Page 57 of The Shadow Key

Without a word Henry squeezes past, and it is only when he stops to stand at Julian’s gun cabinet that Linette realises what he is about.

‘No one here shot at you.’

She comes to stand next to him where he is staring at the pistol behind the glass in consternation.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because my servants would never do such a thing.’

He throws her a frustrated look. ‘And I ask again, how do you know?’

Before she can reply Cadoc Powell appears at the door, carrying an empty decanter between both gloved hands. The butler stops when he sees them, ducks his head in acknowledgement, his stiff wig making him look like a stern judge.

‘Miss Linette. Dr Talbot. Might I be of assistance?’

Linette and Henry share a glance.

‘I wanted to look at the flintlock,’ Henry says, and one of Cadoc’s bushy eyebrows quirks.

‘To what purpose?’

‘I wished to hold it, that’s all.’

There is a pause. The butler looks to Linette for permission and grudgingly, she nods her assent. Cadoc crosses the room, places the decanter on a silver tray set upon the marquetry table beside Julian’s armchair. Then he removes a chain from within his waistcoat, from which in turn dangles a set of keys which unlock the cabinets that hold the Cadwalladr heirlooms.

Cadoc selects a tiny brass key from the chain, inserts it into the cabinet’s minuscule lock. Carefully he removes the pistol, places it into Henry’s waiting hands. Linette watches him admire the barrel’s inlay of tortoiseshell. It is a beautiful thing, more a decorative piece, not suited for hunting at all. Linette cannot understand why he should think this was the gun which had been used.

‘How do you load it?’

Cadoc frowns, looks to her. Linette shrugs.

‘Show him.’

The butler takes the flintlock back from Henry, turns it over. He does not seem to know how to open the barrel, is frowning in concentration, but then he pushes his thumb against a curved node at the top, something clicks, a canister opens, and five bullets roll into the butler’s gloved hand.

For a moment Henry does not speak. Is he relieved? Disappointed? From the blank expression on his face, Linette cannot tell.

‘Thank you,’ Henry says faintly. ‘That’s all I wanted to see.’

There is a pause in which Cadoc stares at him. Then the butler neatly reloads the pistol, returns it to the cabinet, turns the key.

‘If that will be all, Miss Linette?’

‘Yes, Cadoc. That will be all.’

The butler looks between them. She cannot read the expression on his face, either, but she can feel the force of Cadoc’s disapproval coming off him in waves.

‘Very good.’

He stares at them each in turn one final time before leaving the room. It is only when the heavy door swings shut behind him that Linette turns to Henry.

‘Would you mind telling me what that achieved?’

‘The shot was fired from a pistol,’ he says, eyes fierce. ‘One that would be fired at close range. A flintlock.’

‘How can you know that?’

‘I know bullets. I used to remove them regularly in my line of work. I recognise a flintlock ball when I see one. Still,’ he says, begrudging. ‘Flintlocks only carry five bullets.’

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