Free Deadly Descent by Charles O'Brien

adjusting to an uncomfortable issue. He explained the conviction in Islington had been set aside and Hammer deprived of his commission. But Roach and his men were still moving about, “slippery as eels and dangerous as sharks.” He grimaced. “Very unpleasant business.”
    Saint-Martin doggedly pursued the issue. “Has Roach threatened her recently?”
    â€œNo,” replied Barnstaple. “I would expect him to wait until a half-year or so has passed, hoping that Miss Cartier, and those who care for her, will relax their vigilance. You can be sure Roach has not forgotten! She felled him twice; he hasn’t evened the score yet.” His lips twisted with irony. “Now would be the right time, let us say, for Miss Cartier to suffer a serious, or even fatal accident. It would hardly be noticed. London is such a crowded and violent place.”
    â€œIt might be prudent for Miss Cartier to live abroad for a while,” suggested Saint-Martin, reaching into his pocket for his aunt’s invitation. “She could perhaps become involved in our school for the deaf in Paris. Its director, the priest Charles-Michel, Abbé de l’Épée, has invented a new language for the deaf, trains them for useful occupations. I’m sure Braidwood’s heard of him. Miss Cartier could hone skills to bring back later to England.” As he handed over the letter, he added: “My aunt, Comtesse Marie de Beaumont, could introduce her to the abbé. She’s one of his patrons.”
    The solicitor read the invitation with care, then returned it. “Braidwood might regard Abbé de l’Épée as a rival,” he said cautiously. “Professional jealousy, you know. But, he might also like to learn from Miss Cartier what the abbé is doing for the deaf. Yes, Braidwood would probably write for her.” Fortunately, the solicitor explained, the expense of the trip was within her means. Her grandparents, pleased that she would be safe and decently employed, would also help her.
    The two men then came to an agreement. Saint-Martin would carry a letter from Barnstaple to Miss Cartier, commending the colonel and his proposal. While Saint-Martin whiled away a few minutes with a cup of tea and
The Gentleman’s Magazine
, the solicitor dictated the letter, read it through and signed it. “There you are,” he said as he handed it over to the colonel. “That should persuade her.”
    Barnstaple was indeed a fine fellow! thought Saint-Martin as he left the solicitor’s office, pleased with the accommodation they had reached. But before he had taken more than a few steps into the street, he recalled with a start his next task. He must inform the young lady of Antoine Dubois’ violent death.

Chapter 6
    An Invitation
    Under a cloudless sky, two horsemen rode through the lush green English countryside, singing a popular French tune,
Marlborough se va-t-en guerre
, “Marlborough is on his way to war.” With his right arm Colonel Saint-Martin vigorously beat the tempo as if he were leading the Sun King, Louis XIV’s, army against the great English commander. Charpentier joined in the ghostly chorus,
Il ne se reviendra, il ne se reviendra
, “And he shall not return.”
    The colonel and his adjutant knew that John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, had indeed returned victorious to Britain. But that didn’t matter. They were enjoying the ride to Wimbledon. The colonel’s friends, Gordon and Porter, had lent him a pair of high-spirited thoroughbreds, the finest in their stables.
    It was noon when they drew near the Quaker family’s country house, a large, square brick building sitting solidly on top of a low hill. At the near prospect of meeting Miss Cartier, a flutter of apprehension disturbed Saint-Martin’s high spirits. He began to anticipate the pain she would feel upon hearing the news of her stepfather’s death. How fragile was