“Now,” Mr. Smith went on, “here is where the story begins to be a little grimmer. Little Roddy was still angry with the Covent Garden abbess.”
“I really wish he wouldn’t use that term,” Sister Agatha muttered.
Mother Sarah patted her hand. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It is just a word and cannot harm anyone.”
Sister Agatha grumbled something beneath her breath.
“Because he was still angry, or perhaps because it was fun, he started luring working girls away from their protectors, using them roughly and leaving them either dead or dying on the streets. He got away with this for several years because the Duke would visit London during the season, then he would go home. So Roddy got his fun, and was off and away back to Scotland before anyone noticed. But then he graduated from the ladies who were selling their favors to housemaids, but he still left their bodies on the old abbess’s doorstep.”
“I started investigating,” Mr. Smith added, “when a sister of a dear friend was found dead in the rookery.”
Jonathan looked grim, but added his own bit. “Then circumstances combined to limit my ready cash, and I elected to skip a season. With no outlet in sight, he started to prey on the young women in my employ.
Inspector Ravensgard added, “Mr. Smith had visited me not long before I received a letter from Constable McHenry, inviting me to look around and see what I could learn. I had no real expectation of finding Mr. Smith’s culprit. But the two incidents with the Lolly Mire just seemed too coincidental.”
“But the howling,” Margery asked, intrigued in spite of her own predicament. “What about the howling?”
“That was puzzling,” the Inspector admitted. “I wasn’t sure what was causing it, until one of the potboys recently overheard Roderick boasting to his mother how he had disposed of the ringleader, a man the others simply called the Revolutionary.”
“Oddly, when he went on up to the tower, all of the men were gone, and so were all the medicinal plants they had stolen, and the fake money stamp.”
“What had happened to them?” Celeste asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“That was where I came in,” said a new voice. A small man, wearing a dark cloak stood in the doorway of the solar. When he threw the cloak back over his shoulder, it was revealed that he was wearing a military uniform. His head was topped with the most astonishing piece of headgear, knitted in colorful stripes, with a large tassel on the end. A large dog that looked like a shaggy gray wolf was by his side. “Speak, Sheena,” the man directed.
The large dog sat on her haunches, pointed her muzzle at the ceiling and let out a long mournful cry. Then she lowered her muzzle, looked around the assemble company, and let her tongue loll out the side of her mouth in a doggy grin.
“It was just our luck that the band of revolutionaries decided to try their hand at counterfeiting in this area. We had suspected that one was operating up here in the hills for some time. For a while we thought perhaps the Duke might be involved.”
“Me?” Jonathan burst out.
“We quickly learned that it wasn’t you, Your Grace, even before you were poisoned. We are sorry about that. If we had moved more quickly, perhaps we might have been able to prevent it.”
“The reason Warner couldn’t find the band of men was because we had apprehended all of them except the leader a few hours before that. Warner thought that the man the others called the Revolutionary was trying to take over the castle and lands that he had come to think of as his own.”
“Perhaps if I had been more observant, I could have kept some of this from happening.”
“Perhaps the military gentleman would like to introduce himself?” suggested Mr. Hammonds.
“I am remiss,” said Parson Graves. “Everyone, please meet Lieutenant Renald Graves, my nephew. He was on the continent for some time with his regiment. It is our good fortune that he was able to apprehend the miscreants before they put the rest of their plan into action.”
“Which was?” asked the Duke.
“David Hammonds was a test cast to see if it would work. They planned to baste counterfeit coins with arsenic and wolfsbane and use them to purchase goods in the village. They would slowly poison everyone, then they would use Gwyndonmere Valley as a staging area to invade England.”
Jonathan considered this for a moment. “Aren’t we rather far from the border for that to work?”
Lieutenant Graves smiled, flashing a rather adorable dimple. “I think I said they were miscreants, not geniuses. I rather think their plan would have backfired sooner rather than later, but a great many people could have been hurt in the meantime.”
“And all the items that were stolen?” Gran’ther Tim asked. “Those aren’t things to just leave lying about.”
“As it happens, I could not agree more,” the military man said. “Therefore I have two large crates out here which I would like to return to someone. I seriously considered confiscating part of it for military use, then decided it would be better to tax you a portion of the refined products.”
“An excellent decision,” Jonathan said quietly. “If our medicines can be of assistance, we will be glad to help. I do hope no one tried to handle the stuff.”
“One lad got a numb hand out of it before our surgeons realized what it was. The counterfeit coins we will melt down, although some of them are rather clever.”
“Oh?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at the young man.
