one.’

Alkmene rubbed her nose. ‘But you do not believe that?’

‘Look, I have known Mac for years. He is a thief, yes, a master cat burglar – one of the finest in his art. But he is not a killer.’

Alkmene tilted her head. ‘Not even when he was caught out, cornered, when the victim stood between him and freedom? Would he not kill to ensure he could get away and not end up in prison? Most people would do a lot to avoid prison. And on the spur of the moment he might have grabbed something off the desk and struck out with it.’

Jake was silent.

Alkmene studied his profile. ‘You are not one hundred per cent sure he is innocent, are you?’

Jake sighed. ‘Mac loves his freedom. I doubt he will do well in jail. I cannot be sure he would not strike out, if cornered, just to get away. But if he tells me he did not kill Lord Winters, I believe him. I have to.’ He glanced at Alkmene. ‘Mac saved my life once. I owe him.’

Alkmene held his gaze, waiting for him to tell her more about it. But Jake merely said, ‘Acting on Mac’s behalf I have to start from the assumption that everything he told me is true and ferret out what really happened that night from there.’

Alkmene shook her head. ‘You can’t just mention in passing how this man Mac saved your life and then expect me to accept it and move on.’

Jake sighed. He walked a few moments in silence, then he said, ‘I told you before that back in Paris I looked into a crime ring called the Accountants.’

‘They stole from people who had themselves stolen these things.’

‘Right. Mac did a job for them on the Riviera. It was his favourite haunt: rich people, flaunting their wealth, acting carelessly. He wasn’t quite as professional then as he later became and he made a mistake one night and got arrested. Before he was at the police station, the car had to stop for a group of drunken men. Turned out they were hardly drunken and overpowered the policemen, cuffing them with their own cuffs and leaving them in the street. They took Mac with them and told him he could go free if he did a job for them. He did.’

Alkmene hitched a brow. ‘Original way of enlisting somebody’s services. But what does this have to do with you?’

‘Later when I was undercover with the Accountants, I met Mac. He was suspicious of me, thinking I was not quite what I pretended to be. When he overheard some of the men saying that they distrusted me and wanted to set a trap to get rid of me, he warned me. I was able to escape. I would certainly not have been the first journalist to be found dead in a back alley because of some story he had gotten too close to. Or the last. So I owe Mac my life.’

Jake took a deep breath. ‘What I learned about his character then is that he does steal from people, but he can’t stand violence, especially killing. Warning me meant I would get away with my story and might have exposed them all, including Mac. It was not in his own interest to save me. Still he did. That pushes me now to look beyond the scenario the police have jumped at. It is too easy to just assume Mac killed Lord Winters to get away.’

Alkmene nodded. ‘Makes perfect sense to me. So you have taken up his case? You intend to prove that somebody else did it? That might be quite difficult. I suppose the family is happy enough with the assumption the burglar did it.’

Jake nodded. ‘Yes. For more than one reason.’

Alkmene perked up at his tone. ‘Oh. What can that be?’

Jake halted and faced her squarely. ‘It is more than just a gut feeling, Alkmene. More than a belief in an old friend. I would have taken up his defence just based on my assumption that he would never kill someone, but I have more than that. An actual lead to another person who is probably the killer.’

‘How did you find a lead so fast?’

‘It came from Mac himself. I went to see him in his cell. He told me that he didn’t pick the Winters estate just because he had heard there were diamonds there. He had been alerted to the job, the possibilities. I think one may safely say he had been hired to do it.’

‘What?’ Alkmene leaned over to him. ‘Someone hired your friend to steal those diamonds? And then deliver them to him?’

Jake nodded. ‘And not just anybody. A member of the family.’

Alkmene held her breath.

Jake said, ‘That is why I need you. I have to act fast before the trail turns cold. I need to get inside the Winters household.’

Alkmene held his gaze. She sensed what was going to come. The muscles in her neck pulled tight at the prospect. She had managed to avoid this for a long time. Now all of a sudden she would have to make a new decision about it. A decision that might affect a man’s life. The life of the cat burglar whom Jake called a friend.

Jake said, ‘Mac told me a few things about the Winters family. I was rather surprised to hear that Lord Winters had been married to your mother’s sister.’

‘Half-sister,’ Alkmene corrected quickly. It was a part of her family history she rather preferred not to be reminded of. Her father’s reticence about the subject suggested trouble she’d better stay away from.

She said carefully, ‘They were not on very good terms with each other, if Father is to be believed. Of course it is all a long time ago. My mother died when I was just four years old. After that contact with Mother’s relatives has been rather irregular.’

She didn’t mention that Anne Winters, the only daughter of her late mother’s half-sister, had written to her several times upon the family’s return to England, asking her to come stay with them at the Winters estate. Alkmene had not quite understood why Anne was seeking her out all of a sudden.

Jake asked, ‘And you never felt the need to figure out if the rumours were true? About your mother’s half-sister being murdered by her husband? I can’t imagine that someone with an analytical mind like you would ignore a murder in her own family. You’d have to make sure whether it was just a tale from fanciful people or the truth.’

‘Maybe I ignored it just because it happened in my own family,’ Alkmene said. She hesitated a moment, wondering if it was wise to tell Dubois any more. His jibe about madness in the family had been far from funny. Rumours didn’t just say that Lord Winters had killed his wife, but also that she had acted quite strangely in the months before her death. That she had perhaps suffered from delusions.

And Anne’s last letter, begging her to come out for a few weeks, had sounded rather…strange as well. It had mentioned how the house made her so depressed – like it was sucking life away from her. That sounded quite fanciful.

‘Well,’ Jake said, ‘either way you are related to Lord Winters and since your father is away from home, and you sort of represent him, it would be expected that you’d call on the family to offer your condolences now that Lord Winters has died a violent death. As the estate is quite isolated, you’d have to stay with them for a few days. Else you will just have to invent a headache, a cold, some ache in your back, which will force you to stay for a few days. You have to get into that household and find out what you can about the possible suspects. Especially about George Winters. He hired Mac to steal the stones.’

Alkmene’s eyes went wide at this revelation. George was Anne’s brother, the youngest of two sons. The eldest, Albert, had upon his father’s death inherited the title and the lands.

She had never met any of these people. To call upon them to offer condolences might be appreciated, but a stay would be considered a little unusual. Then again, as Anne had written to her before asking her to come over for a few days, she could justify that she wanted to stay at least until the funeral. That would give her a few days. The opportunity was there for the taking.

But she was torn about it inside. On the one hand she could already feel the excitement of sleuthing again, like she had after poor Silas Norwhich’s supposedly accidental death that had turned out to be murder. The investigation had given a zest to her life that was normally sadly missing.

In this case she might even learn something about the late Lady Winters who had died far away from home. She had been her own mother’s half-sister. And perhaps she owed it to her mother, and the special bond of blood, to look into the matter.

On the other hand that was exactly why she was unsure. These people were family. Distant family perhaps, family she had never met before, people who were no more to her than names without faces, for whom she had little feeling. Still they were family. And now Jake suggested there was a killer among them.

Not to mention the possibility she’d learn her mother’s half-sister had indeed been mad before she died.

A madness that might have been passed on down the line.

To Anne?

Jake said, ‘You need not be afraid that you will be out there alone, in a house with people who could all be involved. I will be with you.’

‘How?’ Alkmene asked.

‘I will…’ Jake had to brace himself apparently to get the next words out. ‘Pose as your driver.’

Alkmene suppressed a burst of laughter. ‘As my driver?’

Jake looked sour. ‘I can hardly pose as your lady’s maid. I’ve already arranged for a car and given notice at the papers that I am following up on a story out of town and will not be around for a few days, maybe even longer.’

She looked at him. ‘Wait a moment. You already gave notice at the papers? Before you had even talked to me? You just knew for sure I’d agree to do this?’

Jake grinned at her. ‘I figured you’d enjoy some country air. After all, last time we went into the countryside, you shared all these idyllic plans with me to go paint by a brook and see excavation sites and… It didn’t quite turn out that way then, but hey, here is another chance, to do better.’

Alkmene made a slapping motion at him. ‘Cut it out, or I am not coming at all.’

Jake leaned over, his dark eyes sparkling. ‘Oh, you are coming, my lady. If it is murder, wild horses could not keep you away.’

Chapter Three

Alkmene glanced down her all black outfit and sighed. ‘I do feel a little like I am preying on their grief, you know, and this outfit only makes it worse. It turns me into a crow or raven, such a horrendous scavenger.’

Jake laughed softly. ‘Ravens are very intelligent creatures. You should feel flattered by the likeness, not insulted.’

Alkmene released a breath. ‘I am just wondering if it is at all acceptable. Faking a sudden interest in family members you have ignored for decades, just because you have a morbid fascination for murder.’

‘Just because you want to save an innocent man from the gallows.’ Jake kept his gaze on the road ahead, his expression suddenly solemn and tight.

Large oaks hung over the road from both sides, their branches meeting in the middle so they rode through a natural arched gateway leading up to Lord Winters’ estate. The thick foliage blocked the sunshine, and it was dim underneath and damp, the atmosphere even invading their car.

Alkmene shivered a moment. ‘I will keep that in mind, to soothe my conscience.’

Jake glanced at her. ‘I would not have asked you to do this, if I had not been fairly certain Mac is innocent and the killer still at large.’

‘Right. At large in the very house where I will be staying. Fabulous.’

‘We can assume that the killer had a clear motive for wanting to dispose of Lord Winters. He will not suddenly come after you.’

‘Or she,’ Alkmene said. ‘Killers can be female, you know.’

‘Then they use poison,’ Jake said decidedly. ‘They do not bash somebody’s head in with a polo trophy.’

Alkmene exhaled. ‘Perhaps it was a crime committed in anger. Nothing premeditated.’

Jake shrugged. ‘What difference does it make? We need to know who did it, to clear my friend’s name.’

Alkmene nodded. ‘After all of it is over and his name is cleared, I do want to meet him and be treated to all the stories of the robberies he did manage to pull off.’

Jake grunted. ‘I doubt he will want to go public.’

‘I thought he had already gone public.’

‘The police have not released his name, just said that a burglar was apprehended on the scene. As long as we can keep his real name out of it…’

‘His real name?’

‘The police have him under an alias.’ Jake glanced at her. ‘You do not think he is using his real name, right? He has a fake passport and everything. If he manages to get out of this scrape in one piece, he can assume another identity and hit the Riviera again, or some other place.’

‘You condone theft?’

‘No, but I can understand the appeal of the particular thing he steals. Special gems, stones with a story attached.’

Jake caught her eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘Don’t you?’

Alkmene exhaled. ‘Yes, I guess so. There was some story about Lord Winters and some special stones Father told me once. It is years ago and… I have no idea why he suddenly mentioned it to me. He never was in touch much with those relatives.’

Jake glanced at her. ‘You said that Lady Winters was your mother’s half-sister?’

‘Yes.’ Alkmene realized there was no evading this for ever, so she decided to get it over with now. ‘My mother was the daughter of an earl. After the earl’s death her mother fell in love with an army captain. Her family had wanted a much better match for her, but she insisted she loved him. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old any more that her parents could force into an alliance, so she did what she wanted and they married. They had three more children, one of whom was the woman who eventually married Lord Winters in India. My mother’s half-sister.’

‘In India?’ Jake asked. ‘Not here?’

Alkmene shook her head. ‘As far as I understand it, the captain was engaged in India for most of his career. No active duty on the battlefield, but being an aide, doing correspondence. The more diplomatic end of things, so to speak. His children were all raised there and married there as well. I think Father mentioned in passing that Lord Winters was quite a good catch.’

No doubt he had only emphasized it to goad her into bringing home a titled man as well. So far the closest she had come to being at ease with a man was with the Honourable Frederick Saltry, Freddie to his friends who were about as manifold as his debts.

Father would hardly think him suitable considering his reputation, and beyond that Alkmene didn’t want to look or think. Being married would mean losing freedom, and one thing she craved was freedom.

Just to take off like she had now and do whatever she wanted to do.

Including pulling Jake into this scrape with her. She did feel better that he would be on the premises, even if he would not exactly be on her level.

She grinned to herself. ‘I can already see you sitting around the kitchen table with the other servants, gossiping about me.’

‘Gossiping?’ Jake echoed.

‘Oh, yes, you have to complain about me, my eccentric ways… That will surely make the others feel sympathy for you. They will share their bit about their masters, providing you with exactly the kind of information you need.’

‘Your eccentric ways?’ Jake asked.

Alkmene shrugged. ‘You can make something up. Be resourceful.’

‘That will be the only part I’ll enjoy,’ Jake groused.

Alkmene stared ahead, folding her hands in her lap. ‘You know how staff know everything that goes on in a house. Who doesn’t like whom, what quarrels there were shortly before the master died. What ways he had, how he kept the stones. Who went to bed early that night or stayed up, scurrying about claiming to have a sleepless night. You know how servants are. They peek and listen and get into cabinets where they are not supposed to go. If caught out, they act like they are contrite about it, but in fact they are gloating and can’t wait to tell their fellows about it. I bet if you would just dump your pride and sit with them in the kitchen at night, you’d scoop up your worthwhile tidbits by the dozens…’

‘Enough,’ Jake said tightly. ‘You are laying it on too thick.’

Alkmene bit her lip, hoping she had not really overdone it. She knew someone fiercely proud and independent like Jake would rather eat his hat than pose as a servant, but it was true that very valuable information could only be gleaned that way. The servants would never confide in her: a titled woman who had never shown her face at the estate before. They would gossip about her, all right, but they would never tell her a thing.

Jake sighed. ‘I am only doing this because I have to, remember. For Mac’s sake.’

‘Of course. Good. I will call you Parker. I have always wanted a valet called Parker.’

Jake rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t push me.’

‘Well, I do need a reason to have you around. I will have to claim my health is much weaker than they ever suspected it was. Of course my mother died pretty young of a weak heart, so I might easily convince them I am not very strong either. That I need you to carry things for me, fetch things for me, drive me around, make sure everything is just right for my needs.’

Jake gritted his teeth audibly.

Alkmene laughed out loud. ‘I am sure it will yield something great and you will be happy we did this.’

Jake shook his head slowly. ‘I hope too that we will get the killer, I really do, but even if we do and I can clear a man whom I respect and value, I will never, ever, be happy about this.’

Chapter Four

They whooshed through the entrance gate, seeing the house up ahead bathing in the afternoon sunshine. Alkmene gasped at its austere beauty, the many touches of refined architecture in the garden. The fountain, the sundial. The dove house. She had to explore soon and see it all up close. If she hadn’t come here on such a sad occasion and with a serious mission in mind, she would have been genuinely excited to see this place at last and meet the family she had never known. Her cousins who had grown up in India and who could no doubt share many fascinating stories about life there.

Jake parked the car right in front of the steps. Alkmene opened the door, but he stayed her with a hand on her arm. ‘Remember to get out of the car like you have trouble with it. You can’t dart about like a puppy while claiming to need your driver every step of the way.’

Alkmene acknowledged that he was right and took her time getting out of the car. She put a hand on her back and used the other to shield her eyes as she glanced up at the house’s imposing facade. A lace curtain moved like someone was looking down.

Family member?

Curious servant?

The front door opened, and a butler came down the steps with a solemn expression. ‘Excuse me, but the house is not open for visitors today. We have had a death in the family.’

‘I am aware of that,’ Alkmene said, hiding her surprise that the house had apparently been open to the public previously. Families often decided to do it to collect necessary funds for restoration and upkeep, but she had not realized her own family might be in such a position. As Lord Winters had apparently owned a fortune in diamonds, such a measure would seem unnecessary.

The butler was expecting her to continue and she hastily said, ‘I am Lady Alkmene Callender, the late Lord Winters’ niece from London.’

Niece only by a percentage, but she need not tell that to the butler, she presumed. ‘I have come all the way down here to pay my respects to the family upon Lord Winters’ death.’

The man shot up straight. ‘Of course, Lady Alkmene. Will you be so good as to follow me inside? There is quite a strong wind today, which makes it rather chilly.’ He made an inviting gesture towards the open door.

Alkmene looked at Jake. ‘You can get the bags in, Parker.’

Jake’s jaw set, but he did what he was told without showing any clear signs of rebellion.

Alkmene covered the few yards slowly and with her hand still resting on the small of her back. ‘I do find travelling so very exerting,’ she said to nobody in particular, but surely the butler would be all ears. If a hitherto unknown member of a family showed up, it was usually a momentous occasion for the staff. Who was this? What were they doing here? She had no doubt they would assume her arrival was associated with a will somewhere that might benefit her.

She did feel like a scavenger again.

Inside the cool hallway she looked with admiration at the oil paintings, the mounted deer, the hunting rifles casually hung upon the far wall and over the stairs. The house breathed a true country atmosphere.

The door to her left opened, and a strikingly beautiful tall dark woman came out. ‘What is this?’ she asked in a deep, slightly throaty voice. ‘I told you we would not allow visitors in this week.’