Page 4 of A Fearless Heart
Aries glanced at Chattan, who said, “The killer left a sign. At each location one of these was found.”
Julian tossed several calling cards on the table. Gabe picked one up and examined the image on the top: a black-ink engraving of multiple flowers.
“What are these pictures of?”
Chattan read off from a paper, “Belladonna, foxglove, and oleander.” She looked up. “All famous for being deadly.”
“Read the back,” Julian suggested.
He flipped over one card and read aloud, “Et in Arcadia ego. My Latin is rusty…And in Arcadia I am?”
“It’s usually translated as ‘Even in Arcadia, I am here,’” Julian said. “TheIis understood to refer to Death. The meaning is that even in Paradise, Death is inevitable.”
“So it’s a memento mori. I guess that’s fitting to put by a dead body. Though no one would mistake London for any kind of paradise.”
Chattan gathered the cards again. “I get the impression that the killer has a personal stake in this.”
Julian lifted a warning hand, saying, “Whereas I suspect it’s just nonsense designed to make usthinkthere’s a personal reason. The victims are all involved in politics. These killings must be politically motivated, just more violent than the usual methods.”
“Why not both?” Gabe asked, thinking as he spoke. “It could be someone’s own vendetta against some politicians who have done something they dislike. The victims…are they of the same party? Or have they all voted the same way on a particular issue?”
Chattan was already shaking her head. “It’s a good thought, but we’ve analyzed those possibilities already. Whigs, Tories… The politics of the victims don’t align very well, and in fact a couple of the victims weren’t exactly what you’d call active on any issue.”
She picked up a slim leather portfolio. “There’s not much evidence so far, but we have one lead: Calderwood.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells,” Gabe admitted. “What is that?”
“A name,” Julian said. “Scrawled on a scrap of paper by the last victim, apparently just before he died. Chattan has compiled a list of possibilities.”
The woman handed the portfolio over to Gabe. “There’s an estate called Calderwood in Kent, the seat of the Earls of Calder—the Osbourne family. Very famous for its gardens, and in Kent, that’s saying something. The last Lord Calder passed away in the autumn of last year, but apparently it’s the daughter who’s most involved with the gardens and such.” Chattan took a breath, then added, “Her name is Lady Arcadia Beatrice Osbourne.”
Gabe picked up the card again, reading the memento mori with more gravity this time:Et in Arcadia ego.“Interesting,” he said softly.
“Yes, exactly,” Julian agreed. “Personally, I’d start there. Our research shows that previous generations developed extensive gardens, and imported a large number of plants. In your portfolio, there are some journal articles Lady Arcadia has written, usually under the name of A. B. Osbourne. She is apparently something of an amateur genius in the field of chemistry. Could be that not all the plants at Calderwood are beneficial to mankind. Oh, and by the way, there are rumors that the late Lord Calder died rather unexpectedly—make of that what you will. All the information I could gather about the poisonings, that estate, and the people who live on it is in here. Read it, memorize it, then destroy it.”
Gabe nodded. He’d never leave evidence lying around. He prided himself on being efficient and reliable. A good agent was a ghost. Once done with an assignment, he left nothing behind.
Julian leaned forward, suddenly looking deadly serious and very much the spymaster of the Zodiac. “Your assignment is to identify the poison used, track down who makes it, and find out if they are merely selling the poison to someone else, or if they are the culprit behind all these deaths.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Because of the number of deaths already, you have no restrictions,” Julian said. “However you choose to infiltrate the place, whatever you decide as to procuring the information, do as you see fit. I want regular reports sent here—even if you’ve nothing to report. And don’t hesitate to request assistance if you need it. Money or manpower…we’ll see that you get it.”
“I’ll start tomorrow,” Gabe promised, then added, “If I may say, sir, I’m surprised you haven’t already assigned an agent to this case. I know that there’s always more work than people to do it, but still…this has been going on for months.”
“You’re not the first agent,” Julian said quietly, and that was when Gabe noticed the unusual tightness about his superior’s eyes.
Gabe went still. “No?”
“The last victim on the list, Lewelleyn Parrish, used the sign of Pisces. He’s the one responsible for discovering all that we do know, and that effort took him weeks. But just when he thought he’d made a breakthrough, he stopped reporting in. Two days later his body was found, with only that one word to direct us to the next step.”
“The killer knows about the Zodiac?” Gabe asked.
Chattan shook her head. “We have no evidence of that. Pisces was a very careful, even paranoid man. He’d never have mentioned it. But I do believe that he was getting close to the killer, and that’s why he was poisoned, even though he didn’t fit the previous pattern of the victims being influential men. But the important fact remains: whoever is behind this…they are attackingus.”
Something deep inside Gabe stirred. He’d been a soldier, he’d known what it was like to lose comrades in the heat of battle. This was different. Worse. So he said, “Well, can’t have that, sir. I’ll take care of it. Whoever is at the root of this will very much regret it.”
Chapter 3
