Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Miss Jane Austen arrived at the office the next morning with renewed enthusiasm for the search, looking youthfully pink-cheeked and excited in her blue gown, matching pelisse and chip straw riding hat. It was hard to think of her as a staid spinster in her middle age.
‘I take it the meeting with your publisher went well?’ Dora asked with a smile as she showed Jane in to where Jacob was hastily clearing away the breakfast things. He rattled away with a tray to the scullery.
‘He is taking his time, but I am confident we can agree terms. I do so love having money of my own.’ Jane sat down on the visitor’s chair. ‘Dora, I have to confess, I’m considering a poplin gown. I saw some material at Layton and Shear’s that would tempt even the most parsimonious person.’
That made Dora laugh. ‘Jane, you have revealed your weakness!’
‘I’m afraid so. I am easily led into temptation when it comes to clothes.’
Jacob returned from the scullery where he had banished their plates. ‘Dora’s weakness is ice cream.’
‘And yours, doctor?’ Jane said archly.
The good humour vanished from Jacob’s expression as no doubt he remembered his trouble with opium.
‘He has too many to enumerate,’ Dora said quickly. ‘Coffee comes high on the list.’
From the flicker of interest in Jane’s eyes, she registered the awkward moment but let it pass. ‘What are we going to do today? Did you make any progress after I left you yesterday?’
‘We discovered that it would have been possible for a person to have been hidden upstairs at the time of the murders and to have left by the servants’ staircase without passing through the hall.
Mr Smith has stayed behind to question the maidservant at the auction of the furniture from the house in Barnes,’ said Jacob.
‘While we wait for him to return with news, I think we should give more thought to where the comte may have left his final report.’ Dora flicked through their case notes.
‘Not Barnes Terrace, not the bank. In Queen Anne Street, Julien did not know of anything of that nature and it appears that the government and the Russian friends have been through the late comte’s papers. ’
‘Ah yes, what about those Russians?’ mused Jane.
‘Count Vorontsov is a fine-looking man, but tough. I can imagine him on a battlefield ordering a charge, sabre drawn. His wife seems like one of those perpetual child women who lie on the sofa and beg to be looked after – no harm in her but no great good. As for Yekatarina Petrovna – she looks as if a day doesn’t pass without some chance for mischief. ’
‘She mentioned a debut. I couldn’t tell if that meant as a performer or as a lady on her first season,’ said Jacob.
‘Performer,’ said Jane and Dora together.
Dora laughed at their once more synchronous thoughts. ‘I don’t know what told you, but I recognise one of my tribe. I would hazard Miss Petrovna is a singer and no doubt very accomplished.’
‘Yes, she would walk the line between lady and performer most elegantly,’ agreed Jane. ‘It was rather vulgar of her to flourish her hand like that, evidence that she is willing to marry into respectability should the right candidate come along, so watch yourself, Dr Sandys.’
‘I am already taken,’ he said with a fond look at Dora.
‘Hmm. A love match? How interesting – rare and precious.’ Jane shook herself, returning to their business.
‘Were there not a few years when, despite their antipathy, the Tsar and Napoleon gritted their teeth and formed an alliance against us? The Vorontsovs would have distanced themselves from their old friend, the comte, as a result.’
Jacob nodded. ‘And now that alliance has collapsed and Napoleon is marching east, the Russians find it useful to return to London and revive the old friendship. The comte would have understood that the relationship was based on political expediency and not been shocked by that.’
‘Would he have trusted them?’ asked Dora.
Jacob shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Would he have trusted anyone?
I don’t think so, not in his game. If he did take the dangerous route of advertising that he had something valuable to share and was waiting for the best offer, my money is on him hiding it cunningly so equally wily people would not be able to steal it. ’
‘But he would want it on hand so that he could produce it, surely? The bidding period would be short as the material would lose its value as time passed,’ added Dora. ‘Indeed, perhaps it is no longer salient and those people attacking us are seeking a stale loaf?’
‘They were returning to Queen Anne Street for a party,’ said Jane suddenly. ‘What party? One they were holding or were they going out?’
‘And I wonder, was it a party attended by his political contacts during which he would decide who got the report?’ asked Jacob.
Dora checked their notes. ‘Julien said it was a musical party. I got the impression they were holding it because he said something about being at the house to make preparations. He could mean he was practising for his performance, but what if the D’Antraigues were the hosts?’
‘I went to one of their parties last year,’ said Jane.
‘They loved entertaining and did it regularly. The comtesse did not need any encouragement to delight us all with her arias at great length, and the comte got equal pleasure from showing off his art collection, also at great and exhaustive length. I am certain that if they were due to hold a party, Eliza and Henry would have been invited.’
‘In that case,’ said Dora, getting up, ‘I think we’d better go and ask them. Where are they this morning?’
‘Henry is at the bank, of course, but I left Eliza at Layton I’ll ask him at dinner.’ The server returned with an impressive stack of brown-paper-wrapped parcels. ‘It looks like you might prefer that to be the subject of conversation rather than your shopping bill.’