The Diamond Hunter Read online

  ‘I suggest Sirius goes into your bank vault immediately, Mr Grant,’ Sammy Izak offered, with a glance at Clem that said she really must lay claim to the stones and not allow her uncle to retain them.

  ‘We shall go directly from here,’ he said, escorting Clementine to the door, his glare forcing Reuben’s son to step aside. ‘I can fetch my things myself, Ben. Good afternoon, gentlemen.’

  And that was it. Even Clementine, who had helped him to wriggle free from the grip of the law, shook her head in wonder as Uncle Reggie walked her down the alley, diamonds in his top hat, and past Ye Olde Mitre with a bounce in his step.

  ‘I’m sorry you had to go through that, Clem,’ he said, finally finding his contrition. ‘And I want to —’

  ‘Clementine, wait!’ It was Will, striding to catch up with them.

  Uncle Reggie turned first. ‘I’m not sure my niece wishes to speak with you right now, Will,’ he said, keeping his tone polite.

  ‘I was talking to Clementine, Reggie, not you.’

  ‘Not here, Will,’ she said, casting a glance around them. ‘Uncle Reg, could you give me a moment with Will, please?’

  ‘I’ll fetch us a hackney,’ he said, cutting Will a disdainful glare before stepping away to hail a cab.

  ‘Clem, are you serious?’ Will asked, dumbfounded.

  ‘I have no intention of letting my uncle be marched off to Bow Street. How do you imagine that would help me or our family name?’

  His lips thinned with the effort of suppressing his exasperation, but she knew he understood the need to protect one’s reputation at all costs.

  ‘I would prefer to deal with this situation on my own terms, and not the public humiliation that was unfolding back there.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean this isn’t going away just yet, is it? You’ve clearly got more up your sleeve, so let’s deal with it all.’

  ‘Clementine?’ Her uncle beckoned, holding the open door of a hackney cab.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to keep to yourself whatever it is you’re fighting to hold back and bring it to the house. If you tell another soul before you tell me, I shall never wish to look upon you again. Your name will no longer exist in my world.’

  She let all of the jagged angles of her threat pierce him.

  Will cleared his throat. ‘I shall come to the house shortly.’

  She nodded, her expression stormy. ‘Good afternoon, Will,’ she said and turned away from him.

  32

  As she stepped from the pavement onto the carriage, Clementine made a decision that no man would ever manipulate her again. She would take full control of her life and her future.

  ‘Uncle Reggie, I know you were preparing to make an apology to me back there, but I don’t wish to hear it.’

  He looked surprised by her tone but not shocked. ‘You know I did this for you, though?’

  ‘Do I?’ Her tone was hard and slightly mocking.

  The cab felt small and airless. She wasn’t sure where this was going but she could feel the frustration simmering, desperate to spill over. They’d only just avoided handcuffs and morning newspaper headlines because Will had kept quiet, but this explosive information was still waiting to blow up. She couldn’t believe where he was leading her, but now that he’d said it, she had to know – had to get to the truth of it.

  ‘Clementine,’ Reggie said, appealing to her. ‘Have I ever done anything to hurt you?’

  ‘Not physically, no, but clearly you have lied.’

  ‘Is not telling the whole truth the same as lying – especially when it’s done to protect someone you love?’

  ‘No, Uncle Reggie, your semantic distinctions will not work this time.’

  He nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ve failed you,’ he said, adroitly shifting the conversation. Suddenly he was a martyr, lifting his chin, revealing his neck so she could deliver a killing slash if she chose. ‘How can I make this right between us?’

  ‘I’m angry, can you tell? So please just allow me some time to calm down. Will Axford is coming to the house.’

  ‘Surely he can wait to see you?’

  ‘It’s not a social call, Uncle Reggie.’

  She left it at that and so did he, no doubt spending the rest of the journey pondering what she might mean. Clementine was prepared for him to stew on it while she arranged her own thoughts before a new onslaught of allegations.

  Will arrived when they’d been home for just over an hour, giving Clementine time to cool her face with a damp flannel and to change out of her suit of scarlet velvet. Her pale pink silk and organza dress suited the late afternoon, which already felt like evening; the light was fading by four-thirty now.

  ‘You look very pretty.’ One of her favourite maids had travelled down from Northumberland, as Clem had known this would be a longer stay than usual. ‘Would you like me to re-dress your hair?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She sighed. ‘A loose chignon, please, Edith. I get a headache with that tighter bun.’

  ‘I’m guessing Mr Axford likes your hair looser.’

  She snapped her maid a look of warning. ‘I’m not dressing for him.’

  Edith stared back at her in the mirror, barely flinching. ‘Even so, you mentioned he is coming over tonight, and looking pretty takes little more effort. Have you two had words?’

  ‘More than that. I don’t believe we’re as compatible as I’d thought.’

  The maid knew when to hold her tongue.

  Clementine joined her uncle in the main salon, where a fire had been warming the room for hours. Reggie had clearly spent the past hour in here, pondering his future. There was no cigar burning, and the glass he was sipping from was modestly filled.

  ‘You look lovely,’ he said, standing to welcome her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She allowed him to kiss her cheek but kept it polite and disant.

  ‘Sherry?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  He watched her. ‘I’ve never felt so awkward with you in all our years.’ They heard a distant rapping at the door.

  ‘I’ve never had cause to doubt you in that time.’

  ‘Clem, what is going on?’

  She was saved from having to reply by the sound of the housekeeper and a light tap as she entered their room. ‘Excuse me, sir, Miss Grant. Mr Axford has arrived.’

  Clem stood. ‘Thank you, Mrs Johnson. Show him in, please, and then no further interruptions.’

  The woman withdrew.

  ‘That sounds ominous,’ Reggie said. ‘I’m not at all used to you being cold and secretive.’

  ‘Neither am I, Uncle Reg.’ She turned to await Will, who stepped into the room a few heartbeats later. She knew how many because her heart was suddenly pounding so hard that she could count its rhythm. ‘Good evening, Will.’

  ‘Clementine, Reggie.’ He gave a nod to each.

  ‘Drink to warm you up, Will? Clementine won’t share a sherry with me,’ Reggie said.

  ‘I won’t either, Reggie. Forgive me, I need a clear head.’

  ‘Right, well, this is all very melodramatic and clandestine, so why don’t we get it over with, whatever this great secret is?’ Reggie drained his small glass. His tone had an edge to it now.

  ‘Uncle Reg, Will does have something to share with us. I am not yet privy to it, but what he has alluded to sounded so damaging that I couldn’t risk it being brought out into the open in public. I am beyond grateful to Will for keeping what he has to say private so that we can deal with it between us.’

  ‘Good heavens. Now even I’m intrigued. Go on then, Will. What is this life-changing revelation?’

  Clem wished he didn’t sound so cocky.

  ‘The floor is yours, Will.’

  Will moved closer to Clem but she immediately shifted to an armchair, not wishing to be part of the allegation. She looked up at Will expectantly, knowing he would have felt the snub. She didn’t care right now for anyone’s feelings.
Her life was being unravelled and in the next few minutes she had to focus on protecting herself.

  It was as though the wind had changed: the ripples of the past had reversed their direction to flow back in time. She wished suddenly she could leave the past as it was, allow history to keep its secrets, but Africa clearly wanted her back.

  ‘Reggie,’ Will began. ‘I won’t dance around this.’

  Reggie shrugged to show he didn’t care either way.

  ‘I have a deep concern that you played a part in the death of James Knight.’

  Clem closed her eyes for a second, to blot out this scene momentarily; her dread was complete. Will would not make such a statement without proof. When she opened her eyes, she saw that her uncle had snapped forward in his chair.

  ‘How dare you! What kind of accusation is that?’

  Will’s calm expression was unchanged. ‘One that will finally reveal the extent of your lies to the person who deserves the truth.’

  ‘Get out!’ Reggie yelled, leaping to his feet and pointing at the door. ‘Don’t you ever think to cross this threshold again. And as for courting my —’

  ‘Answer him, Uncle Reg.’ Clem didn’t raise her voice but her words penetrated his bluster, and for just a few of her heavy heartbeats it felt like time wanted to stop. Both men stared at her and she met their gazes, unblinking. No amount of pretty hair or pale pink organza and silk could take away the ugliness of what was occurring now.

  ‘Clem, do you really expect me to give this accusation any credence? I’ll toss this whippersnapper out on his ear.’

  ‘You can try,’ said Will threateningly.

  ‘Be quiet, both of you. Uncle Reg, I do expect you to take the allegation seriously. Will clearly does, which suggests he has evidence to support it.’

  She watched his face blanch. ‘Evidence?’ he hissed.

  ‘Humour me. Walk us through your memory of my father’s accident.’

  With fury, Reggie flicked his dinner coat, hitched his trousers and returned to his seat. He took the time to pour himself another glass of sherry. Will stood motionless near the fire; she was aware his gaze fell only on her and she studiously ignored it.

  Finally, Reggie cleared his throat. ‘I’m doing this for you, Clem, not because I feel the need to clear my name with Axford here.’

  She lifted her eyes to her uncle and waited.

  He recounted that terrible night for them.

  ‘And then he shoved me, Clem. It was the violent act of a man out of control, out of his mind with liquor and his sorrows but —’ Reggie shook a fist as though trying to touch that moment again — ‘there was something else that I couldn’t guess. I think it was glee. He was excited, and it was that excitement that was fuelling his drunkenness. He wouldn’t listen when I said I’d come in peace to bring you both back to England and to help you start a new life. As I say, the combination of fury, alcohol and fear turned to violence that moved beyond his control.’

  ‘So he shoved you,’ she said, dismissing his interpretation of her father’s mental state. Uncle Reggie couldn’t possibly know what her father had felt. No one could. Her father had been an enigma at best – she understood that now. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Well, I shoved him back. I had to defend myself – he was threatening to kill me.’

  ‘Kill you? My father? I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘You weren’t there, darling. There was rage and violence – the man was losing his wits.’

  She sensed Will was about to drop his bombshell but she stopped him with a glance and a brief raising of her hand. ‘All right, you shoved him in return – and what happened after that?’

  Reggie flung his hands wide with despair. ‘Well, as I recall, he weaved around and threatened me again and seemed to find new depths of rage. He was already close to the edge of that monstrous hole.’

  ‘Did you suggest he take care?’

  ‘Of course I did! What do you think I am? But your father had lost his mind.’

  This did not gel with the person she recalled spending the day with. He had been filled with excitement, yes – excitement about their future; it had been a happy day. He’d got drunk that night out of joy, not to dampen his sorrows. ‘And so are we to gather he slipped?’ she continued.

  ‘Well, the ground actually gave way at the edge and he toppled into the Big Hole. He fell to his death.’

  ‘And that’s all you know?’

  ‘There is nothing else to know. He died then and there from the fall. I went straight back to the Kimberley Club and reported it – the rest is in the police records, I’m sure.’

  ‘All right. Good. Now it’s Will’s turn to speak.’

  Will doggedly pressed on. ‘I’m going to read to you from a letter that was transcribed via telephone a few days ago. I was the scribe and what I wrote down has been verified by my father, who listened to the call as well. I will show you his signature in a moment. At the other end, the telephone conversation was witnessed by the registrar of the hospital at Kimberley, a man highly respected by all in the community.’

  The atmosphere in the room was so brittle that it felt crisp – to Clem it seemed it could break with the slightest pressure, like a strand of spun sugar. In a tense silence they watched Will withdraw a sheet of paper from his inside jacket pocket and unfold it.

  He took a slow breath and began.

  ‘Greetings, Miss Clementine. I am sure you have thought me dead after all of these years. I have not wished to interrupt the good life you have made far away from Africa.’

  Will glanced at her and she was frowning, waiting for a clue of who was behind this letter. ‘But I re-enter it now because I am being pursued for the truth of the night your father and my best friend died.’

  Her throat tightened. ‘Joseph,’ she whispered, her voice dry and tiny. ‘He’s alive?’ It was half question, half accusation, but it was all relief. It was like balm to scorched skin, water to the parched, nourishment to the starved, a reprieve to the doomed. It was deliverance from private despair in just these opening lines. She covered her mouth with her fingertips to let no further shocked sounds escape.

  Will continued. ‘I witnessed what happened between Mr Grant and Mr James. I had put you to bed and went looking for your father. I found him walking, arguing with his brother-in-law, whom I recognised from earlier that day. Mr Grant was following Mr James. Your father tried to hurry but he had been drinking and was staggering. He led Mr Grant to the deepest side of the Big Hole, away from the town’s light. You used to laugh that I could not be seen there because I disappeared into the darkness of the night.’

  Clem had no control over the streaming tears now, but she pressed her hand tighter against her mouth so as not to let herself down by sounding like a hysterical woman. The sobs of relief she trapped in her chest. She would not let them hear her anguish that Joseph was talking to her, which meant he was alive and she was no longer hunting a ghost. The rage that she had been lied to diminished for now. Her mind was bubbling with the impossible joy that Joseph One-Shoe was not dust like her parents.

  ‘Your uncle wanted you both to journey back to England with him. He offered to help. Mr James refused and told him that he had his own means now. Your father became aggressive and poked, then pushed Mr Grant, who finally shoved him, and your father fell backwards into the pit.’

  ‘There you are!’ Reggie hurled himself from his seat, emanating waves of affront. ‘How is this any different to what I have said?’

  ‘Wait,’ Will said softly. He continued. ‘Mr Grant knelt at the edge and lit a match to see into the pit. He stared into it before looking around. It seemed that he was trying to make a decision.’

  Reggie began spluttering threats. ‘That’s pure fancy —’

  ‘Be quiet, Uncle. Hear it out!’ There was thunder in his expression and he levelled at her now. She no longer cared. ‘Finish it, Will!’ she ordered.

  ‘After Mr Grant had left, which he did at great speed, hurryi
ng down towards the town, I immediately climbed into the pit because I could hear Mr James calling to his brother-in-law. I have no doubt that your uncle could too.

  ‘I lifted Mr James onto my shoulders and carried him up from the mine to the surface, which took a while because I had to find a ladder. It was too late to call for help. He died in my arms. His last words were about you: how much he adored you, that you were so much like your mother he found it hard to look upon you sometimes, and yet you were his only reason for living, and that you deserved more than he had given you. It was because of his dying words, Miss Clementine, that I didn’t say anything about your uncle to the police. I want you to know my silence was not because Mr Grant threatened me later in the police house, but only because I wanted your father’s hopes to be carried out, and for you to enjoy a better life than this one.

  ‘I suspect this confession will bring you some pain, Miss Clementine, but in time I hope it brings clarity to a situation you could never know the truth about. Clarity means much to me because it also speaks of the diamonds your father and I dug for together, and the stars we used to talk about when you were a little girl. I have not forgotten my oath to you. Like the Dog Star and its companion, I have thought about you every day, Miss Clementine, and followed you in a way you could never know. I hope you have found happiness as you deserve in your life in England.’ Will looked up. ‘I understand he uses his proper name now, Zenzele, but the older locals still know him as Joseph One-Shoe and that’s how he has signed off this letter.’

  Her trembling quietened and she dabbed at her eyes with a small linen handkerchief. ‘You found him.’ She sniffed, amazed that she could rein in all her emotions.

  ‘Through contacts at the Kimberley Club. Yes. He is well liked.’

  ‘Still in Kimberley?’ Her calm voice belied her despair that she had been duped for so long.

  ‘He was. He set up a school for the African children of the miners.’