The Repentant Rake

    'At least we now have some idea where to look,' he said getting up.

    She held his arm. 'As for the other things I told you…'

    'Nobody will ever know anything about them from me.'

    'Thank you.'

    'But what about your mother?' he said. 'Will you tell her the truth now?' She shook her head. 'It might be a way to bring you closer together.'

    'Mother is too ill to cope with terrible news. If she heard that I had betrayed her by going behind her back, she would never forgive me. She might even say that Gabriel's death was a judgement on me. In a way,' she confessed, 'I suppose it is.'

    'No, Mrs Cheever. You were unlucky, that's all. It was a quirk of fate.'

    'Catch them, Mr Redmayne,' she urged. 'Catch them all.'

    'We will.'

    After giving her more assurances, he went into the dining room to tell Susan that he was leaving. Sorry to see him go, she could tell from his expression that Lucy had confided in him. When she accompanied him to the door to wave him off, something was troubling her.

    'Mr Redmayne?'

    'Yes?'

    'Earlier today, you dictated a letter for me to write.'

    'Yes - to Miss Celia Hemmings.'

    'Why did you ask me to send it?'

    'There's a simple answer to that.'

    'Is there?'

    'Yes,' he said with a grin. 'I want to read her reply.'

    Celia Hemmings took time to make up her mind. She was tempted to accept the invitation, if only to gain more insight into the family from which Gabriel Cheever sprang. But she could see the perils implicit in the situation as well. A meeting with a bereaved sister could be embarrassing for both of them. After mulling it over, she came round to the view that nothing was to be gained by a meeting with a woman she did not know and had no desire to befriend. Reaching for a sheet of paper, she dashed off a quick note.

    Five minutes later, it was being carried towards Knightrider Street.

    'Why are we going to Warwick Lane?' asked Jonathan Bale, walking beside him.

    'That's where Gabriel went on the night of the murder,' said Christopher.

    'Why?'

    'To see a friend.'

    'Is that what his wife told you?'

    'Yes, Mr Bale.'

    'Why had she kept the information back until now?'

    'Who knows?' said Christopher evasively. 'Bereavement has strange effects.'

    They turned into Creed Lane and headed north, wondering if they were following the route that Gabriel Cheever had taken on the night he was murdered.

    'Warwick Lane is not far,' noted Jonathan. 'It's in Faringdon Ward Within. Not an impossible distance from Paul's Wharf. They might have killed him there and brought his body to Baynard's Castle Ward.'

    'That's only supposition.'

    'I agree.'

    'He could have been brought to the wharf by boat.'

    'That, too, is possible. I just have the feeling that the murder did not occur in my ward. If I could prove that,' he confessed, 'it would make me feel better.'

    Christopher smiled. 'To prove that your ward was innocent?'

    'Oh, there's nothing innocent about it, Mr Redmayne. You should walk through its streets at night. All sorts of crimes take place there under the cover of darkness.'

    'I dare say.'

    'We have our share of murders, alas.'

    'It was how we first met, Mr Bale. When one of my clients was killed.'

    'I am not likely to forget.'

    'Nor me,' said Christopher. 'It was my first commission. I spent all that time working on the drawings but the house was never built. At least, this latest commission will not be abandoned because of a murder,' he went on happily. 'Sir Julius insists that he still wants his new house.'

    'Yes, Mr Redmayne, he mentioned that to me.'

    Christopher was surprised. 'You've met Sir Julius?'

    'He called on me earlier,' said Jonathan. 'When you came to fetch me, Sir Julius had only just left. He wanted to thank me for my part in the arrest.'

    'Quite rightly.'

    'Then he more or less ordered me to invite him in.'

    'That sounds like Sir Julius Cheever.'

    'We talked for a long time.'

    'I knew that the two of you would get on.'

    'You should not have told him about the Battle of Worcester,' said Jonathan, turning to him. 'It's something I never speak about.'

    'Why not? Are you ashamed of your part in it?'

    'Quite the opposite.'

    'Then you must have enjoyed meeting one of your colonels in that battle.'

    'I did, Mr Redmayne. Sir Julius is an interesting man.'

    'And an unpredictable one.'

    They crossed Ludgate Street and continued along Ave Maria Lane. Though they were chatting easily, both of them kept their eyes peeled for any lanes or alleys that might have been used in the ambush of Gabriel Cheever. At the next junction, they crossed into Warwick Lane itself and carried on until they almost got to Newgate Street. Jonathan spotted an alleyway to the left and decided to explore it, studying the ground with care as he did so. Unable to find what he was after, he gave up the search and went back to Warwick Lane to discover that Christopher had vanished. Assuming that his friend had turned into Newgate Street, he walked in that direction but a call brought him to an abrupt halt.

    'Mr Bale!' shouted Christopher.

    'Where are you?' asking Jonathan, looking around.

    'Down here!'

    Another narrow alleyway ran off to the left and bent sharply. Christopher's voice was coming from round the corner. Jonathan lengthened his stride and went down the alleyway. When he came round the bend, he saw that his friend was kneeling down.

    'Take a look at these, Mr Bale,' said Christopher.

    'Stones?'

    'Hundreds of them.'

    Jonathan joined him and bent down to scoop up a handful of small white stones. Holding them on the palm of one hand, he used the other to reach in his pocket. When he brought out the stones that had been caught up in the dead man's coat, he placed them beside the others. Christopher scrutinised them.

    'A perfect match!' he observed.

    'I've never seen stones like this anywhere in my ward,' said Jonathan, feeling their texture. 'They're like chippings from a statue. There must be a stonemason nearby.'

    'Then he deserves our thanks,' said Christopher with a grin. 'I think we may have stumbled on the scene of the crime, Mr Bale. And all because you kept a few stones in your pocket.'

    Jonathan looked around. A number of houses backed on to the alleyway. Some had doors to their gardens. Even in daylight, it was a fairly private place. At night, it would make an ideal venue in which someone could lurk.

    'Who was this friend that Mr Cheever was visiting?' wondered Jonathan.

    'His wife refused to tell me.'

    'Her husband was killed here. I'm certain of it. They must have taken him to Paul's Wharf across the back of a horse.' He scratched his head. 'Why kill him when they could have stolen the diary while he was out of the house? And if they did have reason to murder Gabriel Cheever, why move him? Why not leave the body here?'

    'They had to go to his house, remember,' said Christopher. 'My guess is that they were fearful of being discovered so they threw his body across a horse, took Gabriel with them, used his key to steal what they wanted then went down to the river to find a hiding place for the corpse.'

    'Paul's Wharf. They dumped the body beside the warehouse,' recalled Jonathan. 'It had far less chance of being discovered there than in this alley.'

    'They reckoned without Mr Warburton's dog.'

    Jonathan tossed all the stones away. 'We need to search for witnesses,' he said. 'It may just be that someone heard or saw something suspicious that night. I'll start with the houses that back on to the alley.'

    'You'll have to do that on your own, I fear,' said Christopher.

    'It's not my job, Mr Redmayne. I want to help you to hunt down those accomplices. I know two of the constables in this ward. They can knock on doors in my stead. I'll go and speak to them. But thank you for bringing me here,' he said solemnly. 'Now we know where he was killed. That's put my mind at rest.'

    'Good. I'll get back to Knightrider Street to continue the search.'

    'For what?'

    'Somebody with neat handwriting, Mr Bale.'