Mistaken Identity (Saved By Desire 3) (16 page)

“Best get to it then,” she murmured aloud and went to find her shawl.

Marcus watched her leave from his position in one of the upstairs rooms. He was in two minds whether to go with her to make sure she got there safely. But, the need to search the rooms while he had the place to himself was as essential because the identity of the gang.

“Finally.”

Marcus whirled around to find Ben grinning at him from the doorway.

“I thought you were off to Retterton,” Marcus drawled.

He mentally cursed himself for lowering his guard. He had been so focused on Jess that he hadn’t heard Ben creep up on him again. It was incredibly foolish given who was currently sharing the house. But, at least the lad had got a skill Marcus could utilise.

“I told Jess that I was going out but didn’t tell her where. I have been waiting in the trees for her to go shopping, and came back here to see what you are up to.” Ben’s face turned serious for a moment while he waited for Marcus to tell him what he was doing.

“I could do with your help,” Marcus confided.

“Are we going to search Mr Grant’s house?” Ben’s eyes were full of hope.

Marcus shook his head. “We are going to search this one. We need to go through the contents of each of the bedchambers.”

Ben nodded eagerly. “Count me in.”

They made their way to the first bedchamber. An hour later, they came out empty handed.

“There is nothing in there apart from a few changes of clothing. How could anybody live like that? I mean, there are no books or notes, or anything to give any idea what kind of things the man likes to do,” Ben grumbled. “What does Mr Abernathy do when he is in there?”

Marcus studied him. “That’s the problem exactly. What
is
he doing when he is in there supposedly for several hours at a time?”

“Not a lot given the look of that room,” Ben grumbled.

“He is supposed to be an accountant or some sort of desk clerk, yes?”

“I think so,” Ben replied with a frown. “He tells everybody he works in Retterton.”

Marcus nodded. “Have you ever followed him to see if he is telling the truth?”

Ben shook his head. “We usually take the guests on their word. We don’t usually go around stalking them to see if they are liars.”

“Fair point,” Marcus conceded. “However, I think that in Mr Abernathy’s case, we do need to follow him. I want to speak to the people who are supposed to employ him.”

“He does come back sometimes with ink stains all over his fingers if that helps?”

“It depends on what he has done to get the ink stains,” Marcus replied dryly.

“Doesn’t it prove that he is spending his days writing?” Ben asked with a frown.

“Yes, but what? What is he writing?”

Ben shrugged.

“So, we need to go to his supposed employers to check for ourselves that he works there,” Marcus reasoned.

“I can do that.”

Marcus shook his head. “On this occasion, I will do it. I don’t want the employers to be alerted to who I am, and tell Mr Abernathy that we have been asking questions.”

“I am coming with you,” Ben declared flatly. “You can’t involve me in this and then just expect me to stand back while you do everything. Let me help. I can, you know.”

“I am not saying you can’t,” Marcus sighed, and wondered what he had let himself in for.

While the lad’s enthusiasm was brilliant, it also posed considerable problems. That eagerness could very well bring the entire deck of cards crashing down around their ears. Still, having not had any word from Barnaby yet, he and Joe needed all the help they could get.

“Fine, you can come with me. Meantime, I think our Mr Abernathy has nothing in this room to do except sleep and stare at the wall. There are no hidden compartments, no secret walls, and nothing in the way of personal effects.”

“Correct,” Ben declared, as though Marcus had just asked for confirmation.

He hadn’t. He had just been thinking aloud, but he didn’t correct the lad.

“Mr Ball’s room is next door.”

Marcus nodded and followed him into the room. “Mr Ball is the quiet, shy one, whose gaze is always flickering around the table.”

“That’s right. When Mr Ball speaks, he does so quietly, almost to the point that I have to strain to hear him and miss most of what he says.”

Marcus nodded. He had his suspicions that the man’s quiet speech was to protect the accent Mr Ball couldn’t quite erase.

Once inside the room, he sighed deeply at the piles upon piles of books everywhere. In deference to Abernathy’s barren room, Ball’s room was cluttered.

“Please tell me that we don’t have to check all of these,” Ben murmured.

“Of course, we do, but there is a logical way of making sure we put them back
exactly
as we found them.”

Marcus showed him what to do, and began to shake the books out to check for hidden compartments. Once he had worked his way to the bottom of the pile before him, he checked the floor boards beneath and then moved on to the next pile.

“We are going to be here all day.” Ben sighed but began to work his way across from the other side of the room.

“I hope not,” Marcus replied fervently and moved on to the next pile.

“What are we looking for?”

“Anything we can find,” Marcus grunted. “Can you read?”

Ben shook his head.

Marcus sighed and took a look at the spines on several of the books. 

“Here,” Ben murmured as he peered into a small hole.

He pointed to a small groove that someone had carved into the wall behind a stack of books. When Marcus moved to join him, he slowly teased the object out of its confines and placed it on the floor so they could both see it.

Marcus carefully unwrapped it and shook his head when he revealed several precious gems to their stunned gazes.

“Oh, my word,” Ben whispered reverently. “They are beautiful.”

“They are not the Squire’s jewels,” Marcus murmured in disgust.

“Who?”

“The Squire,”

“What Squire?” Ben’s eyes were alive with interest.

Marcus knew that the lad’s reaction was so instinctive, and the honesty in his eyes was so pure, that Ben was innocent. He had absolutely no idea who the Squire was. He hadn’t been at the Squire’s house and wasn’t the courier.

“Framley Meadows,” he murmured, just to make sure.

Ben looked at him blankly. “What?”

Marcus shook his head. “So, tell me, Ben, who else in this village looks like you?”

“Pardon?”

“Who else around these parts, especially in the village, is about your height and build? Who would match your size and height and be able to ride for hours?” Marcus repeated impatiently.

Ben thought about that for a moment. “Well, there is Bert Rodgers; he is about the same height and size. But he suffers from his hips so couldn’t possibly ride for several hours. Mr Gillespie is a bit taller than me. Mr Ball is too short, and Mr Abernathy is too skinny. The only other person I can think of who is about the same size is Carruthers, but he is always with Lloyd. But, I don’t think either of them has been anywhere of late. They have been hanging around here, trying to catch me.”

“So stop,” Marcus warned. “Before they do catch you, and you end up going to prison for a long time.”

Eager to change the subject, Ben motioned to the gems on the floor. “What do we do with these?”

Marcus wrapped the jewels back up. “We are going to put everything back where we found it, and then check the rest of these books. Have you found any personal papers yet?”

Ben shook his head. “There is nothing personal in this room either; just several changes of clothing. But, there can be no doubt what he gets up to while he is in his room, can there?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Marcus murmured.

“You don’t think he has read any of them?” Ben persisted.

“There are numerous books in there, as you know. Piles and piles of them in fact. When Mr Ball moved in, did he carry numerous boxes to his room?”

Ben immediately shook his head. “No. So where have they come from?”

“It doesn’t matter where they came from. What matters is how the gang got the books into the house, and what they plan to do with them. There are far too many books in here for even the most avid reader to get through. Not only that, but those books cover all sorts of topics, including housekeeping. Either this man has an interest in ornithology, geology, philosophy, heraldry, etiquette, ancient Egyptians, Romans, and Greeks, and history or these books have been specifically brought here for some reason, and it is not for reading.”

“What do you think they want them for?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus sighed. “Let’s move on.”

“Look, no books,” Ben cried as soon as they closed the door to Mr Gillespie’s room. “What do you bet that we find nothing but clothes in here as well?”

“Mr Gillespie is the bird-watcher, isn’t he?”

Ben nodded.

“What?” he asked when Marcus stared thoughtfully into space.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised if
this
was Mr Ball’s room and the other room was Mr Gillespie’s. I mean, at least in the other room there is a book about birds. Here, there is nothing. Where are all of his specimens? Where are the books detailing the different breeds? Where is his viewing equipment? Does the man go out and sit in bushes all day?”

As he spoke, Marcus began to search. Not only did he find several changes of clothing, but on closer inspection, it was evident that the clothes had been placed in the drawers strategically. They were all so neatly liked up that Mr Gillespie had either a precise mind or the room had been deliberately set up.

“Stop,” Marcus ordered sharply.

Ben froze. “What is it?” he whispered.

“This room has been set up.” Marcus’ voice was thoughtful.

The tension thickened.

“What do you mean?” Ben whispered.

“Everything is as neat as a pin. Look at the boots on the floor. They have been lined up meticulously with the line of the floor board. Anybody searching here wouldn’t be all that bothered to notice, especially if they were in a rush. Then here, the shirts are all spaced equally apart. Anyone searching would mess these up and leave them out of alignment. Gillespie would know immediately that someone had been through his things. Given what they do for a living, tipping them off that you are suspicious is a really, really stupid thing to do. Don’t touch anything, Ben. Just look with your eyes. If you slide anything out, look for pieces of cloth in the drawers or something that has been put there deliberately as a visual warning that things have been disturbed.”

“Good Lord,” Ben whispered. “Only someone who has something to hide goes to these lengths.”

Marcus nodded. “Exactly. Let’s go.”

“Have you found something?” Ben asked hopefully.

“No, but this is too carefully crafted to be searched right now. We need to leave.”

He didn’t say so to the lad, but he needed to come back to search this room when he was alone. If Ben didn’t put something back in the same position as he found it, then Gillespie would know they were on to him.

Heaven only knows what would happen then
, he mused with a sigh.

They quickly moved on to Mr Brammall’s room.

“Good Lord, is that perfume?” Ben gasped as they entered.

“It is,” Marcus acknowledge. “But we will ignore the rather distracting scent and take a very brief look anyway, but again, look at the layout of this room. The carefully placed boots, the easy to topple pile of books, the small pieces of sewing thread placed between the drawers. Anyone searching could make the mistake of just pulling the drawers out. They wouldn’t notice, or pay attention to the thread that fell to the floor.”

“But Mr Brammall would notice as soon as he got back,” Ben whispered, shaking his head in disbelief at the pieces of thread Marcus pointed out to him.

Together the men checked everywhere; as much as they could with the time they had available to them. There was nothing untoward, except for white powder on the dresser that indicated the man wore make-up of some kind.

“Let’s go,” Marcus said and yanked the door open.

“But we haven’t searched it yet,” Ben protested.

“We aren’t going to either,” Marcus grunted. “Hurry up. Get out. Now.”

“Why? Nobody is here yet. They aren’t due back for hours.”

“Do they often go out like this and stay out all day?”

“Yes,” Ben replied firmly. “Each day is the same. They go out after breakfast, stay out all day and come back an hour before dinner. As soon as they have finished their meal they all head off to their respective rooms.”

“We are not going to search those two rooms because of what I showed you. There is a way to search without warning them that we have been there, but we are not going to do it today. I strongly suspect that there isn’t anything hidden in there anyway. With the corrupt magistrate hanging around, even if they have him on their payroll, they wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave themselves vulnerable by keeping anything incriminating in their rooms that Lloyd might find. I suspect that whatever they need to hide will be in Mr Grant’s house somewhere. We just haven’t searched it yet to know for sure.”