Jack leaned back, having decided not to tackle the gentleman seated opposite and exit the coach. He’d grown interested in what they might tell him. “I can understand Mr. Welby would be after the story of the century, but where do you fit in, my lord? A serious interest, itwould seem, if it required kidnapping me at gunpoint.”
Atworth flushed. “These are troubling times, Captain Ryder. Let us discuss it once we are inside.” He glanced out the window as the carriage rocked to a stop. “Ah, here we are.”
The newspaper office was devoid of staff. The printing press stood silent, although the acrid aroma of printer’s ink and newspaper still permeated the air. Mr. Welby, a slight gentleman with gray wings at his temples and sharp eyes, introduced himself. “Let’s go into my office, where we can be more comfortable.”
Jack followed the men into the small room and took the seat nearest the door. “I’ll give you an hour, gentlemen, after which I have an appointment.”
He accepted the offer of brandy and waited for the two men to settle themselves. “Did you gentlemen meet with Lord Butterstone in Paris?”
Lord Atworth smiled without humor. “I thought we were to ask the questions, Captain.”
“Then you are in error. You know my involvement in this affair, such as it is. Now I wish to know yours.”
“You’re right. We were called to Paris, Captain.” Welby swirled the golden liquid in his glass. “Butterstone told us quite a story. We were sworn to secrecy, however.”
Jack put down his glass. “Then I might as well not waste my time.”
“No need. We trust you to keep it close,” Lord Atworth hastened to say. “Government members had discussed the possible disposal of Bonaparte, but Wellington wouldn’t have a bar of it. Not the honorable thing in his view. When an officer at the battle of Waterloo told Wellington that Napoleon was in their gun sights, he replied that it was ‘not the business of commanders to be firing on one another.’
“But not all are so squeamish,” he continued. “It was feared Bonaparte would make another attempt to escape, and succeed, as he had at Elba, then take the throne again as emperor. We’d have anotherconflict on our hands at a time when England is in a poor state after years of war. Butterstone was worried that should any poisoning be successful, and the English were found to be the culprits, it would cause a serious diplomatic incident that England could ill afford.
“He asked Welby to ferret out the truth. I was also to use my influence to dissuade them from such an action. But before we could act, Bonaparte was dead. We didn’t know whether the poisoning had been carried out or not, but Butterstone was still nervous. He intended to discover the truth when he returned to England. Then, shortly after that, he too was dead.”
“Am I to be told the name of this possible assassin?” Jack asked curtly. “I suspect Lord Caindale has some knowledge, but he has thus far refused to enlighten me.”
“Butterstone had his suspicions, but he wasn’t prepared to say anything until he had further proof. We hoped you might be able to tell us. There’s a suggestion royalty was involved,” Welby said bluntly.
Jack leaned forward. “Are you suggesting that someone in George’s set killed Butterstone to silence him?”
“No, no. We just don’t know. But it’s possible that someone of influence didn’t like Lord Butterstone bringing this to light,” Welby said moodily.
“Could he have had any tangible evidence?” Jack asked, still skeptical. “Have you considered how difficult it would have been to murder Bonaparte? How would the poison have been administered?”
“Through his jailor, Sir Hudson Lowe?” Atworth posed.
“The gentleman fiercely denies any knowledge of it,” Jack said.
“Lowe is a vindictive man,” Atworth said. “Napoleon said of him that he had a villainous countenance.”
Jack found Atworth increasingly annoying. “Still, it would not have been easy, when Napoleon barred him from his presence.”
“Still not impossible,” Welby said, firming his jaw. “He was still on the island.”
These two were like dogs with a bone. And he’d learned nothing from them. Either they didn’t trust him, or they knew less than he did. Jack threw back the last of the brandy and put down his glass. “I’m not sure what you ask of me, gentlemen.”
“To collaborate with us,” Welby said. “Pass on any information you glean from Colonel Bascombe and Lord Caindale.”
Jack had no intention of betraying the colonel and would keep his dealings in this affair secret. But Lord Caindale was another matter. “I expect you’ll keep me informed?”
“We will, rest assured.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “But nothing is to appear in print until it’s verified?”
“You have my word,” Welby said despondently.
Jack stood. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen. I have business to deal with.” He had a house in Mayfair to visit. Thepied-à-terrehis father had left him. But first he wished to alert Bascombe.
At the colonel’s home, Jack relayed to Bascombe Welby and Atwood’s request to be kept up to date with information and that they were watching him.
