‘Yes, I know about that. He was in regular correspondence with the government. It was men from that department who searched his study. They were most aggrieved that nothing turned up. I told them what I’ll tell you now: the night before my parents died, as I left to come here, my mother was excited for the party and my father said it would be a very lucrative affair as he had something explosive up his sleeve.’
‘What did you think he meant by that?’ asked Miss Austen.
‘It was my father’s way of saying he had valuable intelligence, something that many people would pay for. He had been saying for some time that his pension wasn’t sufficient and that he could augment it elsewhere.’
The theory that he had provoked a bidding war seemed a good one, noted Jacob.
‘Do you think it was something Lorenzo would kill for?’ asked Dora.
Julien sighed. ‘I don’t know, Miss Fitz-Pennington. I thought he’d run mad, that my parents’ death was just a horrible, inexplicable tragedy, but since you raised the question with me the day before yesterday, I’ve begun to wonder. I even discussed it with Count Vorontsov. My father never completely trusted Lorenzo. The Italian hadn’t been in service with him long enough to earn the trust, he said, but he found the man useful.’
‘You mean by conducting ladies to his room discreetly?’ said Jacob. ‘Apologies to the present company.’ He looked to Miss Austen who kept her head down, pencil moving.
‘My father was no saint. I am aware he had his lady friends,’ said Julien. ‘We French are much more sophisticated than you English when it comes to relationships. Mother had her own amours– or did until I was born. Neither hid this from me. They loved each other and that was enough faithfulness for them both. They were each other’s best friend when it came down to it.’
‘Was the countess or Miss Petrovna one of your father’s special ladies?’ asked Dora.
Julien gave a bark of laughter. ‘Definitely not the countess. Can you imagine her having the energy to pursue an amour outside of her marriage, or even in it?’ A wicked glint of amusement lit his eye, showing the witty man he normally was under better circumstances.
‘Miss Petrovna?’ asked Jacob.
He shrugged. ‘I never saw anything of that nature between them. My father loved music, and she is a talented musician; that was the bond between them, if anything. If there was more in Dresden, I’m afraid I do not remember. But Yekatarina had only been in England a few weeks before they died so it doesn’t seem likely. Besides, the countess keeps throwing her at me. If that had been a known affair, it would not be in very good taste to suggest her as my wife, now would it?’
‘But not impossible?’
Julien spread his hands in a hopeless gesture. ‘Does it matter now?’
It might matter very much but there was nothing to be gained in distressing him with their suspicions. Jacob looked to Dora to take up the questioning.
‘If your father had something he wished to hide but keep close at hand, what do you think he would have done with it?’ asked Dora.
Julien got up and paced to the mantelpiece. Jacob thought for a second that he might be going to open a secret compartment and solve the mystery for them, but instead he rubbed the dust off the clock which wasn’t ticking. ‘I need to wind this. The servants are cutting corners.’ He turned to look at Dora. ‘My father would never have forgotten to wind the clocks. He had a mind that noticed details. He loved playing games with me when I was little to encourage me to develop the habit of paying attention. It has helped with my music and in so many other areas of my profession, I can tell you.’
‘What game did he play?’
‘Oh, the usual one. No doubt you’ve played it yourself. He would invite me into his room and ask me to take note of where everything was, then ask me to leave and come back again a minute later. I had to pick out what he had moved or changed.’
‘We used to play that with objects on a tray,’ said Miss Austen. ‘Never with anything as challenging as a room.’
Julien smiled sadly. ‘My father liked a challenge.’
‘If we were to ask you now, what is different about the rooms your father used from how they usually were, what would you say?’ asked Jacob.
‘What? All of them?’ Looking thankful for the excuse to be moving, Julien didn’t wait for an answer. He got up and prowled the library. ‘I can’t see anything. I’ve moved a couple of books but that was over the last few days.’
‘This was his study?’
‘Yes, when in town. That’s his desk. We searched it thoroughly. There are hidden compartments, but I emptied those.’
‘What did they contain?’
‘His will– before you ask, I’m the only child so everything comes to me. Some coin. Nothing in the nature of a report or recent letters.’
‘Perhaps you should look downstairs in the room where the party was to be held,’ suggested Jacob.
‘The music room? Very well. Ladies?’ Julien opened the door for Miss Austen and Dora, and they descended the flight of stairs, through the hall and into the room where they had first met him with his Russian guests.
‘I see your father liked his theatrical works,’ said Jacob, noticing the Zoffany and the Watteau again.
