Chapter 33 #2
“I suspect that Miss Smith’s gentlemen, and not a few of the people at Mrs. Lynn’s parties, have been told a fairy story,” replied Adam.
“My guess is that the punters are being told that the money was being collected to use in the lookalike scheme. They are also told that Mrs. Lynn and her confederates will hold on to the money until the last minute, so that their extremely large bet will not change the odds being offered. That way, when the race was run, and the sure loser becomes the surprise winner, the betting gentlemen would stand to collect the largest possible sum.”
Rosalind considered this. “I assume no one is told just how many other gentlemen are in on the scheme?”
“And they are all sworn to secrecy about its existence,” said Adam.
“But if that’s the story, what is—or was—really going to happen?” But as soon as Rosalind said it, she knew. Sanderson had told them in the letter. “Good lord. They were going to take the money and disappear.”
Adam nodded. “Probably while the race was still being run. The best part, from their point of view, would be that when the scheme was discovered, not one of the men they’d robbed would be able to complain to the race’s officials, or to anyone else, because if they did, they would have to admit they’d been planning to profit off a cheat. ”
Rosalind opened her mouth. She closed it again. She felt very glad she was sitting down, because her head felt light.
“In its way, it’s rather brilliant,” she said.
“Yes,” agreed Adam blandly. “In its way.”
“And it may explain the true nature of the friendship between Elizabeth and Mrs. Lynn.”
“You think Elizabeth Kinsdale was part of this?”
“If not at first, then she became part of it,” said Rosalind. “Mrs. Lynn told me that the man Elizabeth met in the garden was from the Lansdown stables. She said Elizabeth was paying him to keep an eye on who was coming and going around Kinsdale’s Pride.”
“His name wasn’t Caleb by any chance?”
“It was. Did you meet him at the stables?”
“He was eavesdropping when Goutier and I talked with Foote.”
“Mrs. Lynn said that they’d sent word for him to come down to hear about what had happened when Admiral Walsingham was at the stables. I did not have a chance to learn any more than that,” she added, seeing his inquiring look. “She was arrested too soon for me to finish.”
“Did Mrs. Lynn say whether this Caleb might be our disgraced groom Nathanial Spence?”
“She said she didn’t know,” Rosalind told him. “I find I do not believe her.”
“I find I cannot blame you.” Adam pushed his plate away. “What I don’t understand is why bring Elizabeth into the scheme, but not Clara or Cynthia? We know they can’t have been involved, or they would not have wanted us here.”
“I don’t know.” Rosalind took a roll from the basket and tore it in half. “Something clearly drew Mrs. Lynn to Elizabeth as a confederate.” She tore the roll again. “But what induced Elizabeth to lie? Because she did lie.” She tapped a finger against Adam’s notebook.
“Blatantly,” agreed Adam.
“But she must have a reason to believe that Cynthia will support her lie.” Rosalind tore off another bit of roll. “Cynthia, but not Clara, who truly was at the party.”
“Perhaps she was concerned that Clara would tell Casselmaine.”
“Perhaps. But there’s something else. One of the Kinsdale girls had received a letter from the admiral’s brother, warning that the admiral was on his way.
She’d been trying to write an apology, but the draft I saw wasn’t finished, and she’d been very upset while she was writing. She might even have been crying.”
“One of them?”
Rosalind nodded, obscurely ashamed. “I believe it was Cynthia. She concealed a poorly written letter when I spoke with her at the party, but the truth is, I am not sure. There were three writing desks, and nothing inside with her name on it.”
“We know that she was very worried about the loss of income,” said Adam.
“And perhaps the loss of something else,” said Rosalind.
“Cynthia told me that she and her sisters met the Walsingham family while they were staying with a cousin in Lyme. She spoke of that time with great warmth and affection, and whoever wrote that apology letter, she wrote, and then crossed out, mention of the bonds of love between them.”
“You’re thinking of this boy that so infuriated Sir Anthony,” said Adam.
Rosalind nodded.
“Do you think Cynthia had relations with the admiral?”
“I think it’s very possible. The warning letter from the brother said he’d wrestled with his conscience before writing.”
“The admiral was married,” said Adam. “Layng has sent a letter to his wife.”
“So, a letter came warning one of the Kinsdale sisters about the admiral’s anger. Sir Anthony was going to evict the admiral after learning of the existence of a child. Mrs. Lynn heard Walsingham rage about knowing what game Sir Anthony was playing.”
“The admiral visited the stables, and Caleb would have seen him. And now the admiral is dead.”
“And when Cynthia heard about the admiral’s death, she was overcome,” said Rosalind. “Which was not something that happened when she learned her father died. At least, not that anyone said.”
“It’s Sir Anthony’s death that confuses me,” said Adam. “In order to succeed, the whole of the lookalike scheme needs Sir Anthony. He owns the horse. He hosts the parties that help bring in the local gamblers. He provided a facade for Mrs. Lynn and her confederates to hide behind, and …”
“And he was the one who would be blamed when they vanish,” said Rosalind.
“Exactly.”
A new, and unexpected idea sprang into Rosalind’s thoughts. “Adam, what if he was already blamed?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Mrs. Lynn said there was an altercation at the party, or there nearly was,” Rosalind said.
“She told me it was because someone thought the faro box was rigged. But what if it was because someone found out about the lookalike scheme and confronted Sir Anthony? What if they were demanding their money back?”
“And snuck back into the house afterward to reinforce their demands?” Adam’s expression turned sour.
“It’s possible, but it wouldn’t be my first thought.
And yet this damn thing has so many moving parts I can’t say it’s impossible.
” His voice dropped to a growl. “We need more time, and we don’t have it. ”
“When is the inquest?”
“Tomorrow. Three o’clock. Layng says if I want to bring any new witnesses, I need to find them before then.”
“He will not delay?”
“Not for my asking, or Goutier’s.”
“Mr. Goutier is here?” asked Rosalind, surprised.
Adam nodded. “And Sam Tauton. Bow Street sent them both to help keep order during the races. Goutier went out to Lansdown with me. Oh, and sends his heartiest congratulations on our upcoming marriage.”
Rosalind smiled softly. “I hope he and Mrs. Goutier will be able to attend the wedding breakfast.”
“They are planning on it.”
“Well, at least we are not without allies.” Rosalind looked down at the heap of crumbs she had made of her roll. “I wonder—” She stopped.
“What?” prompted Adam.
Rosalind was very tempted to say “nothing,” but instead she took a deep breath. “Mr. Layng will not yield to a request from you, or from Bow Street, but perhaps he could be induced to listen to the Duke of Casselmaine.”
Adam was silent for a long moment. “Would Casselmaine agree?” he asked finally.
“If I ask him.”
Adam regarded her quietly. “He won’t like it.”
“No,” she agreed. “Nor will he like me any better for asking it of him. But what choice do we have? Whatever her other crimes may be, we cannot allow Mrs. Lynn to hang for the thing she did not do.”