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Authors: Rhys Bowen

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BOOK: Away in a Manger
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Mr. Montague was now staring at them in wonder. “Quite right,” he said.

“The children had that locket in their possession until it was taken away by trickery—by your nephew,” I said, not looking at Eustace. “And I gather that your daughter had a lovely singing voice. Emmy also has a beautiful voice. Can you sing one of your mother's songs for your grandfather?”

Emmy looked up at me. I put an arm around her shoulder, and she started to sing.

Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,

Smiles awake you when you rise,

Sleep, little darling, do not cry,

And I will sing a lullaby.

She looked up at her grandfather. “That was a song Mummy always sang me at bedtime.”

The old man now had tears streaming down his face. “That was one of Margaret's favorite songs,” he said. “My wife always sang it to her at bedtime too. And this little lady looks just like her.” He held out his hands to Emmy. “Come, child. Give your old grandfather a kiss before he dies.”

“You're not going to die, Mr. Montague. I think we're in time to save you. I suspect you've been drugged for some time now … maybe poisoned as well,” I said.

“What is that?” He looked across at the nurse, who was now standing in the doorway. “What have you been giving me?”

“Only what your doctor prescribed, Mr. Montague. Nothing else.”

“I saw her putting a spoonful of a white powder into your hot milk, Mr. Montague,” I said.

“Of course. That was the medicine he'd been prescribed to calm his stomach. I just did what I was directed,” the nurse said.

“That powder is now with the police, being analyzed,” I said. “If there's nothing wrong with it, then you've nothing to worry about.”

“I'm only the nurse. I do as I'm told,” she said, “and Mr. Everett gave me the tin with the directions printed on it.”

“Maybe Mr. Everett can give us the name and address of the doctor who prescribed the medicine?” I turned to look at Eustace but he wasn't there.

“Eustace?” Julia called. “Eustace, come back and explain yourself. Tell them you did nothing wrong.”

Eustace came back into the room. He pushed past me and went right up to his uncle. “This stops right now,” he said. “I have worked hard all these years to make sure your business prospers in your absence, Uncle. I have earned my inheritance and I refuse to be cheated out of it by a couple of street brats, by the spawn of a nobody from the gutter.”

“My father wasn't a nobody!” Tig said angrily, bravely stepping up to face Eustace. “He took good care of us. And my mummy loved him.”

“Please spare me the sentiment,” Eustace said. “And don't think of changing your will, Uncle. If you do, I'll take you to court and prove that you are of unsound mind. Do you think the courts will acknowledge the children as his legal heirs with no documents and no proof?”

“But you'll have to do without my money, Eustace,” Julia said. “How could I have been so blind? I thought you were a nice person but I can't believe how badly you're treating your relatives. I can't marry such a man. Aunt Olivia, do you have your carriage? I want to go home, please.”

“No, Julia, you don't understand,” Eustace said. He tried to grab her arm. She shook him off. “It's these people. They have twisted the truth.”

“As to that, Mr. Everett, it is you who has twisted the truth,” I said. “What about your cousin's locket that you stole? And the letters your uncle never received from his daughter? And do you think that Julia will still want to marry you when she learns of the company you keep and the clubs you frequent?”

Eustace's face flushed angrily again. He turned on me, raising a menacing hand, and for a second I thought he was going to strike me. “You meddlesome bitch,” he said. “I'll make you pay for this.”

“Enough, Eustace,” Mr. Montague said in a voice stronger than I would have believed possible. “Get out of my house. I never want to see you again.”

“I'll go,” Eustace said, suddenly icily calm, “but if I do, then they go with me.” And to my horror he produced a pistol from his pocket. He pointed it at the children. “You two. Over here. Now.” He grabbed Emmy by the hair, dragging her to his side, then held the gun at her head. She let out a little whimper. Other than that the room had gone silent.

“Come on, march. We're going for a ride.” He waved the gun around at the rest of us, who stood frozen as if in some horrible tableau. “And if you try to stop me, I won't hesitate to kill them. In fact it will give me considerable pleasure.”

We watched helplessly as he forced the children down the stairs. Then we saw them put into the backseat of his automobile, Emmy's little face staring up at the house as if begging us to rescue her. Eustace cranked the automobile and it roared to life. I couldn't wait a second longer. I ran down the stairs, followed by Julia and her godmother, and we watched from the doorway as the car disappeared down the drive. It was now snowing hard, great white flakes falling silently to blot out the world.

“Your carriage, quickly,” I shouted. It was still standing there, the horses under a snow-covered blanket and the driver standing beside it, wrapped in a rug and looking miserable. Julia and I piled inside the carriage and we took off at a canter. The carriage swayed as we turned onto the narrow lane and plowed through the new snow. We clung on. It was hard going for the horses. The snow fell faster and faster until it was swirling around us in a world of whiteness.

“We can't go on like this,” the coachman called down. “I can't see two yards in front of me. That automobile will be long gone.”

“He's right,” Julia said. “We should go back and call the police.”

“By then the children will be dead,” I said. “Please just try and make it into Great Neck. It can't be far now.”

We came around a sharp bend and the carriage jerked suddenly to a halt. One of the horses let out a frightened neigh. I let down the window and leaned out, as snow swirled into my face.

The driver had climbed down. The horses were stamping nervously. Through the blizzard there was a hissing noise. “Don't look, ma'am,” he said.

I ignored this remark and let myself out of the carriage. The automobile had skidded off the road at the bend and had hit a tree. Its front was buckled in and Eustace Everett lay sprawled across the steering wheel, unconscious or dead. Frankly I didn't care which at the moment.

“Where are the children?” I shouted, and pushed past the coachman. The backseat of the car was empty. A lump came into my throat. He had killed them already and dumped their bodies. But surely he had not had enough time to do that … I looked around and picked up a small footprint and then signs that someone had scrambled up a snowbank beside the road. They had survived and fled while they could. But a blizzard was now blowing and they were not wearing any outer garments. Neither was I for that matter.

“Julia,” I shouted. “Go on into Great Neck and get help. Tell them the children are lost in the storm. I'm going to try and find them.”

“But you've no coat on,” she said.

“Neither have they. I must find them before it's too late,” I said.

“Here, take this.” She threw me down the traveling rug that was in the carriage. I draped it around my head and shoulders as the carriage disappeared into the gloom. I heard the jingle of harness long after I could see them. I slithered up the bank and tried to spot another small footprint. It was snowing so hard that I'd have to work quickly before they were all covered. But then I spotted one. It was facing in the direction of a stand of trees on the other side of the field. Snow blinded me as I slithered and stumbled forward, sometimes plunging into snow up to my knees. I could no longer see more than a foot in front of me, and I plowed on guided only by instinct and desperation. I don't know how long I blundered in that nightmare. I could no longer feel my feet or hands. My face stung. My eyes watered and my breathing was ragged. I realized how stupid I had been to have attempted this. Now quite possibly I'd die in the snow as well as the children. I thought of Liam and Daniel and Bridie. How could I have let them down like this?

Surely there must be some kind of homestead somewhere out here, I thought. What about all those mansions we had passed? And the market gardens and small holdings. People live out here. It's not that far from New York City. And as soon as I'd bucked myself up with those thoughts I saw a dark shape through the blizzard. It formed itself into a small hut or shed. I stumbled up to it and lifted the latch on the door. The warm herby smell of cow dung greeted me and I saw two cows looking at me anxiously. I took off the snow-covered rug and shook off the coating of snow. As I did so I heard a sound—a gasp, and there in one corner were the children, huddled together.

“It's all right,” I said. “I'm here. That man won't be coming after you anymore.”

And they rushed into my arms.

“We'll have to stay here until the storm dies down,” I said. “But the cows will help keep us warm.”

I found enough clean straw and we huddled together under the rug. I don't know how long we were there. I think we might all have drifted off to sleep. Then through my half-consciousness I heard a sound—the sweet ringing of a distant bell. And suddenly it came to me. It was Christmas Eve and those were the first bells of Christmas. We really were away in a manger and we were going to be safe.

 

Twenty-six

It was later that day when a big cart horse pulling a sleigh finally found us. We were bundled in rugs and taken into Great Neck. There we learned from the local sheriff that Eustace Everett had been taken to hospital and was expected to recover. The sheriff was pleased about that, as Eustace would now have to face kidnapping and attempted murder charges. I found out that the sheriff had received a wire, presumably from Daniel, giving him the result of the chemical analysis. The mixture given to Mr. Montague had contained arsenic, opium, and barbiturate. So I had been right. Mr. Montague was being drugged and poisoned.

We were taken back out to the estate and received warmly by a very worried Mr. Montague and Miss Van Woekem. After a good hot meal it was decided that the children should return to Sid and Gus for the time being, until their grandfather was recovered to good health. I was glad about that as I knew Sid and Gus were looking forward to celebrating Christmas with them and had surely bought far too many presents. Emmy sat on my lap and Tig snuggled against me as we undertook the long carriage ride back to the city. Fortunately the snow had abated, but it was still hard going and the journey seemed to take forever. Julia and Miss Van Woekem sat facing us. Julia stared out of the window, saying nothing. I thought she was being very brave. To have found out the man she planned to marry had such an evil side must have been a horrible shock to her.

It was only when the carriage stopped at the entrance to Patchin Place that she said, “I have to thank you, Mrs. Sullivan. You saved me from a life of grief. Eustace promised me the moon—trips to Europe, and of course to be mistress of Fairview. It all seemed so exciting.”

“I don't think you'd have enjoyed being mistress of Fairview for long,” I said. “I am rather afraid you might have met the same fate as Margaret and her brother and father.”

“Don't.” She shuddered. “How can any man be such a monster?”

“There is both good and evil in the world,” Miss Van Woekem said. “But you and I shall celebrate Christmas together, Julia.”

“You'd be very welcome to join us for Christmas dinner tomorrow,” I said. I'd said it more out of politeness, but I saw a pleased expression on Miss Van Woekem's face.

“Really? How kind. I can think of nothing better than Christmas with a family. That is how it should be celebrated.”

*   *   *

Relief flooded Daniel's face when he saw us. “You're safe. Thank God. I was so worried. When that man came to the door, telling me what the mixture contained, I was afraid for you. It felt terrible being stuck here and able to do nothing. I sent a cable but got no reply.”

“We were delayed by the snowstorm,” I said, smiling as I kissed his forehead. “Mr. Everett tried to escape but his automobile hit a tree. So he is in hospital and will be arrested for attempted murder.”

“And Mr. Montague? Will he survive, do you think?”

“I think he will make a splendid recovery with no more drugs in his system. He'll need building up, of course, but Mrs. Braithwaite will see to that.”

“And will he welcome his grandchildren?” he asked.

“Absolutely. Although it will be hard for Sid and Gus to give them up.”

“Nonsense,” Daniel said with a laugh. “In a few weeks they'll be planning a trip to Outer Mongolia or learning to fly an aeroplane.”

*   *   *

When darkness fell we lit the candles on the Christmas tree and roasted chestnuts on the fire. I sat with my son on my lap, contentedly sucking his thumb while he gazed in wonder at the flickering candlelight on the tree. Bridie snuggled up beside me and I smiled to my husband across the fire, thinking what a lucky person I was to be safe and warm and spending Christmas with my family.

Bells awoke us, ringing out glad tidings all over the city. We all went to early mass, even Daniel managed to walk that far, his arm tucked through mine. Then stockings were discovered by the fireplace. Liam's dog was too big to fit in a stocking but he gave a delighted squeal when Daniel wheeled it in to him. Bridie took the nuts, the orange, and the sugar mouse out of her stocking, thanking us politely. Then her eyes grew wide as she unwrapped the doll from its festive paper. For a moment I thought she was going to cry.

“It's the most beautiful doll I have ever seen,” she stammered.

BOOK: Away in a Manger
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