'Clarence!' snapped Ida, as soon as she had caught her breath, 'what the hell is happening?'

'Just stay low…' he said, urgently, manoeuvring himself into position to take the oars. Ida tried to shift her position to get more comfortable, and narrowly missed having Clarence plant his foot right on her shin

'Sorry, sorry…' he muttered, starting to row the boat further away from the shore.

The shock of the assault beginning to wear off, Ida started to feel worried

'Where are you taking me?'

'Later…'

'Where are you taking me?'

'Miss Greene, I really can't…'

'If you don't tell me, I shall sit up and I shall scream for help…'

'…no! No, you have no idea…Look…Just stay down there and I'll explain.'

He was already panting slightly with the exertion of pulling on the oars, and as Ida looked up awkwardly from where she lay, she could see his reddening face in profile as he craned his neck to check where he was going. He turned back, then, to look over Ida's head back to the shore, and there was fear in his eyes. Eventually he began to speak

'I sent that note this morning, and rowed to the lakeside to wait for you. It's quicker to get from my house that way, you see, and it was a nice morning…'

'…yes?'

'So I was waiting by the jetty, in some state of agitation. You can only imagine my horror to see my brother coming up the path from the town!'

'Indeed.'

'I have no idea how he spent last night – he was absent from our house. As far as I know, he was heading back there this morning...when he saw me...'

Clarence twisted his head around again, and seemed to decide that he ought to rotate the direction of the boat a little. He rowed only with the right hand for a while, splashing a great deal, and Ida let him concentrate on that, it being apparent that he wasn't a great oarsman. She felt the boat gradually turning against the current. If it wasn't for the planking digging painfully into her ribs, and the throbbing in her head from when she had caught it on the edge of the boat, she could almost have enjoyed the ride…But Clarence was talking again

'He was in a cheerful mood, and stopped to talk to me. I claimed to have been out fishing…'

'…fishing?'

'…Yes…a little unwise really, given my lack of, um, fishing tackle.'

'And did he…?'

'…it may have aroused his suspicions a little…'

'I can imagine.'

'So I feigned surprise at my own stupidity…'

'…can't have been that difficult…' muttered Ida to herself,

'…and asked him if he wouldn't mind asking one of the servants to bring a fishing rod out to me, when he got back to the house. I thought that would do the trick – to get rid of him – but to my horror he said that it was a nice day for some fishing, and he would fetch a couple of rods and come back, so we could do some together!'

He paused, dramatically, but Ida said nothing

'I was powerless to stop him – he headed off back to the house…on foot, for he isn't fond of boats…and I had to remain here, awaiting your arrival. But time went by, and I was so scared he would return and find you here…so that when you did come…'

'You thought it would be best to crack my head on your little rowing boat...'

'…I'm really sorry about that…'

'Clarence, if he had seen you, if he had chosen that moment to return, don't you think that your behaviour just now would have been significantly more suspicious than had you just spoken to me?'

'Well…I…'

'…and what is he going to think when he returns to find you gone?'

'…um…I…'

'And where are you taking me now?'

There was a sudden clunk of wood against wood as Clarence let go of the oars and they drifted to strike the sides of the boat. The quiver which went through the planks made Ida jump.

'I can't deal with all this!' exclaimed the young man, in obvious anguish. Ida reached up, gripped the edges of the boat in both hands and dragged herself into a sitting position. A brief wave of nausea flooded over as she raised her head, but she gritted her teeth.

Clarence had dropped his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. The oars were still in their rowlocks, but the boat was floating aimlessly. As Ida looked around, she saw that they were now out of sight of the small harbour they started from.

'Clarence?' she said, gently 'it's alright. We're alright, and your brother will probably be eating breakfast right now, not giving you a second thought…And I'm sure that you did the right thing…by…um…kidnapping me…' her voice trailed off as her brain caught up, but Clarence was hardly listening. He slowly lifted his head to meet her eyes, and said, hollowly

'My own brother is a criminal.'

Ida returned his gaze with equal seriousness.

'What have you discovered?'

'Last night,' he began, with that same monotonous hollow quality to his voice, 'my brother went out, into town. He often does, to play cards, to meet his friends…' Clarence swallowed, as though his mouth was becoming dry. 'When I returned, after seeing you, he had already left. I retired to my own room. But I could not sleep. I thought I might read for a while, but remembered that I had lent my latest edition of the Strand Magazine to my brother. So, I thought I would retrieve it from his room.'

At this point, Clarence paused again, and Ida noticed that he was knotting the fingers of one hand into the other.

'I happen to know that my brother keeps a spare key to his room inside an oriental vase in the library, for use on the occasions that he mislays his usual copy. I thought that since he was out, I could easily slip into his room to get my magazine… So I took the key, and went inside. Miss Greene, as I stepped into the room, I realised…' here his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, 'there was someone on the bed.'

Ida lent forward conspiratorially

'My first thought was that it was my brother. But…Miss Greene, you had planted seeds of suspicion in my mind, and I had been certain he was going out…So I stepped forward once again.

'Miss Greene, in the moonlight which came through the window…the curtains, you see, being un drawn, I recognised none other than Morty Grimshaw.'

Ida exhaled loudly,

'Well!' she said, 'I hope that…'

Clarence held up a hand to silence her

'I didn't know what to think,' he continued, 'until I noticed something else. There was something…unnatural…about his sleep. His breathing was very slow, and he had not stirred on my entry. So I went closer and shook his arm.'

'And?' said Ida, eagerly

'And he did not wake. And I found that I could not move his arm…because a rope had been used to tie him very securely to the bed.'

Ida's eyes widened, and she sat back in the boat.

'Miss Greene,' said Clarence, desperately, 'I don't know what to do! My first instinct was to free Mortimer, to call for help… But then… Was I to turn in my own brother? And the scandal that would involve…Not that that should matter, I know, but…I need to find out what is happening here…Oh, Miss Greene, I don't know what to do!'

Although she found the whiney edge to his voice a little grating, Ida felt genuinely sorry for the young man, his stricken face staring so hopelessly at hers. She reached over and patted his tensely clasped hands

'We'll find out,' she said, 'I promise.'

………

'Nice boathouse,' commented Ida, for want of anything else to say, as Clarence manoeuvred the boat rather ineptly into the wooden structure which adjoined the Fortescue mansion, where the water came up right to the edge of the house. It was a large, airy space, where a small sailing boat was also housed.

There was a bump, then the boat rocked dangerously from side to side once more, as Clarence scrambled to his feet and climbed up onto some wooden steps. He turned back, and offered his hand to help Ida up alongside him. Apparently observing her properly for the first time, he said

'Gosh, I really am sorry about your head…'

Ida gingerly felt the lump with her free hand

'I'll live.'

As they reached the top of the stairs, Ida hung back

'Clarence, I'm not sure bringing me to your house is such a good idea…'

'…but I need your help to find out what's going on!'

'Yes…but don't you think your family will be…puzzled…by my presence?'

Clarence paused, then

'We'll just have to make sure they don't see you, then,' he said, decisively.

………

Miraculously, they managed to make their way to Clarence's room, by way of a side staircase, without meeting a soul. As they slipped inside, Ida thought briefly of Prudence, and the expression on her face if she could see them now… But her mind was quickly drawn back to the matter in hand. Clarence threw himself onto the bed, apparently struck again by a fit of despair. He seemed unwilling to talk for the time being, so Ida wandered over to the window, and pulled the curtain back a little to look down onto the lawns where she had seen Horace and Grimshaw the day before.

Clarence's loyalty to his brother was touching…but Ida herself had no sympathies to spare for Horace. Her main priority was to free Grimshaw, and she was sure that Clarence could be persuaded to assist…

…her hand brushed against a cold, smooth object on the windowsill. She looked down to find a strange stone resting there, a ribbed spiral shape just a little smaller than her palm. Intrigued, she picked it up.

'What's this?' she asked, turning to Clarence, who still lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He propped himself up on his elbows to look at her.

'That? That's…well, it's an ammonite.'

'A…fossil?'

'That's right…' Clarence hesitated, 'Well, truthfully it's only a model of a fossil.'

'A model?' breathed Ida softly, turning the object over in her hand

'Yes. Not a terribly good one, I'm afraid, I've made much better…'

'You make…forgeries…of fossils?' said Ida slowly, her mind in turmoil

'Well, that's a bit of a harsh word!' said Clarence, slightly hotly 'it's not like I pass them off as the real thing!'

'No?' said Ida, 'so why do you make them?'

'Sculpture is a hobby of mine… I enjoy reproducing things found in nature as realistically as I can…'

Ida looked at him sceptically, and he blushed

'There isn't much I do which pleases my father,' he said, swinging his legs round so that he could sit on the edge of the bed, 'but he was impressed by the way I could make replicas of his fossil specimens. Some of his collection is very valuable, and he likes to keep the genuine article locked away. My copies look good on the shelves of his study.'

'I see.'

'You must think me insufferably dull…'

No, mused Ida, no, not quite what I was thinking…

'How do you do it?' she said aloud

Clarence brightened visibly

'Oh, I use a variety of materials – clay, plaster of Paris…lumps of chalk and limestone…it depends on the subject. And I have perfected many different combinations of paints, lacquers, varnishes and stains to produce an authentic looking finish. Hah, sometimes my own father can hardly tell them apart from the real thing!'

'Really?' smiled Ida, hoping that her grin was not too false looking.

'Yes…I may never be a true artist, but I am a perfectionist at this small thing…'

'…I can well imagine…' said Ida. 'Tell me, does your brother take an interest in this at all?'

A thoughtful look passed across Clarence's features

'It's funny you should mention that…' he said.

Well, here you go, I managed to update a bit quicker this time! Hope you like!