Death of a Footman (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 8) Page 13

  ‘She was lying, wasn’t she, sir?’ Salter said belligerently. ‘She said that we wouldn’t be able to prove she was there, but she didn’t say that she wasn’t. She thinks she’s cleverer than we are. You should have let me arrest her. She thinks she’s going to get away with it. Her sort always do, but she would soon have changed her tune if she’d been obliged to spend a few hours in one of our delightful cells.’

  ‘On the contrary, Jack, we’ve worried her a lot but she thinks we can’t actually prove she was at that tavern, and she’s right. She wore a half-veil, the tavern was poorly lit and most of its occupants couldn’t see straight by that point in the evening anyway. They would never recognise her now.’ He threw back his head and sighed. ‘I had hoped she would admit it when we told her what we knew but it was a vain hope. Anyway, it will be very interesting to see what she does now.’

  ‘How did you get on with the servants, Peterson?’ Salter asked.

  ‘They maintain that they retired early and have no idea what their mistress got up to for the rest of the night.’

  ‘They’re hedging their bets,’ Salter said. ‘Don’t want to drop her in it but won’t give her a clean pass either.’

  ‘Can’t blame them for that,’ Riley said. ‘Stay out here in the street, Peterson, but keep out of sight. If she was the lady seen arguing with Ezra then she had to have an accomplice. If it was her husband, we will have trouble proving it. If it was anyone else, she’s now running scared and will almost certainly try to see him so that they can decide what to do next. She’s frightened, Jack, don’t worry. We’ll get her soon enough if she is the guilty party.’ Riley turned back to Peterson. ‘I will have Sergeant Barton arrange for you to be relieved as soon as I get back to the Yard.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, sir. I won’t let you down.’

  ‘Good man.’

  Salter put his fingers in his mouth and whistled to a hansom. The jarvey steered his long-suffering horse into a sharp turn, jabbing its mouth in the process, and stopped at the curb to collect them. Riley spent the short journey to Whitehall submerged in thought, pondering upon the identity of Verity’s most likely accomplice, always supposing he existed. Her reaction to his questions had left him doubting his own suppositions. Her husband was a distinct possibility, but Patrick, Sarah and her husband had solid alibis, so whom had she recruited?

  Would Verity and Gregg have joined forces? Riley had not completely excluded James from his list of suspects, even though he believed his explanation for his behaviour on the night in question. They might need to come back to Albert, the other footman, at some point. Riley wondered now if he had dismissed Albert from his list a little too precipitously. He didn’t seem to have any designs upon Ida’s favours, but probably felt as resentful of Ezra’s boastful ways and disinclination to share the workload as the rest of the male servants in the Randall household. He might also be willing to go to extreme lengths to oblige Verity in return for monetary reward, or simply to rid the household of the blight that was Ezra.

  If none of those people had acted alone or in partnership, then Riley would be obliged to look again at Ezra’s family and the shady characters he had mixed with in order to establish the framework for his sporting club. He sighed, thinking that the more he learned about the characters involved with Ezra, the less sure he was about anything.

  ‘You’re quiet, sir,’ Salter said as their cab turned into Whitehall. ‘Thinking about the case, I assume.’

  ‘I was thinking, Jack, that Ezra put so many people’s backs up that we might never get to the truth.’

  ‘It ain’t like you to be so pessimistic, sir,’ Salter replied as they climbed from the cab and Riley paid the fare.

  ‘Oh, I’m not giving up, Jack, but I am a realist. Anyway, let’s track Gideon down to his lair and put the fear of God into him.’

  ‘Now you’re talking, sir!’ Salter rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. ‘There’s nothing I enjoy more than jogging suspects’ memories.’

  ‘That’s the spirit!’

  Riley and Salter entered the Office of the Parliamentary Counsel, responsible for drafting all government bills, gave their names and asked to see Gideon. The clerk who attended to them disappeared and returned some minutes later to inform Riley that Gideon would see them.

  ‘So I should bloody well think,’ Salter muttered as they followed the clerk through a maze of narrow corridors with boxlike offices on both sides and internal windows only, full of clerks seated on high stools scribbling away industriously. None of them glanced up as Riley and Salter passed their lairs. Riley wondered what it must be like to work without ever seeing daylight and felt sympathy for their situation, even though he was well aware that these positions were much sought after.

  ‘Makes Scotland Yard look positively modern,’ Salter remarked.

  ‘The gentlemen from Scotland Yard, sir,’ the clerk said, having tapped at a door and been invited to enter.

  Gideon’s domain was slightly more prestigious than the cages they had walked past, but not by very much. A small room with one equally small window set high behind his desk, letting in a very little natural light. There were books lining one entire wall, a filing cabinet in one corner and a neat pile of papers on Gideon’s desk. Riley had noticed two clerks in an outer office who did glance up, presumably because Riley and Salter were here to see their boss. Riley doubted that their identity would remain secret for long, and that speculation would quickly become rife as to the nature of Gideon’s crimes.

  ‘Lord Riley, what news can be so important that it brings you to my place of work?’ Gideon asked, putting aside his pen and standing. ‘Have you found out who killed that footman? If so, I must congratulate you upon bringing the matter to a speedy conclusion, but I fail to see why it required you to come here in person to tell me. I did not employ the man and frankly have little interest in the matter.’

  ‘May I sit down?’ Riley asked politely.

  ‘Please.’ Gideon indicated the visitor’s chair situated on the opposite of the desk to which he was standing and simultaneously resumed his own chair.

  ‘To answer your question,’ Riley said, once he had settled himself as comfortably as he could manage, ‘our visit would not have been necessary if you had told us the complete truth about your whereabouts.’

  Gideon’s shoulders slumped. ‘I hoped you wouldn’t check,’ he admitted with a wry smile.

  ‘We would be sorry excuses for policemen if we did not. It might surprise you to learn that witnesses make a habit out of lying to us.’

  ‘And you did so because you were out murdering Ezra Dawson, who’d become both an embarrassment and an impediment to your career,’ Salter added in his customary down to earth manner.

  ‘No, Sergeant,’ Gideon said, shaking his head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but it wasn’t anything nearly so bloodthirsty that made me hesitate to tell you the truth.’ He managed a mirthless smile. ‘Well, no blood was actually spilled in the place where I went, but I cannot discount the possibility of that situation arising in the future, albeit metaphorically.’

  ‘Have the goodness to explain,’ Riley said crisply.

  ‘There is a sea of discontent in political circles about the current Liberal government.’

  ‘Gladstone was elected with a substantial majority.’

  ‘And is making a wretched job of the Irish problem. However, there are certain powerful people who feel the opposition as it stands lacks the courage of its convictions and want to form a new political party that looks to the interests of the people, putting their affairs first. There have been a number of top secret meetings and I have been asked to attend, more or less as a note-taker, but my card has been marked.’

  He sat a little straighter, pride in his modest achievement evident in his demeanour. Riley wanted to tell him that it was one thing plotting the downfall of governments but entirely another having the courage and strength to bring those plots to fruition. He could have added
that the Machiavellian powers-that-be were almost certainly aware of their fledgling rebellion, and would be ready to crush it if it developed teeth. But he refrained. Gideon would discover in due course that he’d been the architect of his own thwarted ambitions.

  ‘I’ve been noticed by people who matter, and will take an important role in the future government of this country, you just mark my words.’

  Riley resisted the urge to tell him that he sounded unpardonably pompous. ‘Your wife knew where you were?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! And I would keep it that way. She has no vision or patience, and doesn’t understand the way these things work. She thinks I was dining with friends.’

  ‘Actually,’ Riley said casually, ‘she told us that you spent the evening with your mistress.’

  ‘She said what?’ Gideon sat forward, looking terrified. ‘She knows?’

  ‘You arrive home smelling of cheap perfume, apparently,’ Salter told him with relish.

  ‘Hardly cheap.’ Gideon’s lips turned down at the corners. ‘I should know. I paid for it myself. Ah well, I don’t suppose she’ll make a fuss. She isn’t interested in that side of our marriage. Better she thinks that than knows the truth.’

  ‘I will need to know where you met and the name of someone who can independently attest to your presence.’

  ‘Can I depend upon your discretion? Sorry,’ Gideon added hastily when Riley sent him an icy look. ‘Anyway, Lord Rothsmere will tell you that he held a small reception that evening and will confirm that I was amongst the guests. Will that be satisfactory?’

  ‘Perfectly so in respect of your own whereabouts, although I would have appreciated it if you’d saved me the trouble of finding out by being truthful in the first place.’

  ‘Sorry, but the fact of the matter is that I panicked. Didn’t want Verity to know about Arabella or Rothsmere. Since I didn’t kill the damned footman, it didn’t seem that important where I was.’

  ‘As I was saying,’ Riley continued, ‘if your account of your actions is confirmed.’ He paused. ‘This time. In that case you can be excluded from our enquiries. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for your wife.’

  ‘Verity?’

  ‘Do you have any other wives, sir?’ Salter asked.

  ‘Don’t be facetious, Sergeant. What can this possibly have to do with Verity? She was at home all the evening. Besides, I understand the man met his end in Clapham and was whacked over the head. Verity wouldn’t lower herself to set foot in that area again.’

  ‘Again?’ Riley and Salter asked together.

  ‘Oh.’ Gideon glanced up, a surprised look on his face. ‘I thought you knew, which would explain your ridiculous theory. Verity’s father was a master cooper with a business in Clapham. Verity grew up in the district and was very anxious to leave it behind the moment she was in a position to better herself.’

  ‘Thank you, we were not aware of that. She neglected to mention the fact to us.’

  ‘Well, she wouldn’t shout about it. She pretends that part of her life didn’t happen.’ Gideon rolled his eyes. ‘She wouldn’t go back, and certainly not alone at night. But even if for some inexplicable reason she did decide to do so, how could a little thing like her possibly reach high enough to clout a huge chap like Dawson on the back of the bonce?’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t do it alone,’ Salter remarked.

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’ Gideon spread his hands. ‘Look, I’ll be the first to admit that my wife has pretentions, and she definitely didn’t approve of my mother’s relationship with the hired help. She doesn’t approve of anything enjoyable, now I come to think about it,’ he added gloomily. ‘Anyway, that’s my cross to bear. But I can’t think of any reason why she would take matters into her own hands or be lured into helping anyone else commit cold-blooded murder. She’s far too self-aware to take the risk.’ He pulled a doomed face. ‘Take it from one who knows.’

  ‘You depend upon your mother to fund your political ambitions,’ Riley said.

  ‘Ha! It would be more accurate to say that she supplements our income. I don’t earn a great deal as a civil servant, even though my position is relatively senior, but since Verity has decided that I will one day become a member of parliament, standards must be maintained.’

  ‘Your wife makes all your career decisions for you, does she, sir?’ Salter asked. ‘She must be quite a forceful lady.’

  ‘You have no idea, Sergeant. No idea at all.’

  ‘My point is,’ Riley said, ‘that the merest hint of scandal would derail your ambitions.’

  ‘Mother will never change her ways. Remove one embarrassment and she will soon replace him with someone else even more unsuitable. I think she does it to prove something to herself. She feels worthless because of events that occurred when she was young. She told me that much once, but I’ve never been able to get more out of her on the subject. Anyway, Verity knows that Mother will always do as she pleases. Trust me, Verity has nagged me often enough about her behaviour, begging me to do something about it and…damn, I’ve just made my wife look guilty, haven’t I?’

  ‘I prefer honesty,’ Riley replied. ‘And I can assure you that we won’t arrest anyone until we have verified our facts.’

  ‘Decent of you.’

  Riley couldn’t decide if Gideon was more relieved or disappointed. All he knew was that he had never seen a less likely political leader. If a man couldn’t even assert his authority in his own household, then he had precious little chance of convincing an apathetic public to place their trust in him.

  ‘Can you think of anyone connected to your family who would feel such a compelling need to kill your mother’s lover?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Frankly, no. If you’re thinking of Father then you’re barking up the wrong tree. He and mother are affectionately inclined, perfectly attuned and content to lead separate lives up to a point. I asked him once why he put up with it and he simply told me that her sexual needs were of absolutely no interest to him. He said that marriages—lasting marriages—transcended the physical and that Mother would always remain devoted to him because they understood one another perfectly. And she seems to. I’ve watched them together since then and I have to say that I begin to understand what he means. She doesn’t embarrass him in public by flaunting her affairs and behaves impeccably in social situations.’ Gideon smiled. ‘Mother is the greatest possible fun and charms all of Father’s stuffy old connections into more congenial frames of mind.’

  ‘Very well. We will of course be speaking with Lord Rothsmere, and providing he confirms what time you left his establishment, I can’t see that we will need to trouble you again.’

  Gideon stood and extended his hand to Riley. ‘I am obliged to you,’ he said, ringing a little bell to summon a clerk to show them out.

  ‘Poor bugger,’ Salter muttered once they were outside again. ‘Makes you wonder why he married such an ambitious chit.’

  ‘Money,’ Riley said, sighing. ‘Most things in life come down to money. She brought a substantial inheritance to the marriage, but they’ve already run through it.’

  ‘It’s interesting to learn that his wife’s from Clapham.’

  ‘Yes, Jack, very interesting indeed. But what I found even more interesting was the casual manner in which Gideon dropped the fact into conversation.’

  ‘You think he did it in a deliberate attempt to point the finger of suspicion at his wife?’

  ‘The possibility crossed my mind.’

  Chapter Nine

  Back at Scotland Yard, Riley asked Sergeant Barton to arrange for someone to relieve Peterson and received a grunt by way of acknowledgement. He then retired to his office, where he spent the next half hour going through his other inspectors’ cases and giving instructions regarding the investigation of a recent spate of burglaries. Satisfied that the two men were on top of their investigations, he sent them on their way moments before Salter put his head round the door.

  ‘Carter and Soames
are back, sir. James was in that tavern right enough, but no one can recall what time he arrived or when he left. He wasn’t seen speaking with anyone but the landlord remembers him because he had to stop him from getting into a ruckus with another customer. Something over nothing, the landlord called it.’

  ‘It sounds to me as though our friend wanted to be noticed and remembered.’

  ‘I thought that an’ all.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Riley said sighing, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. Salter lowered himself into it. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll be able to track down the man he got into a dispute with, or that it will help our investigation even if we could. Let’s leave it for now. It will likely not be the best way to deploy our resources—at least not until we have more evidence that points to James’s involvement.’

  ‘Do you think it is him, sir?’

  Riley took a moment to consider his response. ‘Not sure. Our problem is that almost everyone involved in this case had reasons to want rid of Ezra; some more compelling than others. Ezra dislodged James from his position as Ida’s favourite and didn’t behave with discretion once he stepped into his shoes. I don’t know about you, Jack, but I can’t think of many men who’d stomach such blatant goading.’

  Salter sighed. ‘Aye, you’re not wrong. So what now, sir?’ he asked.

  ‘I think tomorrow you and I need to take another look at the Clapham angle, Jack. Send Carter and Soames to Lord Rothsmere’s residence in Holborn first thing to ascertain that Gideon was there, what time he left, and so forth. They know what questions to ask.’

  ‘Will do.’ Salter paused. ‘You think Verity Randall is involved in this business in some way, don’t you, sir?’

  ‘I think she is an unlikeable, ambitious and resentful person, Jack, and I’m sure Gideon regrets marrying her. It most certainly isn’t a love match. One assumes he was attracted by her fortune and now finds himself stuck in an unhappy marriage to a sharp-tongued harpy. His wife will always be disappointed, since Gideon lacks his father’s intelligence and will to succeed. He simply doesn’t have what it takes to rise to the top of his chosen profession and fulfil his wife’s desire to see him take political office, much less thrive in the shark-infested waters of politics.’