Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
The majority of the concertgoers went to supper with Mrs Austen in the breakfast room.
She was ably escorted by Knighton while a select few followed Henry into a little-used drawing room downstairs.
It was normally thought to be too dark and cold for entertaining, but it served their purposes well for this auction.
The guests upstairs were unlikely to wander down here and it was possible to leave quickly if necessary.
Dora slid into the back of the room, joining Jane by the window. They used the heavy drapes to conceal their presence. This was Jacob’s show, with his performer, Henry, about to take centre stage. Neither of them wanted to upstage this carefully laid scene.
‘Are you crossing your fingers?’ Dora whispered.
‘And my toes,’ confirmed Jane.
The gentlemen and three ladies who had indicated that they were taking part in the bidding took seats at the front.
Jacob had told Dora who they were during the intermission.
The Swede, the Prussian, the two Russian women, the men from the Foreign Office and Michel Percy were all expected to be present.
He had been surprised to find Portugal had sent a representative in the comely form of a Miss Rodrigues, a lady that Thornbury had muttered was their head of intelligence, known for her seductive ways.
Many a minister and general had got into trouble with her.
Jacob stood next to Henry, the print of Vesuvius in his hands.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Henry, ‘now to the very interesting conclusion to the evening.’
Julien arrived, gave the room’s occupants a hard stare, and stalked down to the front. He took the seat that had been prepared for him, facing them. The young man had grown up quickly over the past few days.
‘You are all aware of the tragic murder of the Comte D’Antraigues’s parents last month,’ continued Henry.
‘You are also aware that the late comte was a man of unparalleled sagacity as far as it stretched to predicting the outcome of political and military events. He was due to submit a report on this on the very day that he was killed, and you were all bidden to pledge what you would give for his insights.’
‘Almost all of us,’ said the Swede. ‘I do object to the presence of a Frenchman in the room.’
Henry spread his hands. ‘I am exceedingly sorry, Your Excellency, but I have to abide by the terms of the will. The comte specified that all diplomatic personnel were to be invited. He did not foresee that the French envoy would make use of this loophole, and I am unable to go back to get the will amended. I do know, however, that the present comte is unhappy at his presence. Monsieur, will you leave to spare a son further distress?’
Percy looked apologetic. ‘I am devastated that the comte would think my presence here hurtful. I have something to offer that I believe he will want to hear.’
Henry huffed as if he were annoyed that Percy was sticking. ‘Very well, then we may proceed. Dr Sandys, the report?’
Jacob stood forward. ‘You will have noticed that there was a delay in calling you together. That was because our friend here did not know where the report had been concealed by his father. He had a cryptic clue but did not know how to unravel it. My partner and I were engaged to find out and we located it yesterday. It is here.’ He flourished the print.
‘The winning bid gets this picture and the report which we believe is concealed inside.’
‘You believe?’ asked Miss Petrovna. Her eyes narrowed on the print.
‘Yes. It is a transparency but look…’ Jacob held it to a candelabra. ‘No change. The report is folded between the two layers. We have ascertained that it is there but gone no further. The comte’s instructions were strict on this point. Only the winning bid gets to read it.’
‘And you expect us to believe you?’ asked Percy dryly.
‘I’m not sure anyone here has a choice but to believe me. You are free to leave if you object. No? What I can promise on my honour is that this print contains a copy of the comte’s report in his own handwriting.’
Jacob stood back, letting them mutter among themselves as they absorbed this information.
Henry came forward again. ‘Your bids please.’
Each representative placed their envelope on a silver tray that he passed round for the purpose, all apart from Percy who sat back with an amused smile. Henry handed the tray to Julien who broke the seal on each. His eyebrows winged up as he read what were doubtless impressive figures.
‘Do we have a winner?’ asked Henry.
Julien nodded.
That was when Percy made his move. ‘My apologies for my tardiness, monsieur le comte, but I could not seal my bid. I can only present it.’ He pulled a rolled document out of his inside pocket and placed it on top of all the other bids.
‘I have here a letter returning to you all your ancestral estates in France and her colonies. I offer not only the monetary value of those estates, but the return of your honour and prestige in France!’
Dora could have laughed. How like their wily Frenchman!
From their past dealings in the Elgin investigation during which he kept wrong-footing them, they knew Percy would have a surprise up his sleeve, something that would help him win the bid, and he had not disappointed them.
They had anticipated a heap of gold, not this offer of restoration of the family.
They could only hope Julien was not seduced by it into revealing their plot.
The young Comte D’Antraigues unrolled the document. He looked hard at the seal. ‘This is valid?’
‘It is. Endorsed by the Emperor’s Chef de Cabinet.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Julien looked at Henry, then Jacob. ‘What do we do? It is by far the best bid. No one else can offer me this.’
Henry scowled like he was chewing a mouthful of fishbones and feared to choke. ‘The will is clear.’
Percy smiled broadly. ‘I adore the uprightness of the English legal system, second only to the Code Napoléon.’ He plucked the print out of Jacob’s hands. ‘Don’t look at me like that, mon cher docteur. I have no doubt you read the thing. This now puts us on, how do you say, level pegging, hein?’
Like an actor who knows when to take his exit before the catcalls and rotten fruit start flying, Percy walked swiftly to the door. ‘à bient?t.’
The door shut behind him. Miss Petrovna shot to her feet, in her hand a stiletto that Dora hadn’t seen her pulled from a pocket sheath in her evening gown.
‘What are you thinking! You can’t let him leave with that!’ she shouted, making to follow.
Henry grabbed her arms from behind while Jacob disarmed her.
‘I’m afraid we can’t have you slitting the throat of a guest,’ Jacob said to her. ‘That would be terribly bad form.’
She was spitting mad, like a cat that has had a bucket of water thrown over her. ‘You imbecile! Do you want to lose the war?’
‘How do I know that the French having the report will have that effect?’ Jacob said with a laudably puzzled expression. ‘None of us knows what is in it.’
‘But we do! He predicts that Napoleon will lose because he dares to invade my country.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Jacob shrugged. ‘The French won’t like that, but it is too late now. The comte has his estate returned fairly. They can’t ask for their money back.’
‘Urgh!’ The lady gave a cry of utter frustration at the stupidity of men.
‘Let me spell it out for you. If they are warned by such a reputable source as the late Comte D’Antraigues, they will call off the invasion.
They will overwinter in Kiev or Warszawa and march in the spring.
Napoleon will keep his army intact and he will win! ’
‘Oh, dear. That does sound serious,’ said Henry.
The Prussian stood up. ‘We must stop the Frenchman.’
‘I’ve got men outside,’ said the Swede. ‘I’ll have him followed. We can stop any dispatches before they reach the coast.’
Good luck with that, thought Dora. Percy would be heading straight for his yacht on the Thames if his past actions were anything to go by.
Julien stood up and bashed the silver tray like a gong, startling them all. ‘Enough. Yekatarina, tell us. How do you know what was in my father’s last report?’
She blinked several times then straightened her spine. ‘He showed a draft of it to me, Julien. I didn’t know where he put the final version, but I knew what he was going to say.’
‘When did he show that to you?’ asked Jacob, following up the opening Julien had given them.
She pressed her lips together.
‘Then I’ll tell you when it was. I have spoken to your senior officer, to Count Vorontsov.
He told me that his country was making approaches to employ the comte again as a Russian informant, writing reports for him to send to Moscow.
You had been delegated to handle him, to persuade him to work again for the Tsar, to woo him, if you like. ’
‘I did no—’ Her eyes were bright with exasperation. She would clearly like to strangle the whole pack of them.
‘You did. The count explained to me that Lorenzo Stelli was placed there by you to facilitate your access to the comte. Many people would assume an attractive lady visiting the comte by the backstairs was there for amorous reasons. Lorenzo knew otherwise. He showed you in on the day that the murders took place. You were upstairs when it happened. Are you going to tell us what he did, or shall I? By the way, Count Vorontsov is now fully aware of the events and your part in them. He had thought Lorenzo had succumbed to a fit of madness, and if you were to blame, it was for a poorly chosen operative. You had not told him you were there that morning, had you?’
The circle of listeners now seemed more like a trap than people who would back her up on the importance of the French not getting the information. Her gaze skittered around the room looking for an exit.
‘Please,’ she appealed to them. ‘This is not important. We must stop Percy!’