Part 4

“This is an appalling position you’ve put me in, Mr. Bellamy,” scoffed Lady Pembroke. She wore a heavy, dark peignoir and sat in a claw-foot chair. “I haven’t been alone with a man at night since my husband passed.”

“I do apologize, madam. But I promise it will be worth your time,” whispered Bellamy and leaned back in the wing chair beside the wardrobe.

“It had better.”

“Do you mind if we turn off the light?” asked Bellamy, turning the switch without waiting for permission.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Please indulge me. It’s twenty to twelve. Our midnight disturbance will walk through that door at any moment,” whispered Bellamy, and pointed at the wardrobe.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes. I believe this is how he’s been getting in.”

“Who is it?” she asked, when a few thuds of the wood resonated inside the armoire. Bellamy put a finger over his mouth and stood up ready to pounce.

The wardrobe opened. Bellamy sprang and grabbed the perpetrator by the collar. “Here we are. I have you now, boy,” grunted Bellamy and the perpetrator writhed and whimpered, despairing at being discovered.

Lady Pembroke turned on the lights.

“Henry,” yelped Lady Pembroke while the boy tried to get out of Bellamy’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to help. Please don’t tell on me. Please.” Henry started to cry.

“We’ll discuss it in a moment, Henry. I must call Mr. Fletcher,” said Lady Pembroke, picking up the dusty receiver.

“Mr. Fletcher? There’s no need for alarm. I’m with Mr. Bellamy in my boudoir. Wake Mary and Zelda and have them come to the house at once. Thank you.”

She hung up the phone and turned to Henry. “Now. What were you doing hiding in the wardrobe?”

“Oh, I don’t think he was hiding, madam,” replied Bellamy. “Haven’t you noticed anything peculiar?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Sit, boy,” said Bellamy, pointing to a chair. He let go of the boy’s collar and turned back to Lady Pembroke. “It’s the air.”

Lady Pembroke stepped toward the wardrobe. “The air?” she stepped closer. “The air.” She turned with a surprised look. “The air is cold,” she exclaimed.

“Precisely. There must be a secret passage behind the wardrobe,” said Bellamy. He stepped forward, pushed the clothes aside, and pressed the back panel. It swung inward, and a gust of cold air struck them in the face.

“The air is quite fresh. I suspect it leads to a secret passage in the coal cellar. The boy must have discovered it while helping his mother in the kitchen or wandering about the house, as boys do.”

“But why would he come here? There’s nothing of value in this room.”

“That is the wrong question, your Ladyship. What we need to know is how he managed to unlock the bedroom door, and why he was so desperate to get into the house in the first place.”

“How? And why?” Lady Pembroke asked.

“As for how he did it, I suspect he took the maid’s key each night and returned it before she woke. The servants share quarters in the coach house, so he would know where she keeps it. And since the maid must rise early, and I suppose she goes to bed with the chickens. She would never have noticed the key was missing. Am I right?”

He turned to the boy. The boy nodded.

“But why?”

“I think I have some idea,” said Bellamy, “Show her Ladyship.”

The boy fumbled through his pockets and pulled out several stained, crumpled sheets of paper. Bellamy quickly took hold of them.

“What is that?”

“The letter.”

“Letter? What letter?”

“Your letter. The letter from your late husband that arrived forty years too late.”

“But I have the letter.”

“No, you have only part of the letter. Henry stole the rest.”

“Stole? How?”

“A few weeks ago, you received a long-lost letter from your late husband. It arrived in an envelope, but the letter itself was incomplete. Is that right?”

“Yes, but…”

“Does it seem likely that several pages would go missing while the envelope survived? The letter was complete when it was posted. Someone removed those pages after it arrived here. Everyone simply assumed they’d been lost due to circumstances under which the letter arrived.”