‘The same person as the one who pushed you?’
‘I suppose that would be a good way to pick a pocket if you don’t mind the violence.’
‘But highly risky. You’d swing for sure if you were caught.’
‘How risky would it be? If I were dead, or even dazed as I was, it was unlikely I would be able to identify them.’
‘But an onlooker might– the carriage driver did catch a glimpse of a man in a dark brown jacket and hat. If he’d been quicker to grasp the situation, he could’ve started a hue and cry after the person before they vanished. We were unlucky that he didn’t think to do so.’
They sat in silence for a few moments, the noises of the kitchen filtering back into Dora’s consciousness, the turning of the spit and the clattering of pans in the scullery. The smell of roast chicken flavoured with thyme made her mouth water.
‘If the pickpocket and the attacker are the same person, and if we think such a crime in broad daylight near a place as well guarded as Carlton House is unlikely for an ordinary thief, it does raise the possibility I was targeted,’ said Jacob. His expression turned sombre. ‘They might try for you too.’
‘You think it is associated with the case?’ Dora couldn’t think of anything she had discovered that would justify such a murderous attack.
Jacob took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. ‘I have two theories.’
‘Only two?’ She smiled affectionately at him. His busy brain was always working on problems, coming up with ideas and angles on the cases they tackled together.
‘When it happened, I was walking home from meeting a contact at the Foreign Office, a middle-ranking official called Thornbury– he’s a friend of Knighton, a school fellow of mine. He told me D’Antraigues was a government pensioner in receipt of a thousand a year.’
‘That explains a lot, like how they could afford two lavish houses. What did he do for his money?’
‘From Thornbury’s description of the situation, thecomtehad few contacts left in France, certainly no one close to theemperor, but he kept abreast with events through the chatter of the émigré community and by following events closely. You could say he made himself an expert and had sound instincts as to what developments meant for the war. Many of us only hold a piece of the puzzle; he was skilled at putting it all together.’
‘Doesn’t the government have their own people to do that?’
‘He also wrote fluent anti-Bonapartist pieces for them.’
‘That I can see as a unique skill. A Frenchman addressing the French is much more effective than anything an Englishman can write. I gather that they found him useful and were prepared to pay for it?’
‘Yes. Before coming to London he lived in Dresden and worked for the Russian delegation there; he knows the Swedes too. He has good connections with our major eastern allies.’
‘The Russians, the Swedes, and many of the German states fighting against Napoleon with us?’
‘Exactly.’ Jacob sighed. ‘I found all the changing alliances were enough to make my head ache before the accident, but now it is ten times worse.’
‘My poor love,’ said Dora with a wry smile.
‘That Thornbury chap said he liked all this international intrigue! Thrived on it! He went on to say that they were expecting a report from D’Antraigues but instead received news of his death.’
Now that was interesting! ‘The implication being that, if the report was written, it has gone missing?’
‘That’s what he thought.’
‘I wonder.’ Dora tapped her lip, reviewing what she had learned from Susannah Black. ‘That does fit with something odd about the crime.’
‘Go on.’
‘When we questioned the maid who witnessed the murder, she told us how Lorenzo didn’t take the chance to kill thecomtesseon first arrival but went upstairs to thecomte’s room. If he was in a murderous rage, why not lash out? I wonder if he went in looking for something and was interrupted.’
‘By thecomte?’
‘That would make sense. They clearly argued, or something happened, because a shot was fired. They heard that in the hall. Next thecomtestaggered to the top of the stairs and Lorenzo came up behind and stabbed him to death to finish the job.’
Jacob shuddered. ‘That shove felt very like a stab in the back. I’m grateful my assailant didn’t have a knife.’
He’d had a very narrow escape– it hardly bore thinking about. ‘Unfortunately for the D’Antraigues, Lorenzo did. But it was only after killing thecomtethat he came down and stabbed thecomtesse. He didn’t try to kill the witnesses but went back upstairs and killed himself with a second loaded pistol.’
