Chapter 10
Ten
There is an old Chinese proverb I had learned in my travels, that the best defense was a good offense.
I thought of that now as I sat across from Brodie in an anteroom outside the office of Sir Avery at the Tower of London. Where we had been delivered under armed supervision after being discovered in what was obviously a secret, secured area at Gosport.
We had been detained, telephone calls had been exchanged, along with the intervention of Sir Laughton, the family attorney, and someone else whose name was not mentioned, but who I strongly suspected might be the Prince of Wales.
We were then transported back to the rail station at Portsmouth and escorted onto the next train returning to London, where a police van waited to bring us to an emergency meeting with the director of Special Services.
The door to his office, deep within the ancient and imposing walls of the Tower—ironically built by my ancestor some eight hundred years before—was suddenly wrenched open. Sir Laughton appeared, features drawn due to the late hour of the night.
I did wonder what our offense was to be as we both stood.
“I have presented the facts as you gave them to me regarding your presence at Gosport. You should know that his Royal Highness has spoken on your behalf, due to special circumstances.”
“Are we to know wot those circumstances might be?” Brodie inquired with his usual calm.
“It will be explained to you both. My suggestion is to be straightforward. Answer the questions, tell the man what you know. Not speculation.” His next comment was for me, with a weary smile.
“However, my advice would be ‘the less said the better,’ on behalf of your present client.”
He then added, “I have spoken with her ladyship in spite of the late hour,” Sir Laughton shook his head. “I must say, she was not surprised, and I am reminded of some of her early ‘adventures,’ which I assure you are the cause of all my white hair." He bid us farewell.
“I will speak with the both of you afterward as regards Mademoiselle DeMille.”
Alex Sinclair, a Special Services agent, appeared at the doorway.
We knew Alex from previous cases. He was young, quite brilliant, and had invented an incredible code machine for the Service. It was all quite clandestine.
The Service had been created in the aftermath of several dangerous incidents in Europe and answered only to the Queen, or with increasing frequency to the Prince of Wales, who had been at the center of that first inquiry case with Brodie.
There were other incidents where a case we pursued had crossed paths with that of his Royal Highness and the Special Services Agency. And now?
It did seem as if we might have ‘stepped in it,’ as my great aunt frequently commented. That, of course, was a reference to her association with horses since childhood and at Ascot, where her horses regularly appeared.
I was more than familiar with that from my own childhood and the stables my father kept, as well as the usual refuse one had to be careful of in the streets of London.
It was an appropriate description of the present situation. The question was, what had Brodie and I stepped into?
“Straightforward answers,” Brodie reminded me in a quiet voice as he slipped a hand under my arm, and we entered Sir Avery’s office. Alex closed the door after having obviously been disinvited to this part of the inquiry.
Sir Avery was not at his desk as in the past in this sort of meeting, but instead stood before one of the few windows that looked out onto the green and that scaffolding where several notable persons had been hanged for a variety of crimes or possibly on some royal whim in the past.
He was as tall as Brodie, thin under his worsted suit of clothes, hand thrust into the pockets of his trousers in the way I had seen before in others when they either didn’t know what to do with their hands, or perhaps to prevent strangling someone.
Sir Avery was a precise, decisive man with gaunt features behind a full beard that had once been the color of his dark hair but was now streaked with white. I did wonder if Brodie and I might be the cause of that. It was an interesting thought.
When I would have spoken, Brodie shook his head—the wisdom of a former police inspector.
He had once explained that silence was often an advantage. Wait out the other person, since there was a great deal to be learned from their first statement. Therefore, we waited.
“I have the authority to have both of you brought up on charges of trespass and interfering in highly secret activities.”
That dark gaze met mine. ‘Wait’ it said, and we continued to wait.
“There are those who have faced a firing squad for what you have done.”
He slowly shook his head.
“But for the grace of the Almighty, and the intervention of his Royal Highness, I can do neither, due to your connections to the Prince of Wales.”
I was certainly relieved to hear that.
He continued to stare out that window with that steely gaze.
“I will hear your explanation of the situation now.” He slowly turned about, that sharp gaze fixed on Brodie.
“What the devil were you doing in Portsmouth? Trespassing into a secure area at the naval yard where no one is allowed other than workers.” His voice rose with each statement.
“And then entering a site that is off-limits to everyone except essential personnel!”
Then before either one of us could respond, that sharp gaze fastened on me.
“Lady Forsythe. It does seem as if you refuse to keep to your inquiries about missing jewels and hysterical wives whose husbands have strayed.”
Brodie’s fingers closed sharply around my wrist. I could almost hear his warning not to let my temper get the better of me at Sir Avery’s belittling comments.
“It is our understanding that Sir Laughton has presented the facts to you,” he calmly replied. “They are as he explained them.”
“I would hear them from you, Mr. Brodie!” Anger exploded, but Sir Avery was not finished.
“This agency is specifically tasked with protecting the interests of the Crown, interests which at times must remain secret to accomplish what must be done. You have interfered in that!”
I angled a look at the expression on Brodie’s face in an effort to determine just how precisely he would respond to that direct attack by a man he admittedly did not trust.
His expression was completely void of all emotion, that dark gaze direct and unwavering as he stared back at Sir Avery. Then, respectfully but succinctly, he replied.
“I would remind ye that Lady Forsythe assisted in exposing a plot against the Royals and, in due course, was severely injured during an assassination attempt against His Royal Highness. And with all due respect, if the Agency was doin’ their job, as ye say, there would have been no need for our present inquiries. ..sir!”
I fought not to burst out laughing. He had, in a very direct, succinct manner replied as Sir Laughton had recommended. Although perhaps not precisely as Sir Laughton intended.
That first inquiry case that involved my sister’s disappearance had been difficult...very near almost deadly.
I had been injured with a bullet wound to the shoulder, my first direct encounter with Mr. Brimley and his remarkable skill. The wound had healed quickly with no lingering impairment.
Not one to carry on about such things, I chose to ignore what had happened. However, Brodie had not forgotten, nor forgiven himself for not being there at that precise moment and taking the bullet himself.
Even now, a handful of years after, in private moments, he lightly touched that scar, and there was something in his expression. “I might have lost ye.”
As for the present situation, I wasn’t at all certain that Sir Avery would survive the moment, a vein standing out on his forehead.
He eventually managed to bring himself under a measure of control as he looked down at what appeared to be a report with the Royal Navy seal at the top. He then sat down at his desk, hands steepled before him, that sharp gaze fastened on Brodie.
“I must insist that you explain the present circumstances of your inquiry case.”
Straightforward, Sir Laughton had cautioned. Only as much as necessary.
Brodie gave me a reassuring nod and indicated one of the chairs across from Sir Avery.
I knew precisely what he was about, subtly sending a message to the man. I sat and then Brodie continued.
“Lady Forsythe received a request to meet with Mr. Theodolphus Burke of the Times newspaper. Upon her arrival, it was discovered that Mr. Burke had been attacked and severely injured.”
He continued to explain the note I received that contained the name of a woman. How, in the interest of learning who the murderer was, we had proceeded to the woman’s residence, where we discovered that there had been a disturbance and she had departed.
The remainder of the details were sparingly revealed and included the name of a witness to the murder and the discovery of his identity.
“Maximillian Steiner,” Sir Avery repeated, not surprised. “A man known to us.” And then continued.
“I am informed that news of Burke’s death has been withheld.”
“It was reasonable to assume that those responsible might be drawn out if they thought he was still alive,” Brodie responded.
“A plausible assumption perhaps.” He turned to me then. A bit of divide and conquer?
“What of your visit to Gosport, Lady Forsythe? And disregarding that it was a restricted area? A highly serious offense?”
The sarcasm was obvious as he pressed for more information. I did wonder how much Brodie would tell him, including the contact Adele had made with me the night before.
I was quite thorough with this interrogation, yet determined not to reveal more than absolutely necessary for Adele’s sake.
“The combination of the letter and numbers was discovered along with information for the date of 18 April,” I explained.
“And with your vast experience in world travel, you were able to conclude that it was necessary to go to Portsmouth,” Sir Avery snapped.