John Stanton - Agent of the Crown: John Stanton, #1

John Stanton - Agent of the Crown

Volume 1

by Cay Reet

© Copyright 2017 Text: Cay Reet

© Copyright 2017 Cover Design: Holz Vanderhuetten

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems - except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews - without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

In memory of Jeff Zahn and Holz Vanderhuetten

You shall never truly die.

Contents

The Case of the Modern Bluebeard

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

The Case of the Dead Socialite

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

The Case of the Extinct Fish

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

More by the Same Author

The Case of the Modern Bluebeard

One

––––––––

Lord Edmund Stanton tapped his right foot for a moment in order to get attention. We will leave now.

John looked up at his father and two of his four older brothers and gave them a bright smile. Have fun. I’m sure you will have a good day in the woods today.

And you don’t want to come along? His father didn’t even try to hide his disappointment at that.

You know me. I’m not good on a horse and clueless with a rifle. I would only slow you down ... or worse.

All three of John’s relatives turned at that and left the dining room. John rose from his chair as well and waited for a moment, making sure they were steering towards their rooms to get their rifles and dress for the hunt they were going on. After he was sure they had left the ground floor of Stanton Manor and were en route to their suites, he left the room as well and aimed for the old library.

It was less of a grand affair than he would have liked, but he knew he had to work with what he had. He aimed for one of the shelves with newer books - most of which John had bought himself and added to his ancestral library - and took a novel with him to the nearest armchair. He settled comfortably and opened the book at the page where he had left a slip of paper the day before. To his father, an outdoor enthusiast to the core, spending time indoors while there wasn’t a snowstorm blocking all doors and windows was atrocious and John was well aware of that. Nevertheless, he spent most of his days in the library, reading and keeping up with his massive correspondence. The latter was the only reason why his father didn’t try to physically keep him from going there. To both his father and his mother, keeping up with the far-reaching Stanton family and the many acquaintances and friends was a chore, whereas John rather enjoyed composing interesting and entertaining letters suited to the tastes of the recipient. Having him take care of the necessary correspondence left his parents more time for their own interests while not hurting the family’s relations.

He didn’t stay undisturbed for long, though. Only perhaps a quarter of an hour later, his mother entered the library, still wearing a frock over her dress to keep the earth from the winter garden from staining her clothes. John, dear, when did Mabel want to come and visit us again?

He placed his book on a side table and thought about it for a moment. Next Monday, mother.

Yes, that’s what I remembered. She smiled. But you know me and dates ... I tend to remember them wrong. I was going to instruct Caruthers to make sure her usual guestroom is prepared in time. I would have hated to do so prematurely.

It won’t be prematurely, mother. You should also remember to remind him that Aunt Mabel wants a decanter of water in her room at all times. He should make sure the maids know.

Yes, I should remind him of that. Thank you, dear. She paused for a moment. And do you also remember when Richard is due for his next leave?

Remembering that took a little longer. Not before Christmas, I’m afraid. He has been dispatched to the continent, as part of the new ambassador’s entourage. He won’t be back from Italy before Christmas.

Oh, well, at least he gets to see a bit of the world. And I imagine Italy will be more comfortable in winter than England is.

Looking back at his own time in Italy, he nodded with a smile. It is ... but it can be rather hot for someone from England in summer. The Italians are used to that, of course. Richard will have to get used to it, too. He chose to join the military, after all.

I’m sure he will get used to it ... Richard is a good boy. She looked out of the window for a moment. I hope your father and brothers bring back something nice from their hunt today.

He nodded. For the many bad things to be said about Lord Edmund’s passion for hunting, he was not a man to let food go spoiled. Whatever he and the others brought back from the hunt, if it was edible for man or beast, it was eaten - by the guard and hunting dogs he kept on the premises, if nobody else. Only heads, antlers, or fur were kept for the room John’s father called his study, although it was not suitable for studying anything but the bottom of a glass full of spirits.

I certainly won’t say no to some venison on the table. I might be useless on the hunt, but I do enjoy its spoils.

Not everyone can be as passionate about hunting as your father is. His mother shook her head. I will admit, however, that there are worse passions for a noble to have. It doesn’t cost us much and it comes with quite some uses for the whole household.

Yes, bullets are cheap enough and the rifles see quite some use, so the money surely is not wasted. Not to mention how much the household saves in meat and dog food. How is the winter garden?

I just cut back some of the plants. They are growing very well ... that steam heating unit we had installed allows me to grow so many interesting specimen now.

I’m very happy to hear that, mother. He really was, the large winter garden was a calm oasis in the usually busy house, just like the library. You have done tremendous things with the winter garden over time.

And you haven’t even seen it when I came here as a blushing bride long ago. It was in complete disarray and filled with dying plants.

I can’t imagine what it would have looked like then. I only know the garden filled with exotic plants ... even more exotic ones since father had the heating system for the house extended to the winter garden two years ago.

Of course you can’t. She laughed. I had all the plants either saved or removed before I was with a child for the first time. By the time Henry was born, the garden was already recovering as well. She turned. Well, I know what I wanted to know ... I will return to my plants.

You do that, mother. He picked up his book again. I shall return to my reading.

* * *

John’s father and brothers didn’t come back until late in the afternoon, which meant a nice, calm day with few distractions. John managed to finish his novel in peace and spent a nice hour in the winter garden as well, enjoying the warm, slightly humid climate of the room. He was just finished with changing for dinner when he heard the heavy steps of his father and brothers in the hallway outside.

With a smile, he left the room and greeted the three men. You look like you were successful.

We were ... marvellous stag. Lord Edmund smiled broadly. In a few days, we shall have a few amazing meals.

Just in time for Aunt Mabel’s visit, then?

Mabel will come by soon? That made his father smile even more broadly. Yes, just in time for that. The meat needs some time to rest first, then Mabel will enjoy the roast, I’m sure.

She usually does. And she will arrive on Monday.

Father, we need to change for dinner. Henry’s voice had a slightly reproachful tone to it.

Yes, we do. Although I dare say they won’t start dinner without me.

For a moment, John watched his father, Henry, and Lewis walk down the hallway to their own rooms, then he turned towards the stairs himself. He met up with his mother, now dressed suitably for a lady at dinner time, in the foyer.

We will have quite a bit of venison during the next weeks. She smiled. Lewis shot an amazing stag ... the biggest beast I’ve seen them bring back in a while.

Yes, I had the news from father already ... I met him, Henry, and Lewis in the hallway.

For a moment, his mother looked thoughtful. I had a letter from Leonard the other day.

How is he? How are his studies going?

They are going well and he seems to be well, too. But you know Leonard...

Yes, I do. John knew his fourth brother very well, indeed. Of all five sons Lord and Lady Stanton had produced, only Leonard shared John’s interest in subjects of the mind, but his interests were all focused on religion. He had joined a seminary. He is never talking much about himself and certainly not about his health. Although I imagine he wrote you half an essay about whatever theological thought currently is fresh on his mind.

She laughed softly at that. Yes, he did.

They walked into the dining room together and took their seats at the table. John mustered his mother, tracing the physical marks she had left on him, both his brown hair and his grey eyes - a combination which none of his four brothers shared. Henry and Richard, the two oldest, shared both his father’s blond hair and hazel eyes while Lewis had hazel eyes and dark hair and Leonard, despite being his twin, was blond and had grey eyes. Only John himself took completely after his mother and her family, where the combination was quite common.

One by one, the rest of the family, insofar they lived in the manor, arrived at the table, Henry, with his very efficient and precise demeanour being the first. Lord Edmund came in next, still fiddling with his cufflinks. Lewis arrived last, dressed fastidiously and more elegantly than all of his male relatives in the room together. When he wasn’t hunting on the grounds, Lewis tended to be a bit of a dandy.

During the meal, John kept to himself, listening mostly, rarely adding anything to the discussion at the table. It was mostly carried by his father and oldest brother, as every night. Henry used the dinner to ask about the details connected to the manor and the administration which came with it and Lord Edmund answered them patiently. John had always thought his father’s patient grew with every second of the day he could spend outside trying to kill some animal. The only animals his father never went for, even though it was fashionable to do so for nobles on the whole, were foxes. The family crest was dominated by one and Lord Edmund, as all of his ancestors, held the red tricksters in high esteem. On Stanton land, no fox was to be killed, no matter the offense. With bears and wolves practically eradicated on the British Isles and wild cats too crafty to show their mackerel hides to blundering humans, that usually meant no predator was shot on the lands at all. Rabbits, deer, and fowls were less fortunate, though. And all of them were eaten, whatever parts were not fit for human consumption found their ways into the bowls of the five hunting and three guard dogs on the premises.

After the last course had been served and eaten, the family retired to the nearest sitting room which offered a nice view over the rolling vistas behind the manor. John, as the youngest in the room, took it upon himself to serve the drinks, as on most evenings. He took a small glass of sherry to his own seat - not because he couldn’t tolerate more alcohol, but because it was part of his ‘face’ towards the family.

So, Lord Edmund started after a few minutes of agreeable silence, Richard is in Italy now. What is it like, John?

For a moment, John gathered his thoughts. It is different from England, very different. As a member of the ambassador’s entourage, he will be in Rome. A huge city, older than London, and filled with all sorts of people. He fondly remembered the narrow streets in the centre of the city, empty during the noon and afternoon in the hot summer, but filled from night to early morning. He remembered the warm summer nights of Rome, the many smells which mingled on those nights: flowers, food, spices, the women’s perfumes. Richard will have to adapt to the life there.

What will he have to adapt to? Henry frowned at the thought of having to change his lifestyle.

Italy is much warmer in the summer than England, Henry, due to being a good deal further south on the globe. Summer afternoons in Rome are hot, an oppressive heat which makes you sweat merely from thinking, let alone moving. The Italians have adapted to this, they work in the morning and continue work in the very late afternoon or early evening, but rest during noon and afternoon. Richard will have to learn that calling upon a shopkeeper during the afternoon will not work. He will have to learn to plan his day around this, too. If he’s wise and able to, he will rest in the afternoon as well and do more work in the morning or at night.

How inconvenient.

Lewis glanced into his own glass which held some whiskey. What about the women there?

The question was so typical for Lewis, it made John smile. They are very beautiful. In Rome, you will find women from everywhere in Italy, the cool north as well as the hot south. They all have a fire within them, too. They are strong and opinionated, passionate and proud. He remembered several of the young women he’d met during his stay in Italy - which had been much shorter than the family thought. And every man in Italy knows but one supreme ruler of his fate: his mother. In an Italian family, the mother rules and everyone obeys her. He had met those ‘mamas,’ the absolute matriarchs who easily tamed their husband’s and sons’ machismo whenever it was uncalled for.

His father frowned at that. The mothers?

Italian men are very proud of their masculinity, but they’re never allowed to forget who brought them into the world. The mother is the second-most important woman in their lives ... right after the Virgin Mary.

Mary? Lady Irene asked.

Italy is a Catholic country, mother. They do revere the Virgin Mary very much. Perhaps this is also why they offer their mothers that much reverence. After all, Mary was a mother, too.

Those Italians..., his father muttered.

It’s another culture ... different from ours, but not necessarily worse. At any rate, the stay should allow Richard to broaden his mind. If he wants to go into the diplomatic corps after his service in the military, that will be to his advantage.

Henry nodded in agreement. It will be. It is good for Richard to see another place. It will show him how much more superior England is to the rest of Europe ... especially the southern parts.

John didn’t answer, he knew his oldest brother would never see things differently. Henry was already very set in his ways, but that would be something for his fiancé Laura to change in the future.

Two

––––––––

The next day passed very much like the last one had: John read in the library and wrote a few letters to far-fetched family members while his father and brothers were out in the woods. They did not go for large prey, though, but brought back a few rabbits instead. The pantry was to remain filled, but not overfilled, that was a principle John’s father had always kept to. After dinner and the usual evening spent in a sitting room, John had just retired to his suite of rooms and was on the way to his bedroom. Then the eyes of the swan, which was part of the fireplace mantel, blinked red three times.

John walked back to the door leading to the hallway and leaned against it, listening. His parents and Henry had retired before him, but Lewis was still up and about. Nothing suggested that someone was in the hallway, so John opened the door, first to spy through a slit, then to slip through it. He hurried along the hallway and down the staircase. Ducking from shadow to shadow, he passed the foyer, then he took the long way through the servants’ corridors to the library. After making sure he was alone in the large room which was never fully lit at best times and certainly not late in the evening, he stepped up to the large fireplace which still failed abysmally at heating up the whole room during winter.

John ran his long, sensitive fingers along the left side of the mantle and pressed one specific stone there. With a soft click, the base of the fireplace unlocked and moved upwards - had a fire been lightened, it would have been moved into the chimney as well. Beneath the heavy stone plate, a square hole became visible. It was smaller than the base - together with the chimney above, this made sure the secret corridor underneath stayed free of smoke, even during winter. John merely waited long enough until he could slip into the fireplace and climb down the steel rungs embedded in the wall underneath it. He jumped the last few feet to the ground and stepped into the low corridor in front of him. There, he touched the first of two stones by his side which were slightly elevated from the wall. A row of special gas lights which would turn off completely as soon as the light was extinguished came to life. He touched the second stone and above him the base plate descended again. He knew the same would happen within two minutes after the corridor had been opened, but he preferred to close his secret route as soon as was possible.

John followed the narrow corridor which was hardly higher than he was to a spiral staircase leading further down. He took the steps swiftly, often taking two instead of one. After a long trip downwards, he reached a large room which had once been a natural hollow below the manor and its extensive basements. During a frantic week, it had been transformed into his secret headquarters a year ago. He still remembered the stress of keeping his family and the servants off the premises, so the work crew could go about their business undisturbed. The same secret button which had lightened the corridor had also woken the room from its slumber, shining light on the desk build against the wall, the filing cabinets, and several machines which were unknown to all but a selected few.

John aimed for the desk and sat down in front of it. He pulled a large microphone towards himself and pushed a button at the base. Red Fox for Grey Owl, Red Fox for Grey Owl, coming, Grey Owl.

After a few seconds, the