An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell #6)(74)

Astonishment flickered in his eyes before he dropped his gaze. “I do not know what you mean, Fraulein. Gisela barely knew the woman.”

“They were lovers,” Stoker said. “We have seen evidence. A sketch in Alice’s own hand.”

Maximilian groaned. “I beg you, do not share this information. Whatever you think of me, and I understand it is very little, believe me when I tell you that Gisela does not deserve to be ruined for this.”

“We have no intention of ruining your princess,” I told him firmly. “Her private affections are none of our concern. But her whereabouts and Alice Baker-Greene’s murder are.”

He leveled his gaze at me. “Alice Baker-Greene fell off the Teufelstreppe.”

“After her rope was cut,” Stoker put in. “Furthermore, you know that is what happened because why else go to the Curiosity Club and steal the rope if not to remove evidence of the crime?”

He was silent a long moment. “I think I am tired now,” he said. “And this interview is at an end.”

“Did you cut that rope?” I demanded. “Did you kill Alice to eliminate your rival for Gisela’s affections? She was the obstacle to your marriage, was she not? Murdering her would have opened the way for you. Did you take it?”

“I did not,” he said, clipping the words sharply. “She was my friend. And whatever you think of me, I am no murderer.”

“But you might be an accomplice,” Stoker suggested.

The duke shied in his chair. “What do you mean?”

“He means that you and Gisela stole the rope from the club—rope that proves Alice was murdered. You helped her do it and you helped her get out of London,” I said.

He gaped at me. “You think Gisela killed her? For what reason?”

“I met Alice several months before her death,” I told him. “She was incandescently happy. She told me about moving to the Alpenwald, how she meant to make her permanent home there. And she was a very strong woman. If Gisela had wanted to break things off with her, turn her out of the Alpenwald, Alice would not have gone quietly. She would have stood her ground and made it impossible for you and Gisela to have married and begun a life together. Would that have been a happy life, do you think? Hochstadt is a very small city. You would have constantly seen Alice—a ghost of Gisela’s former life—and a liability if she ever chose to share her damnable story. You would never have been secure, not until she died.”

He listened in rapt attention, then burst out laughing until he wiped his eyes. “Oh, Fraulein. Whatever becomes of us all, I do hope you will take to writing stories. You have a prodigious imagination.”

He poured another glass of brandy and it was clear he intended to say no more. Before we left, I tried one final tack.

“Where did Gisela go that night?” I asked.

For a long minute, I thought he would refuse to answer, but at last he replied. “She did not tell me, I swear it.”

“I almost believe you,” Stoker told him.

Duke Maximilian hesitated, then reached into his pocket.

“Here, this is all that I know of her intentions—a railway timetable.”

Stoker took the timetable from the duke. It was a little grubby and marked with a pencil.

He traced the penciled line with a finger. It highlighted a train leaving late that evening from St. Pancras.

“Nothing more specific?” I asked.

The duke shook his head. “No. Make of that what you will.”

Stoker scoured the rest of the timetable. “We know from this that she must have been heading north, so that lets out Bristol or Southampton or the Continent, unless she meant to double back. If she were traveling directly, then she might have gone to Liverpool or Edinburgh.”

“From Edinburgh she might have traveled back to the Continent,” I surmised. “And from Liverpool, Ireland or even America.”

I turned to the duke.

“Why not show this to the chancellor or the baroness?” I asked. “It at least confirms that she was not abducted, and you might have saved them some worry.”

“I gave Gisela my word, Fraulein,” he said, picking up the empty glass and staring into it. “She wanted no one to know where she went, and that is why she would not even tell me where she was bound. Take that to the chancellor and the baroness if you must, but it will accomplish nothing except anger them because I did not convey it myself. That is in no one’s best interests.”

Stoker tucked the timetable into his pocket. “There is no reason they need to know just yet. In fact, not having to worry about such an occurrence will free you to see to it that Miss Speedwell has all the support she requires this evening and makes a success of it.”

The threat was unmistakable. Stoker was holding on to the timetable as insurance that Duke Maximilian would render me whatever aid he could during the course of the banquet and signing ceremony.

The duke gave him a grudging nod and smiled, a flicker of his usual insouciance playing about his mouth. “A worthy adversary, Templeton-Vane. I might duel you yet.”

“I look forward to it,” Stoker said, holding his gaze for a long moment. “Did the princess give you any indication of how long she meant to be away?”

The duke shrugged. “She said only that she had something she must do and that I would have to trust her. And she promised to announce the betrothal upon her return.”