The Repentant Rake

    'We are still trying to find that out, Mrs Runciman. That's why I came.'

    'What can I do?'

    'Tell me all you know about your neighbours.'

    'That's soon done, Mr Bale,' she said, folding her arms. 'I barely knew them. They were very private people. They hardly stirred out of the house.'

    'Did they have many visitors?'

    'I never saw any.'

    'What of their maidservant?'

    'I met her in the market once or twice but she had no tongue in her head either. It was an effort to get a word out of her so I gave up trying. Neighbours should be friends, Mr Bale,' she insisted. 'Life is much easier that way. They thought otherwise.'

    'They must have had good reason to keep out of sight.'

    'I've no idea what it might be.'

    'Did you see anything of them at all, Mrs Runciman?'

    'Only on Sundays.'

    'Sundays?'

    'Yes, Mr Bale. They were regular churchgoers, no question of that.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'They were out of the house before the bells had even started ringing. I'd see them walking down the street arm in arm. They may have had some strange habits,' she went on, 'but I'll say this for them. They were true Christians.'

    Jonathan thought about a crucifix nailed to a wall.

    Alone in his dining room, Christopher Redmayne looked back on the day with a sadness that was tinged with pleasure. Breaking the news of her husband's death to Lucy Cheever had been even more harrowing for him than carrying the same tidings to Richmond. While the dead man's father and sister could support each other in their bereavement, his wife was completely on her own. That she somehow visited the morgue to identify the body was a tribute to her courage as well as to her love. Christopher had been moved to hear about it from Sir Julius. Yet it was what Susan Cheever had told him that really occupied his thoughts. Her unexpected arrival had been a source of joy to him and her comments about her brother's work had been a revelation. Christopher wondered if he had finally stumbled on the motive behind the murder.

    Eager to stay with her as long as possible, he had sensed that he should withdraw in order to let her talk in private with her father. They had been grateful for his considerate behaviour. There was much for them to discuss and it was over an hour before they called him back into the room. Even though Sir Julius still looked hurt and betrayed, a measure of understanding had clearly been achieved between father and daughter. Christopher prevailed upon them to eat a light supper then they departed for the night to their separate rooms. When Jacob had cleared everything away, his master sent him off to bed as well, wanting to stay up for a while himself to reflect on events. The very fact that Susan Cheever was sleeping beneath his roof gave him a recurring thrill. Even in such unfortunate circumstances, she was a most welcome guest. Her bedchamber adjoined his own. When he laid his head on his pillow, he realised, he would be less than six feet away from her. Christopher picked up the one remaining candle and headed for the stairs.

    A knock on his front door made him pause. He wondered who could be calling at such an hour. When he opened the door, he found himself looking at the last person he expected to find there.

    'Mr Bale!'

    'I am sorry to disturb you, Mr Redmayne,' said Jonathan, hands gesturing an apology, 'but I have learned something that may be of interest.'

    'Come in, come in.'

    'No, sir. It's far too late and I've a home of my own to get to.'

    'What is it that you have discovered?'

    'I spoke to a Mrs Runciman,' explained Jonathan. 'She lives close to the Cheever house in Knightrider Street. Gabriel Cheever and his wife kept themselves to themselves, it seems, though she always saw them going to church on Sundays. It was as I was leaving Mrs Runciman that I was given the news.'

    'What news, Mr Bale?'

    'The maidservant must have seen me as I went past the house earlier.'

    'Anna? The Cheevers' maidservant?'

    'Yes. She was waiting for me in the street. After we left her this afternoon, Mrs Cheever asked the maid to search the house more thoroughly to see if anything was taken. It was, Mr Redmayne.'

    'Go on.'

    'Some of Mr Cheever's papers were missing.'

    'I knew it!' said Christopher.

    Jonathan was puzzled. 'You did? How?'

    'This is not the time to explain. Suffice it to say that Gabriel Cheever had written something that could be a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. Thank you, Mr Bale,' he said effusively 'I'm so grateful that you brought this information.'

    'I felt that it might be important.'

    'It is crucial.'

    'Good,' said Jonathan. 'My visit to Mrs Runciman was worthwhile.'

    He bade farewell and set off down the street with his long stride. Christopher watched him until he was swallowed up by the darkness, then closed the front door and withdrew into the house. Before he could retire to bed, however, he was detained yet again.

    The clatter of hooves made him prick up his ears. Someone was riding along Fetter Lane at speed. When he heard the horse being reined in outside his door, he knew that he had another visitor. Christopher opened the door to see his brother dismounting from the saddle. Henry was almost out of breath.

    'Thank goodness you are here, Christopher!' he exclaimed.

    'Why? What ails you?'

    'I'm being followed.'

    'By whom?' said Christopher, looking up and down the empty street. 'I see nobody. Your imagination is playing tricks on you, Henry.'

    'There was someone, I tell you. He has been on my tail every inch of the way.'

    'You've shaken him off now.'

    'Only because I've found sanctuary,' said Henry, glancing over his shoulder. 'He is probably hiding in the shadows somewhere. Let me come in.'

    'At this hour?'

    'Please. I must.'

    'As you wish. Tether your horse by the stable.'

    A minute later, Henry stepped gratefully into the house and shut the door behind him. Christopher took him into the dining room, lit some more candles then passed a bottle of brandy to Henry. His brother poured some into a glass and drank it down.

    'I needed that,' he said.

    'You're shaking all over.'

    'You would shake if you had an assassin stalking you.'

    'Is that what you think he was?'

    'What else could he be?' asked Henry impatiently. 'I receive a death threat and someone follows me home in the dark. Even you must see a link between those two events, Christopher.'

    'A possible link,' conceded his brother.

    'Possible enough for me. I'll go no further tonight.'

    'You must, Henry.'

    'I'll stay the night here. Have Jacob prepare a room for me.'

    'Jacob is fast asleep in bed.'

    'Then rouse him from his dreams at once,' ordered Henry.

    'Damn it, man! I'm your brother. My safety surely comes before your servant's comfort.'

    'Of course, but I already have guests here. There's no room to spare.'

    'Guests?'

    'Sir Julius Cheever and his younger daughter.'

    Henry was indignant. 'Are they being preferred over me as well?'

    'It is not a question of preference,' said Christopher soothingly, 'but of expedience. They came to London to identify Gabriel's body. I could hardly turn them away.'