Page 30 of Deadly Murder (Angus Brodie and Mikaela Forsythe Murder Mystery #14)

As before, I explained that we were looking for information about the man who was vicar in the early months of 1861, and the name we found in the church records

She nodded. “That would be the Reverend Chastain, and a dreadful time for the parish with the scandal that involved those boys from the university.”

Historian indeed, I thought. “What can you tell us about that?”

“It involved several well-placed young men, very nearly got themselves dismissed,” she added with a nod. “There were four of them, called themselves…”

“The Four Horsemen,” I provided.

“That was it! Some sort of biblical reference, caused quite a stir at the time. But not nearly as much as the scandal over that poor girl, the vicar’s daughter, no less. Mary was her name.

“Not that I was surprised,” she said with a knowing look. “She was a wild young thing, the mother passed on. But the worst of it was that night at the Rose and Crown, the tavern at the other end of the village near the university.

“Those young men closed the tavern down, some twenty odd of them, including the young prince. It was said the girl was there as well. As I said, wild, if you get my meanin’.

“There was all sorts of gossip that went on that night, and His Highness was removed from the university shortly afterward by his father. It was said that he was sent out of the country to protect him against any scandal.

“It was a short while after that Mr. Chastain put in a request to end his term so that he could leave with the girl. The bishop agreed, and they were gone shortly after. I felt sorry for them both. Mr. Jewett came in after, a good man, bless his soul.”

“Do you know where Mr. Chastain and his daughter might have gone?”

“St. Pancras Old Church at Camden, according to Emma Mayhew. Her sister was housekeeper at the rectory there for some time, though I’m certain she has passed on now. She was older than me.” She cackled with laughter. “If you can imagine.”

We now had more information than when we arrived—a name and where the vicar had gone at the time. No doubt to avoid a scandal that the bishop at the time hoped to avoid.

“What sort of person was the vicar?” I asked. She had spoken a great deal about Mary, but little about her father.

“A good man as well, he doted on the girl. Did his best, I suppose, to raise her without the mother about. Not an easy task, as I well know.”

“Was there any mention about either of them after they left?”

“It all quieted down afterward. Mr. Jewett, who came in after, was a single man and did not tolerate gossip that involved the church.”

We stood to leave.

“I appreciate the visit. You will be taking the train back to London then?” she commented.

“It’s a short walk from here to the village,” she added. “I go two, sometimes three, times a week to market. Though the weather is fixing to set in.”

I thanked her for the tea as Lily said good-bye to Otis.

“She walks there two or three times a week?” Lily commented as we left. “She reminds me of Lady Montgomery.”

We reached the rail station in good time and purchased luncheon at a restaurant as we warmed ourselves and waited for the afternoon train.

On the return to London, Lily made notes.

We had learned a great deal, yet as with past inquiry cases, it raised an entirely new set of questions.

Was the Reverend Chastain still in London? Had he retired from the church and perhaps moved elsewhere? What had happened to Mary Chastain?

We arrived late afternoon back in London and found a driver to make the trip to the office on The Strand.

Mr. Cavendish informed us that Brodie had left earlier for the meeting with the Prince of Wales at Marlborough House. He then handed an envelope to me.

“This arrived this morning by courier.”

The envelope was the usual envelope used by the courier services around the city. Inside was another envelope, of the sort used as personal stationery. A note was written across the front of the envelope.

“I found this in my husband’s desk .” And the initials, A.W .

I opened the inside envelope. It was from Lady Walsingham.

A note was enclosed. It was smudged with dirt but still legible.

“ The sins of the fathers shall be visited upon the sons”

And below that, another cryptic message:

“ And then there were three”

With that cryptic message resembling the other notes that had been left on the bodies of two young men, it had obviously been found on Lady Walsingham’s son the day of the accident.

From the note she had written on the outside of the envelope, it appeared that she had searched for it after we met.

And it seemed that the son of Sir Walsingham, one of those four young men years before, had been the first victim, followed then by the deaths of two more—the son of Lord Salisbery, and the death only days earlier of the son of Sir Huntingdon.

Three.

I thought of what had started our search, something my great aunt mentioned in passing that had disappeared from any mention in the dailies at the time, or any time afterward.

They had called themselves the Four Horsemen, those four sons of privilege, and the sort of foolish things those young men did.

Foolishness, we had learned, that had led to the compromise of a young woman and the threat of scandal.

That young woman, Mary Chastain, had left Grantchester and the scandal along with her father.

Now, after more than thirty years, the sons of three of those foolish young men were dead. With perhaps a fourth son to meet the same fate?

A father’s vengeance after all this time?

“What is to be done now?” Lily asked as I sat at the desk while we waited for Brodie to return from his meeting with Prince Edward.