The Stanforth Secrets Read Online Free Page A

right. When he raised it to his nose, however, there was no aroma.
    He wondered where the connection to himself was to be found, but his years in the army had taught him to wait for his commanders to come to the point.
    He returned the artificial fruit to Lord Liverpool, who then continued. “One piece of the message never arrived, the vital second part of the list of names. From the letter we know the list had been sent by a highly trusted courier who goes by the name of d’Estrelles, a man entitled, in fact, to a more eminent name which was lost, along with large estates, during the Revolution. The letter itself is incomplete, one of the cherries having become dislodged, but it was clear d’Estrelles was to make his way via Bordeaux and Ireland. . . .”
    Now Justin found himself in possession of the letter, carefully pasted onto a piece of board. It was composed of seven ragged-edged rectangles with one rectangle missing three-quarters down the right-hand side. The letter was in French and outlined the nature of the three packages, their disguises and proposed routes. It stressed that all the couriers had complete discretion in altering their itineraries. Fortunately, the missing rectangle did not greatly hinder the understanding of the message. The package sent via Bordeaux was au forme de la pomme —disguised as an apple. At that point the line ended in a jagged tear.
    Amazing luck. One word sooner and they would never have known the disguise used.
    “Was d’Estrelles caught?” Justin asked.
    “We do not know,” said the Earl. “The dispatch of the documents was discovered sooner than expected, and the ports were under surveillance. All the couriers had a great deal of trouble. We do know d’Estrelles made it from Bordeaux to Cork, but with a French warship at his heels. We can only conjecture the rest. He must have decided his chances of making it to England with his package were slight, so he decided on a bold stroke. He set himself up as a decoy, hired a small fishing boat to take him to Wales, and slipped anchor one night. He sent the package another way. He gave it to a sailor, presumably feeling he could trust the man, with instructions to go north to Dublin and take ship there. The man was told to deliver the package to Lord Stanforth at Heysham.”
    “Stephen?” queried Justin in amazement.
    “No. Unfortunately d’Estrelles had been heavily involved in undercover work on the continent for years. He was sadly out of touch. He was sending the package to the first viscount, Stephen’s father, who, as you know, had been involved in a number of matters of foreign affairs. He was a negotiator of the Peace of Amiens in ’02 and d’Estrelles had been there, in a less official capacity. They doubtless became acquainted. In extremis, d’Estrelles would have remembered that Delamere Hall is situated on the coast, a short hop across the Irish Sea.”
    “Remember the first viscount. Remarkable man,” stated the Duke. “He would have handled the matter right.”
    “Assuredly, Sir,” responded Lord Liverpool.
    “The papers were given to Stephen?” hazarded Justin with a puzzled frown.
    “No,” said the Earl bitterly. “He, we can be sure, was the one person who could not have been given them. We don’t know to whom they were passed by the sailor, nor have they ever been seen.”
    “Some damned traitor destroyed them,” barked the Duke with disgust.
    “That is possible, Sir,” said Lord Liverpool. “On the other hand, we have clear evidence that the French are still searching for them. We intercepted a message recently which fiercely enjoined an agent here in London to discover the papers and destroy them, for his own safety as well as the safety of others. Unfortunately, we could not discover for whom that directive was intended, though we destroyed yet another of their message-lines.” He slammed his hand down on the arm of his chair. “We need that list! Even in my own office I cannot be