‘This case has really interested you, hasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it has. Having talked to a number of people about her, I feel that I know Mrs Horner. It’s made me care about her. Wherever she is, the woman must be very worried about her safety. Anybody held against their will would be. She may well be as mystified by what’s happened as we are.’
‘What happens next?’
‘I keep looking for her. As for the other business, it remains to be seen if the death threat to the Home Secretary is one that should be taken seriously. Even if it is credible,’ he observed, ‘nothing is going to happen to Viscount Sidmouth in the near future. The two men who signed that deposition will wait to see the effect it’s had. In other words, the Home Secretary has a breathing space. Mrs Horner doesn’t enjoy that luxury. She already is a victim of a criminal act.’
‘I feel for her. She’s in the most appalling position.’
‘We must remember her in our prayers again, my love.’
‘Yes, of course. I do sympathise with you, having two investigations to worry about. One must come first and it has to be the threat to the Home Secretary.’
‘Unfortunately, the man who assisted those fugitives may be just as difficult to find as Mrs Horner. London is full of clerks and scriveners.’
‘How many of them would take part in a conspiracy to commit murder?’
‘Very few, I daresay,’ he replied. ‘But there’ll always be those who will take money and ask no questions. Those are the ones I need to chase.’
‘Paul may make more headway than you,’ she said. ‘He’s looking for the men themselves.’
‘I hope he finds them soon. Parts of London have large Irish communities. Life for most people is even harsher across the Channel than it is over here. Paul has a long search on his hands. I hope he’s equal to it.’
Charlotte was puzzled. ‘That’s an odd thing to say.’
‘Well, you saw him earlier, my love.’
‘Not for very long.’
‘You must have noticed how jaded and lacklustre he seemed. Whenever we’re summoned to take on a new case, Paul is usually as excited as I am. I saw none of that excitement this time. What’s wrong with him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s unlike my brother to be so distrait.’
‘He may have distractions in his private life,’ she said, discreetly.
‘Then I’m unlikely to hear about them,’ he accepted with a smile. ‘Because we’re twins, we’re far closer to each other than most brothers – until it comes to matters of a personal nature, that is. Paul and I have never been able to converse about those. Too many things get in the way somehow. Ah, well,’ he concluded. ‘Let’s leave him to his distractions for the rest of the evening, shall we?’
Something was wrong. Most people in the audience were unaware of it but Paul Skillen noticed it the moment that Belvidera stepped onstage for the first time. Her appearance provoked a spontaneous outburst of applause. Though he joined in the clapping, Paul was dismayed. He’d seen the play on a number of occasions and each time there was an ovation for her, Hannah Granville had floated in on it like a swan gliding elegantly across the water. That didn’t happen here. She seemed mildly annoyed by the interruption and, instead of waiting for the acclaim to die slowly away, cut it short by plunging into her first speech. To someone who’d seen her scale the peaks of her art, it was as upsetting as it was disappointing. Paul couldn’t understand it.
Throughout the play, Hannah gave a competent performance that flickered into life intermittently without ever rising above a certain level. Her timing was good, her movement excellent and her gestures expressive. The sheer quality of her voice was enough to enchant most onlookers. In her final scene, she did manage to summon up some real emotion before she expired from a broken heart and Paul saw a glimpse of the actress who’d captivated him when he first set eyes on her. It was not enough to convince him that she was wholly committed to her role and he was bound to wonder if she was unwell. Needing to be reassured that she was in sound health, he joined the general exodus then slipped around to the stage door and stood on the outer fringe of the predictable gathering of male admirers.
It was clear from the comments he overheard that none of the others had noticed the loss of quality in her performance and – since he recognised a number of faces – he knew that some of the spectators had seen Venice Preserv’d before and returned to worship at the shrine. Fortunately, none of them looked at him or he might have been singled out as Hannah Granville’s former favourite and subjected to tart comments. As it was, all eyes were on the stage door. No head turned away from it for more than a moment. Every time another member of the cast emerged, there was a flurry of hope that Hannah would be on their heels but the hope quickly expired.