Death and the Black Pyramid Read Free Page B

found himself in company with Cuthbert Simms, while Mrs Silverwood doubled up with young Jemima and Paulina Gower. Lucinda and Jemima were informed that they would have to share a bed but they took this news cheerfully enough. The Black Pyramid – pleased as punch that he had got rid of the German woman, whose name turned out to be Fraulein Schmitt – took a bottle of brandy to the room he was allocated with Nathaniel Broome. That left the peculiar Mr Gorringe who, yet again, seemed to be paired with Martin Meadows.
    John, remembering his previous visits to Bath and the many adventures he had had in that city, went to bed late. It seemed to him, sitting alone in a snug with a bottle of wine before he retired, that the ghosts of the past came back to haunt him. He saw Coralie as she once had been – young and fresh, vigorous and full of life, longing to taste it all, eager to build her reputation on the stage. How bitterly it all had treated her, he thought. And thinking of Coralie brought back memories of himself as a young man, relishing everything and treating the world as a huge plaything. Yet, he considered, there was no point in looking back. The secret of a successful life must surely be the ability to go forward. Then he thought of that great beau, Orlando, a doyen of Bath, who had sacrificed so much in order that others may move on and live in peace.
    John sighed and taking a candle went up to his room and crept inside, careful not to wake Cuthbert who slept like a little child, his breathing light and fast, his small frame barely making a bulge in the bedclothes. Thankful that there were two beds in the chamber, John undressed and climbed in, instantly falling asleep, lulled by the wine.
    He woke some hours later, listening intently, certain that he had heard a voice. Then quite distinctly somebody close to him said, ‘Take care, Fulke Bassett, take great care.’ This remark was followed by a laugh, so sinister that it made the Apothecary’s blood run cold. Reaching for the candle John struck a tinder and lit it. He looked round. The room was empty, other than for the sleeping Cuthbert Simms, who had turned over and was facing the wall. After several minutes spent sitting up in bed, gazing around him, John blew the candle out and tried to sleep. But this time it did not come easily and he lay awake in the darkness, wondering whether he had dreamt the entire incident or whether a voice had actually spoken those strange words and laughed that terrible laugh.
    They set off early the next morning, before breakfast – much to the Apothecary’s chagrin – heading for Wells. Arriving there some three hours later they had a thirty minute stop and time to settle down to some serious eating. John found himself seated next to Cuthbert and felt tempted to mention to him the strange event of the previous night. Eventually he did so.
    â€˜Did you sleep well, Mr Simms? I did not disturb you when I came to bed?’
    Cuthbert turned on him a jovial little face. ‘Not at all, my dear chap, to answer your second question. As to the first, I slept soundly, though I dreamt rather a great deal.’
    â€˜Oh really? What about?’
    Simms gave a piping laugh. ‘Dashed if I can remember. By the way, did I tell you that I am heading for Lady Sidmouth’s place, just outside Exeter? I was attached to her household some years ago, but only for a short while.’
    â€˜No, you didn’t. May I ask the purpose of your visit?’
    â€˜Indeed you may. She has engaged me professionally, don’t you know, based on her past experience of my work. I am attempting to teach the dance to her grandchildren, one of whom is a great lumpkin of a fellow – or so I am told.’
    â€˜I am sure you will manage splendidly,’ John replied gallantly. He paused, then said, ‘Tell me, did you hear anyone speaking in the night?’
    Cuthbert gazed at him blankly. ‘Speaking? What