‘Well, I must say, Mr Rawlings, that you did a clever job in tracking us here. What put you onto it?’
John sighed. ‘Actually it was a chance remark of the coachman who drove us to Devon. He recognized Gorringe and said he had taken him to a stop near Lewes where a carriage had picked him up. He also remembered that the man had used another name though he could not recall it.’
‘So you came to Lewes on the off chance?’
‘Yes, I did. And then I heard about Vinehurst Place, that a terrible tragedy had been enacted within its walls. But at that time I had not made the connection.’
Richard Bassett interrupted them.
‘He’s got this far, Jack. We may as well tell him the whole story.’
‘But Richard, that would make him the most dangerous person to all of us.’
‘He doesn’t look dangerous to me. He looks like a man of honour. Are you, Sir?’
John gulped the cognac which had been passed to him and found he had drained the glass.
‘I believe that I am,’ he answered. ‘I tell lies sometimes, I adopt guises in order to aid Sir John Fielding’s enquiries, but I think I can answer that I am generally an honourable person.’
Richard leant his face close to the Apothecary’s. ‘Then I want you to take a solemn oath that what you hear tonight will remain your secret and yours alone.’
John was silent, considering his options and feeling the seriousness of the occasion. He either had to make a swift escape — which was an impossibility — or go along with their instructions. He looked round the room. Paulina Gower was shooting him a very black look. Mrs Silverwood, though serious, was giving him a half-smile, while Jemima actually seemed sympathetic. Nathaniel Broome was expressionless, Cuthbert Simms was looking perturbed, but the Black Pyramid seemed utterly fearful. He spoke.
‘What is the alternative, Richard?’
Richard — a tall man of medium physique with fair hair that had started to recede — answered very simply, ‘We should have to kill him.’
John sat rigid, then said, ‘In that case you leave me little choice but to swear an oath.’
There was an indrawing of breath from the onlookers and Nat Broome called out, ‘Let’s kill the bastard. He’s been a regular pain in the arse since we first met him.’
Richard was clearly in charge of the meeting because he said, ‘Do we need another death on our conscience?’
Lucinda Silverwood spoke up firmly. ‘No, we don’t. Let Mr Rawlings take an oath to remain silent and that will satisfy me.’
There were general murmurs of approbation and John gulped, almost certain that his life had been saved. But added to this feeling of relief was an enormous sense of curiosity. He longed to know the secret of Vinehurst Place. He longed to know which of them had actually murdered Fulke Bassett.
‘Get me a bible,’ he said, ‘and I will swear.’
Richard went out of the room and in his absence the Black Pyramid murmured, ‘If you let us down, Rawlings, I vow I’ll come after you, hunt you down, and this time I will kill you.’
But John hardly listened, feelings of worry for Rose consuming him once more. Had Irish Tom found her? Or was she not at Vinehurst Place at all? Had she, in fact, gone for a walk somewhere entirely different?
Richard Bassett came back into the room bearing a large and heavy family bible. He placed it on the table and told the Apothecary to raise it in his right hand. With a struggle John managed to do so. Then he said in as solemn a voice as he could manage, ‘I swear by Almighty God that everything I hear tonight shall be kept secret by me until the day I die.’ He turned to the Black Pyramid, alias Jack Beef, ‘There. Is that good enough for you?’ he said.
The black man merely shrugged his shoulders in a gesture that needed no words. Richard spoke again.
‘Please, all sit down. I intend to tell Mr Rawlings the story of how my father murdered my beloved sister — and the aftermath of his actions.’
There was a general shuffling of chairs and John, too, sat down on a small sofa. Richard began, his voice pitched so that everyone could hear him.
‘I think the tale really begins when my mother acquired a little blackboy to accompany her as was the fashion in those days amongst ladies of rank and fortune. She bought him when he was six and a frightened little fellow. We were living in town at the time but subsequently my father made a considerable amount of money in the City of London and built this house and moved Helen and myself out of London to live here. She was ten and I was twelve. Indeed I was the same age as the blackboy whom we had christened Jack.’
Even before Richard had said any more the Apothecary had made the connection.
‘Anyway the boy reached puberty a year or so later and my father was all for sending him to the plantations but my mother insisted on keeping him. She did not have any more living children. She lost two, born after we were, and then died giving birth to a stillborn child. By this time Jack had reached the age of sixteen and had become a useful servant with whom we often unofficially used to play. It was inevitable that he and Helen should fall in love. Inevitable but heartbreaking.’
Richard paused and looked straight at Jack Beef who had plunged his face into his hands.
‘They kept their secret with difficulty, even when Helen became pregnant. She was eighteen and in a state of despair lest my father should find out. Eventually she made the excuse of going away to stay with an aunt but in fact she rented a house in the company of our housekeeper and it was there that she gave birth.’
John was utterly silent, waiting to hear that the child had died, but much to his surprise Richard added, ‘To my beautiful niece,’ in such a pleasant manner that the Apothecary immediately assumed that she was alive after all. And then something totally astonishing happened. The dark-haired Jemima Lovell got to her feet and crossed the room to where the Black Pyramid was clearly weeping. Putting her arms round him, she said, ‘Don’t be upset, Papa. You know I love you.’
John was too astonished to do anything more than stare open-mouthed. Jemima smiled at him.
‘My adopted mother — or the woman I regard as such — is Mrs Silverwood. She nursed me from birth and brought me up in her little cottage on the estate. I owe her so much.’
The Black Pyramid wiped his eyes. ‘When Mr Bassett instructed Helen that she was to wed that filthy and ancient swine the Marquis of Dover, she refused, saying she loved another. But Bassett insisted and she blurted out that she had a daughter. Then he took a gun to her and shot her in the heart.’
‘He was always a violent man,’ said Richard. ‘Many’s the time that both Jack and I had a thrashing or were locked in the cellar. I don’t know what punishment he exacted from Helen.’
‘I do,’ said Jemima quietly, but would say no more.
John asked a question. ‘But how do the rest of you fit in? And what about Fraulein Schmitt? Were you really angry with her, Jack? Or was it all play-acting?’
‘It was a masquerade,’ the Black Pyramid answered sorrowfully. ‘She decided to moan all the way down — thought I must admit that that performance was not stepping very far out of character…’
He was interrupted by Paulina Gower who had remained silent up to this point. ‘She was a kind old creature, once you got to know her.’
‘But that was difficult,’ answered Nathaniel Broome.
‘And where did you fit in?’ asked John.
‘I was a footman here and when Jack decided to become a professional fighter I offered to go as his manager.’
‘And when was that?’
‘Just after Helen was shot. When Mr Richard Bassett closed the house and went to London.’
‘I picked up my child and took her on the road with me. That was until she was seven years of age when I placed her in a school. I tried to be a good father, Mr Rawlings,’ put in the Black Pyramid sorrowfully.