Death in the Dark Walk by Deryn Lake Page B

could be of assistance. But all I found was a dead girl, beyond my help or that of any mortal man.’
    â€˜Then, why . . .?’
    â€˜Because I glimpsed the murderer, Sir. Vaguely saw a fleeing figure.’
    â€˜And so Mr Fielding thought you could be of assistance to him?’
    â€˜That is the fact of it, yes.’
    Jonathan Tyers turned to stare out of the window behind him, a window that overlooked the wonderland he had created. ‘How strange to think that a murderer stalked these glorious groves,’ he said softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. ‘The worm that hides in the heart of a perfect rose, no less.’ He turned back to look at John. ‘It has already affected my trade, you know. The Gardens had far few visitors both last night and the night before.’
    â€˜But why, for God’s sake?’
    â€˜Perhaps they feel he still lurks here, mad enough to vent his spleen on any hapless woman.’
    John considered the idea. ‘They might be right at that. Perhaps he bears a grudge against the sex.’
    â€˜Or maybe just against whores and kept women,’ Mr Tyers added quietly.
    It was a thought that had not occurred to the Apothecary but it seemed to make a terrible kind of sense. ‘But if there is a lunatic at large he could strike again at any moment!’ he exclaimed.
    â€˜Even, perhaps, at you,’ said the Proprietor, almost in a whisper.
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜That he may have had a better sighting of you than you did of him. If that is the case he might not be sure how much you actually saw.’
    John shivered. ‘And thus wish to silence me for ever?’
    â€˜Just so.’ Mr Tyers made a sudden sympathetic face. ‘You have grown pale, Sir. May I offer you a glass of claret to restore your colour?’
    â€˜You most certainly may, Sir,’ John answered with feeling.
    â€˜Brace up,’ the Proprietor continued, smiling and pouring two generous glasses, ‘the killer may equally well have seen nothing. It seems most likely to me that he knew the girl and hated her. She had led quite an interesting life, I believe.’
    â€˜So I have been informed. Pray tell me what you know of the Comte Louis de Vignolles.’
    The Proprietor sipped his claret, his long thin fingers winding round the stem of his glass.
    â€˜The dead girl’s former protector?’
    John nodded.
    â€˜Well, he’s tall, dark and handsome in a typically Gallic manner. I believe his parents were aristocratic Huguenot immigrants, arriving in this country with plenty of good breeding but scarcely a sou between them. He solved the family’s problems for them by marrying money.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Yes, the daughter of some wealthy Sussex landowner. I presume the Comtesse’s father craved a title for her, albeit a foreign one. Anyway, they were wedded and bedded, and since then friend Louis hasn’t looked back.’
    John looked thoughtful. ‘And the Comtesse? Was she aware of her husband’s infidelity?’
    â€˜That is a question I cannot answer. You see, nobody knows a great deal about her. She’s a veritable drab of melancholy and took to her bed some years ago, a martyr to ill health. I’ve heard it said that the lady likes nothing better than to spend all day lying upon a chaise suffering with the headache.’
    â€˜Are you suggesting that she seeks attention in this manner?’
    â€˜That is the consensus, yes.’
    â€˜I see. Then it is hardly surprising her husband took a mistress.’
    â€˜There was no-one in the
beau monde
who blamed him.’
    â€˜So I imagine he was extremely upset when that self-same mistress abandoned him for another?’
    Mr Tyers nodded. ‘Very much so.’
    â€˜Upset enough to kill, do you think?’
    â€˜Quite possibly.’
    â€˜And what of the Duke of Midhurst, the young man she was with that evening?’
    The