The Connicle Curse Read online

  “So you’ve heard her assertions?”

  “Domestics gossip.” He shook his head like a disapproving parent. “Really, Mr. Pendragon. Are you so naïve? It would seem a wonder the newspapers level such praise upon you.” He brushed at his jacket’s lapels and ran two fingers along the length of his overgrown mustache. “I don’t see it.”

  “And if the evidence were conclusive?”

  Mr. Aston chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Then I should wonder about Arthur’s supposed demise,” he said as he stood up. “Not to mention the ineptitude of you and the Yard. Good day, gentlemen.”

  Colin tipped him a curt nod and charged for the door before abruptly swinging around as he reached the study’s threshold. “Is your bookkeeper at Columbia Financial named Teller?—”

  “Tessler,” I corrected as I joined him.

  “Wynn Tessler is a partner in the firm. He can hardly be classified a bookkeeper. I work with Noah Tolliver. Really, Mr. Pendragon, this has almost been amusing.”

  Colin flashed a fox’s smile as he turned and barreled off.

  I mustered what I could of a grin in the face of Mr. Aston’s unpleasant gaze before hurrying after Colin. I caught up with him some distance down the graveled drive just as he dove a hand into his front pocket and extracted a coin. “Whatever do you suppose had him so tossed about?” I asked as I fell in step beside Colin.

  “Hmmm . . . ?” came the distracted reply as the coin began gliding deftly between the fingers of his right hand. “Mr. Aston? It would seem he feels distinctly reproached by us. Which is wearisome, given how little I care about what he does with himself short of committing murder.”

  “Yes, but what do you make of it?”

  “Make of it?” He tossed me a wry look. “He is a haughty tosser who imagines himself above the likes of anyone not worth an elephant’s weight in sterling. I should be delighted to reorder his thinking.”

  “He defends infidelity as though it were a birthright.”

  “Men like him believe it is. But you’re missing the point.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “How glibly he recriminates both Edmond Connicle’s firm and the local doctor. He either means to steer us or is truly a reprehensible man. I haven’t decided which yet.”

  “He is certainly dismissive of Mrs. Connicle.”

  Colin grimaced. “I’m afraid that’s something we are bound to find prevalent amongst those who know her.”

  “Of course.” I heaved a sigh.

  “What I’m interested in,” he said as we reached the street and he swung out an arm to hail a coach, “is this man at Columbia Financial we keep hearing about.”

  “Wynn Tessler?”

  A hansom cab pulled over as Colin slid the coin he’d been flipping back into his pocket. He shouted an address up to the driver and we climbed aboard. “Charlotte Hutton says her husband complained about Mr. Tessler’s handling of their money. And now we know that Hubert Aston, though he does not work with Mr. Tessler, is well enough acquainted to refer to him by his first name. I find that provocative.”

  “Seems a bit thin to me.” I shrugged.

  “Well, of course it’s bloody thin,” he shot back. “Do you have a better idea? Shall we go off after the country doctor? Or perhaps you’d prefer we just leave Alexa with Varcoe and let him settle on the voodoo bollocks.”

  “Don’t be a twit,” I admonished. “What happened at the Yard this morning? Did Varcoe finally release Alexa?”

  “He did. That woman is ruddy well outraged at what’s happened to her and I can hardly blame her. The evidence Varcoe has against her is absurd and yet he’s treating her as though she were caught in flagrante. How did I forget what an arse he is?” Colin turned and glared at me. “Why didn’t you remind me?”

  I shook my head.“I will remind you that you need his help on this case. He has given you access to more information than you normally ever get.”

  He heaved a sigh. “You have more of a point than you know.”

  “Do I?”

  “Varcoe showed me the photographs of the blood splatters in the Connicles’ shed. Looking at them again, one after the other like that, it made me see something I had not noticed before. The patterns could not possibly have come from a single source, someone having been butchered with a knife while standing in the center of the space. Not unless the victim had spun completely around as he fell, which is preposterous. I’m convinced that scene was meant to do nothing more than throw the Yard off course. Make them believe that Edmond Connicle had died there in some ridiculous ritual. No.” He glanced out at the passing streets as we crossed the Thames into the city proper. “Wherever Edmond Connicle is, he means to be thought dead.”

  “You think he’s a willing part of it?!”

  “It seems an awfully elaborate scheme to kidnap a man.”

  I exhaled my surprise. “What did Varcoe say?”

  “About what?”

  “Everything you just told me.”

  He gave a slight shrug. “I may have forgotten to mention it to him.”

  I laughed. “So that’s how it works?”

  “You don’t think I’ve lost my mind completely, do you?”

  “I should have known.” I glanced around as great, long shadows from the increasingly condensed buildings began to block the light of the sun along the road. “Where are we going?”

  “To meet Wynn Tessler.”

  “Is he expecting us?”

  A rogue’s smile slid onto Colin’s face. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

  CHAPTER 24

  We were waiting in a grand outer office with rich oak wainscoting climbing halfway up the walls and maroon velvet-flocked wallpaper with a subtle French pattern covering the rest. The parquet floor was a darker oak and had several plush area rugs placed about that looked like they came from someone’s château in the Loire Valley of France. The furniture was substantial and covered in tufted leather the color of port. Each piece was so massive that even Colin, with his broad shoulders and powerful arms, looked about to be swallowed whole by the wing-backed chair he was trying to fill. But the single item that spoke most to the level of Columbia Financial’s success was that the whole building had been converted to electric lighting.

  “Mr. Tessler will see you now.” A thin, stoic young man beckoned us to follow him. His deportment was so flawless that it seemed the firm must surely belong to him. At least until he brought us to a set of double doors, where he knocked once before swinging them open to reveal a huge office with room enough for several couches, a small bar beneath one of the windows, and an enormous desk behind which sat a barrel-chested man of middle years with dark features. “Mr. Tessler,” our young escort said with the practiced ease of one who had done this a thousand times, “I have Mr. Colin Pendragon and Mr. Ethan Pruitt of Scotland Yard.”

  Colin cringed as Mr. Tessler came over to us and shook our hands with a ready smile. Mr. Tessler stood about three inches taller than Colin and possessed a swarthy handsomeness crowned by a raven-black nest of hair. “Gentlemen.” His voice was as solid and resonant as his handshake was meant to impress. “Welcome to Columbia Financial Services.”

  “I’ll bring some tea,” the young man announced.

  “You mustn’t,” Colin said at once. “We won’t stay but a few minutes.” The lad nodded and let himself out, pulling the doors shut. “We do appreciate your willingness to meet us without notice,” Colin said as we followed Mr. Tessler to the couches. They were arranged in an open-sided square to create a sort of conversation area but in actuality reminded me of the seating at the Earl of Arnifour’s opium den.

  “I would be remiss not to,” Mr. Tessler replied easily. “I assume this has something to do with Edmond Connicle’s terrible death?”

  “He was a founding partner, was he not?” Colin asked, ignoring the question.

  “Indeed he was. Frankly, without Edmond there wouldn’t be a Columbia Financial. He was the majority
stakeholder in the beginning. It was only after we began making some real money about a dozen years ago that he finally became just another overpaid senior partner.” He gave a light chuckle that quickly died in his throat. “It’s all so horrid. Especially given his wife’s delicate nature.” Mr. Tessler shook his head. “Edmond made me the executor of his estate after she was hospitalized some years back. She spent several months at Needham Hills after suffering a terrible bout of hysteria. It took quite a toll on her.”

  “Yes. I have experienced the residue from that place myself,” Colin said, and I was relieved when he did not elaborate. “What would you think if I told you she believes she spotted her husband near Covington Market yesterday?”

  Mr. Tessler blanched as he stared back at Colin. “That would be dreadful news. Poor Annabelle.”

  “And what if I told you that I now suspect she may be right?”

  Mr. Tessler’s brow furrowed as he flicked his eyes from Colin to me in the space of an instant. It was as though he were checking to see whether Colin might be playing some awful joke on him. “Mr. Pendragon . . . ?” was all he said.

  “Is it possible Edmond Connicle is off on some business?”

  Mr. Tessler shook his head. “No. I would know that. Our business rarely takes us out of the city.”

  “Can you think of any reason he might want to disappear in such a way?”

  “Such a way?”

  “To be perceived of as dead,” Colin said flatly, as though speaking about the weather.

  “No. Never.” Mr. Tessler continued to shift his eyes from Colin to me. “Are you jesting?”

  “I do not jest when it comes to murder,” Colin said as he stood up and wandered over to the large windows along one side of the office. “Was he having any trouble here at the office? Funds gone unaccounted for? A soured business deal? An angry client? A young lady come to call too often?”

  Mr. Tessler looked noticeably uncomfortable, though by which suggestion I could not be sure. “Edmond was a considered and thoughtful man, which is what made him such an outstanding leader at this company. His ethics were beyond reproach. Everyone admired him. What you are suggesting is just”—he seemed quite beside himself as he searched for the right word—“impossible.”

  Colin nodded as he turned from the window. “Impossible . . .” he repeated, coming back over to stand behind me. “Such a curious word. Rather like a challenge. Tell me, Mr. Tessler, did he have any business dealings with Arthur Hutton?”

  “Oh my.” He drew in a breath and shook his head. “Another terrible tragedy. But Arthur was my client. I took care of him and Charlotte personally. Are you thinking there could be some correlation between what’s happened to the two of them?”

  Colin forced a hollow smile. “Beyond the wisp of a doubt.”

  “But what about that African? You cannot possibly think his death related to Edmond and Arthur?”

  “You would be amazed at some of the things I think.” He flashed a tight smile. “Did Edmond Connicle have anything to do with the Hutton accounts?”

  “Never.”

  “Then what do you make of her assertion that her husband had grown displeased with the way their money was being managed ?”

  Mr. Tessler allowed the semblance of a smile to cross his lips. “Arthur made some foolish choices and he was not a man to own up to it very easily. I have no idea what he told his wife, but you know how women are about business. They haven’t the first notion of any of it.”

  “And yet most manage a household quite handily,” Colin shot back with an easy grin. “I do believe we’ve taken enough of your time.” He nodded and headed for the door. “If you will permit me one last request . . . ?”

  “Whatever I can do to help,” Mr. Tessler answered smoothly.

  “I should very much like to get a look at the Connicles’ financial ledgers tomorrow morning, and perhaps those of the Huttons as well.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be here in the morning.” He flung open the doors and walked us back through the waiting area. “I’m going out to pay my respects to Mrs. Hutton. You’re free to come in the afternoon, but you’ll not find anything of interest. You can be assured of that.”

  “Very well then.” Colin smiled amiably. “We shall be here tomorrow afternoon.”

  “As you wish.” Mr. Tessler shrugged, pulling the door to the suite open and offering his hand. And though his grip remained absurdly firm, it was the first time I noticed he did not meet my gaze.

  CHAPTER 25

  Dinner had been dispensed with, Mrs. Behmoth’s preeminent corned beef and cabbage, and Colin was already throwing his dumbbells about. He was pacing in front of the fireplace, his arms straining against the weights, which seemed quite lost on him, given the otherworldly look clouding his eyes. He had said little during dinner, though there was much I was curious to ask. I settled into my chair and pretended to read the newspaper for a few minutes, Colin’s pacing and huffing as steady as the clock on the mantel, before finally giving up my ruse.

  “Do you suppose Varcoe is ever going to find out who the body we thought was Edmond Connicle really is?”

  The dumbbells pistoned toward the ceiling, one after the other. “I shouldn’t think so. Just ask yourself how many people could disappear in this city without causing a ripple?”

  I nodded. He was right. Nobody knew that better than I.

  “Someone, very likely Edmond Connicle himself, has been playing the Yard and us for fools all this time. Leading us like lemmings.” Colin set the dumbbells down but did not stop his pacing. “I don’t like being made a fool.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “The body we thought was Edmond Connicle was burned beyond recognition for what we now know are obvious reasons, while the fetishes beneath it had been conspicuously buried to ensure they would be found. Yet when it came to the murder of Arthur Hutton the fetishes were shoved in his mouth because now we were looking for them, while his body was barely burnt. It didn’t need to be.” He dropped into the seat beside me. “Somebody is working very hard to point us right where they intend for us to look.”

  “At the Connicles’ scullery maid, Alexa.”

  “Precisely.”

  “And you think that might be Edmond Connicle?”

  “Almost certainly. But to what end? And who else might be working with him? He cannot be doing all of this alone.”

  “Is Varcoe doing enough to try and find him?”

  Colin stood up and stalked back to the fireplace, poking at the embers arbitrarily. “He’s got a small task force trolling the East End and the wharfs, and he’s sending a few more to stake out the Covington Market area, but I doubt that’ll yield anything. Edmond Connicle couldn’t be daft enough to show up there twice.” He shoved the poker back into place and turned to face me. “Which is why we’re going to have a look at his financial ledgers tomorrow. See if we can figure out what he might be up to. Beyond that . . .” He shook his head wearily. “I’m going to bed.” He headed down the hall toward the back of the flat.

  I heaved a sigh myself and decided bringing an end to this day might be just the thing when a sudden pounding drifted up from the door below.

  “I’m not home!” Colin hollered.

  I chuckled as I heard Mrs. Behmoth make her way to the door. I was fairly certain she would find young Paul on our front steps looking for another crown or two after his daylong siege shadowing Sunny Guitnu, but when I peeked over the balustrade onto the foyer below I found myself staring down at Inspector Varcoe’s snow-white head.

  “Where’s Pendragon?” he barked at Mrs. Behmoth.

  “And a ruddy good evenin’ ta you too,” she sallied right back.

  Varcoe’s eyes shot up and landed on me. “You’ll want to hear this, Pruitt. You’re both going to want to hear this.” The thick foreboding in his voice made me immediately nod and wave him up. This confounding case, I realized, was about to get worse.

  “I suppose you’ll be wantin’ t
ea!” Mrs. Behmoth groused as she shut the door and trundled back to the kitchen.

  I did not bother to answer her but headed back to rally Colin even as I heard the inspector bounding up the stairs behind me. He would just have to make himself comfortable while I did so. I opened the door to our room just in time to find Colin flinging his undergarments into a pile near our armoire. “We’ve company,” I said.

  “The only company I want”—he looked back at me with half-lidded eyes—“is you.”

  “Would you settle for Emmett Varcoe?”

  “Not when I’m starkers.” He hurried across the room and began pulling his clothes back on. “Did he say what it’s about?”

  “He says he has something to tell us. Something we’ll both want to hear.”

  “Interesting.” Colin draped his tie around his neck and shrugged his coat on, not bothering with shoes as he pecked my cheek and yanked the door open. “Then let us see what our partner has to say for himself,” he said as he padded off for the study.

  “Pendragon!” the inspector bellowed the moment he saw Colin. Despite his being disheveled and in stocking feet, it earned him nary a flea’s hesitation from Varcoe. “You are not going to believe who has just appeared from out of nowhere!”

  “Edmond Connicle?” Colin responded without inflection.

  Varcoe’s jaw unhinged as he stared at Colin. “How could you know that? Are you keeping information from me?”

  “Don’t get yourself in an uproar. Whom else could you be here at such an hour to announce? It’s fundamental. Now wherever did you find him?”

  “Just past Tower Bridge by the Thames. A couple of my men came upon him being beaten nearly to death by some bloke whom they let get away. He’s in hospital now. He hadn’t regained consciousness when I left there to head over here. I’ve got him three armed guards posted outside his room.” Varcoe’s eyebrows furrowed as he bolted back to his feet. “This bloody case is going to be the end of me.”

  “Then we haven’t a moment to lose.” Colin snickered as he rushed back down the hall for his shoes. “And we’ll need to make a stop in Holland Park on the way.”