Death of a Footman (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 8) Page 14

  ‘I tend to agree that Gideon is ineffectual.’

  Riley rubbed his chin. ‘Anyway, timing was vital and if Gideon really was at Lord Rothsmere’s then he couldn’t have done it. No one knew Ezra was going to Clapham, so it had to be arranged at the last minute. Verity, on the other hand, makes no secret of the fact that Ezra was both an embarrassment and potential drain on Ida’s fortune. And she, I think, is more than capable of cobbling the plot together, although she could not have done it alone.’

  ‘Gideon deliberately mentioned Verity’s connection to Clapham, aware that she would never refer to it herself.’

  ‘Oh yes, he did that, Jack, but an act of petty spite is very different to devising such a convoluted plot to kill a man, to say nothing of having the nerve to go through with it.’

  ‘You think he minds about his mother’s dalliances?’

  ‘Not as much as it worries Verity, and she was unable to keep her disapproval to herself. Anyway, what we think doesn’t signify, not unless we can prove it. And so far, we have absolutely no idea whether any of our suspects were anywhere near Ezra when he died.’

  ‘Perhaps I should go to the Plough this evening and talk to some of the regulars,’ Salter suggested. ‘Early like, before they’re in their cups. Someone might remember something in the cold light of sobriety.’

  ‘Now that is a very good suggestion, if you don’t mind sacrificing your family time.’

  ‘All in a good cause, sir,’ Salter replied cheerfully.

  ‘Don’t come up to London in the morning, Jack. I will come down to Clapham and meet you at the Plough at ten. Don’t stay there all night though. I’d like to speak with Reggie Lane as well. Where can we find him?’

  ‘Out the front, asking to see you,’ Sergeant Barton said, putting his head round the door, clearly having overheard their conversation.

  Riley and Salter exchanged a glance.

  ‘Is he indeed?’ Riley said, recovering from his surprise first. ‘Very well, show him into an interview room please. I’ll be there in a moment.’ Riley paused. ‘Is he known to you, Barton?’

  ‘I know him by reputation. A nasty piece of work. His name’s come up when more than one member of the criminal fraternity in his neck of the woods has gone missing, but nothing ever sticks to him. He ain’t never been a guest of ours in this establishment before now, not in any capacity. He’s too wily to get himself arrested and pays others to take all the risks in his empire.’

  ‘And has likely come to you,’ Salter added, a cynical twist to his lips, ‘because he knew we’d connect him to Ezra sooner or later and would prefer not to have us poking our noses into his affairs.’

  ‘Aye, right enough,’ Barton agreed, taking himself off to accommodate their unexpected guest in an interview room.

  ‘Let’s leave him to settle in for a few minutes,’ Riley said, leaning back to contemplate this unexpected development. ‘Have you ever crossed paths with the man in your professional capacity, Jack?’

  ‘Nope. Like Barton says, he ain’t one to take risks himself. But I hear he’s educated and clever, so don’t underestimate him, sir.’

  ‘I never give any of our guests here the benefit of the doubt, Jack. You ought to know that much about me by now.’

  ‘And he will know all about you, sir. You can count on it, given that he asked for you by name. Probably thinks you’re an over privileged toff playing at being a policeman.’

  Riley fixed his sergeant with a droll look. ‘Let’s go and disabuse him of that notion then, shall we?’

  Salter grinned. ‘Lead the way.’

  Riley strode into the room where Lane had been asked to wait, wondering what to expect. A tall, well-dressed man of about forty, with a long nose and sharp features stood up, the suggestion of a mocking smile playing about his lips. Riley could see that Lane was returning the favour and summing him up with a sweeping gaze down the length of Riley’s expensively-attired body. The momentary uncertainty that flashed through his eyes was, Riley hoped, in response to Riley’s air of authority that came naturally to most men born into positions of privilege. Lane already knew, without a word having been spoken, that Riley wouldn’t be as easy to influence as he’d anticipated.

  ‘Thank you for coming in, Mr Lane,’ Riley said, breaking the silence as he took a chair and motioned Lane back to his. ‘I am Chief Inspector Rochester and this is Sergeant Salter. We are obliged to you for saving us the trouble of coming to find you.’

  ‘Always happy to cooperate with the forces of law and order.’

  Salter harrumphed but refrained from comment.

  ‘You and Ezra Dawson were contemplating a business venture, I am given to understand.’

  ‘We were. I run a number of clubs south of the river and I’m always looking to expand. Ezra came to me with plans for a club at Nine Elms, having identified a need for such an establishment in that part of the world. We examined the premises together and agreed that they would work well.’

  ‘You were an investor in the scheme?’ Riley asked, aware that he was not.

  Lane shook his head slowly, a half smile playing about his lips. ‘Not in the financial sense, no.’

  ‘Please elucidate.’

  They were dancing around the issue and both men knew it. Riley was well aware that Ezra could not have opened his club without Lane’s prior knowledge and approval, but Lane would never make such an admission.

  ‘I was a consultant,’ he said.

  ‘Of course you were,’ Salter muttered.

  ‘It would have been an expensive business to get such a venture off the ground, especially if Ezra hoped to attract custom from all walks of life.’

  ‘The upper classes don’t mind rubbing shoulders with their inferiors, but they do require comfortable surroundings,’ Lane replied, ‘but then I don’t suppose I’m telling you anything that you don’t already know.’

  ‘Who was supplying the funds to get the venture off the ground?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Ezra assured me that he had several backers.’

  ‘Did he give you any names?’

  ‘The lady he worked for was keen to invest, so I understand.’ He smirked. ‘Most ladies were keen to oblige Ezra in any way that they could.’

  Riley allowed a long pause to develop but Lane seemed comfortable with it and showed no immediate desire to break the silence.

  ‘Mr Lane, why have you bothered to come and see me if you have no information pertinent to my enquiry?’ Riley asked, losing patience.

  ‘I’m an upstanding citizen,’ Lane replied. ‘I felt it my duty to…’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Salter growled, smacking the flat of his hand against the table and pushing his face up against Lane’s. Riley watched with interest. Salter outweighed Lane and wasn’t intimidated by him, but Riley suspected that few men dared to talk to him disrespectfully and even fewer would be permitted to get away with it. Lane’s hands had clenched into fists and his cheeks momentarily bulged, but he quickly regained control of himself and sent Salter a look of mild irritation. ‘You came here to cover your own backside,’ Salter continued. ‘Didn’t want the chief inspector and me looking too closely at your affairs, more like, but I have news for you. Unless and until we can find Ezra’s killer, we will be turning the lives of everyone who had anything to do with him on their heads.’

  ‘Feel free, Sergeant.’ Lane’s face was an emotionless mask. ‘I have nothing to hide.’

  ‘I was asking about Ezra’s investors,’ Riley said, having allowed a momentary pause in which the only sound to be heard was Lane’s rather laboured breathing; a testament to the fact that he was anything other than the epitome of calm he was attempting to project. He sat sideways on the uncomfortable wooden chair he occupied and crossed his legs, turning his back to Salter.

  ‘And I was about to tell you, before we were so rudely interrupted, that Ezra was working in conjunction with Lord Buckingham.’

  ‘We are aware of that, but Buckingham wasn’t an investor
. I am also aware of the amount that Ezra’s employer was willing to put up. It was a large enough sum, but it wouldn’t have been sufficient to get an enterprise of this nature off the ground. There has to have been someone else. Did Ezra introduce you to another interested party, or mention any names?’

  ‘I know his intended had independent means,’ Lane replied, delivering his shock revelation with a casual shrug and ambivalent smile.

  Riley sent Salter a warning glance, urging him not to react to the news that Lane had clearly come here with the deliberate intention of imparting.

  ‘We have heard mention of Ezra’s impending nuptials from several sources,’ Riley said, playing Lane at his own game by affecting disinterest as the lie slipped effortlessly from his tongue, ‘but have yet to track her down. Are you aware of her name?’

  ‘I am not. He keeps her hidden away, probably worried about the competition.’

  ‘Where does she live?’ Salter asked.

  ‘In one of the big houses that look over the common in Clapham, I think,’ Lane replied. ‘But I’m not sure and I couldn’t tell you which one.’

  Riley knew that he probably could, but that it would be useless trying to make him admit it. It didn’t matter. The lady would be found.

  ‘A dozen uniformed constables swamping the area and asking questions ought to find her,’ he said absently. ‘And as you are an honest businessman, their presence won’t inconvenience you in the least, I’m sure.’

  Riley had the satisfaction of seeing Lane finally looking discomposed. ‘Thank you,’ he said abruptly, standing. ‘You may go.’

  ‘I hope I’ve been useful and that we understand one another,’ Lane said, fixing Riley with a menacing look. Riley had come out as the victor in their confrontation and Lane wasn’t happy about it. Perhaps his threat to swamp the area with a police presence had been a miscalculation that had riled Lane to no purpose.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ Salter growled.

  ‘How’s that charming daughter of yours, Sergeant? I dare say she’s devastated by Ezra’s untimely demise. She was quite smitten with him. Is she still making hats?’

  ‘What the…?’

  Salter clenched his fists and lunged for Lane. Riley only just managed to hold him off. Lane’s laughter echoed in the corridor as a constable showed him out.

  ‘How the hell does he know about our Maureen?’ Salter asked, looking ready to commit a murder or two of his own.

  ‘Calm down, Jack. You threatened him and he returned the favour. He’s not stupid and he won’t try to hurt you or yours. The last thing he wants is us looking too closely at his affairs.’ Riley slapped his sergeant’s meaty shoulder. ‘Come back to my office and we’ll talk this through.’

  Salter mumbled something impolite but dutifully followed Riley back to his room.

  ‘Close the door.’

  Salter did so and fell into a chair, running a hand through his hair and still muttering imprecations beneath his breath.

  ‘Lane doesn’t know your daughter himself, and he won’t lay a finger on her, so don’t get yourself worked up, Jack. Like I say, he was just getting back at you for throwing your weight about. No one does that to Lane and gets away with it.’ Riley leaned his head back, closed his eyes and sighed. ‘One of his many employees would make it his business to know all there is to know about the policemen living or working on his patch. You can bet your life that if you didn’t have a reputation for being straight as a die, you would have been approached with monetary incentives to help keep him one step ahead of the law by now.’

  ‘Ha! Fat chance.’

  ‘It’s to your credit that you haven’t been,’ Riley said softly. ‘You and I both know that the force is creaking at the seams with corrupt officers.’

  ‘Yeah, point taken,’ Salter replied, sighing. ‘He came here with the specific intention of telling us about Ezra’s intended, didn’t he?’

  ‘He did, Jack. The engagement, if it exists, was a secret. I’m not sure why. Either the lady is underage or recently widowed. Or else Ezra wanted to get more out of Ida before he left her employ.’

  ‘It would account for Ezra’s frequent visits to Clapham. He did visit his old ma, but not for long. Clearly he wasn’t quite the devoted son that she made him out to be.’

  ‘And it could have been his lady friend who sent the message about his mother being ill. Perhaps she needed to see him for some reason.’

  ‘Then why did he waste his precious time in the Plough?’ Salter asked, shaking his head. ‘He can have a drink any time he wants.’

  ‘That I cannot say, Jack, but what I do know is that if Ida somehow got wind of his interest elsewhere, she would not have been best pleased.’

  ‘Blimey, sir, more suspects. Just what we need. But still, I see what you mean. She knew where he had gone and wouldn’t think twice about accosting him in a tavern.’

  ‘We need to find that lady, Jack. Give the others their orders. First thing tomorrow I want them knocking on the doors of all the big houses that face the common, asking for details of ownership. Peterson can check at Lord Rothsmere’s for confirmation that Gideon was there. I’m convinced that he must have been because he couldn’t expect such an important personage to lie for him, so it’s just a matter of being thorough. Carter and Soames will be of more use in Clapham.’

  ‘Lane knows who she is and where she lives. Why the devil didn’t you let me make him tell us?’ Salter asked accusingly.

  ‘He likes playing games, Jack, which is why he came to us. Well, that and to get our measure. He wanted to see for himself what he was up against. If we’d pushed him any harder, he would have simply got up and left. We had no reason to hold him here and he knew it.’ Riley tapped his fingers absently against the surface of his desk. ‘He likes to be in control and I was content to allow him to think that he is, after a fashion. At least for now. If we subsequently discover that he had anything to do with Ezra’s death, even indirectly, then I’ll let you loose on him.’

  Salter cracked his knuckles, mollified. ‘I’ll hold you to that, sir.’

  ‘Get yourself off now, Jack, and speak to the patrons at the Plough. I will see you there in the morning.’

  ‘Right you are then, sir.’

  A tap at the door preceded Peterson entering the room.

  ‘Anything to report from Gideon Randall’s residence?’ Riley asked.

  ‘No one came or went all the time I was there, sir. One of Sergeant Barton’s men has taken my place.’

  ‘Shame. I thought we’d spooked her. Never mind.’

  ‘Take more than that to shake her up. She’s a cool customer,’ Salter said, scowling.

  ‘Her male servant came out but I couldn’t follow him and watch the house.’

  ‘Damn! She probably sent a note to her co-conspirator. Sergeant Salter has a job for the three of you in the morning. He’ll tell you what’s required and you can tell the other two when they get back. In the meantime, Peterson, I want you to have a quiet word with Verity Randall’s footman. You got to know him during your last visit, I think.’

  ‘I did, sir. I assume you want me to find out if he delivered a message for his mistress and if so, who it was addressed to.’

  ‘I do indeed, Peterson.’

  ‘Leave it to me, sir. Given that they live in an apartment, I can’t go in through the kitchen but I can wait for the footman to come out when he has a break. Mrs Randall won’t even know I’m there. Her servants aren’t especially loyal so they won’t say a word if I tell ’em not to.’

  ‘Right then, I have an appointment so I shall leave you to it.’ Riley reached for his hat. ‘Until tomorrow, gentlemen.’

  Riley didn’t have anywhere specific that he needed to be but no further progress could be made on the inquiry until the morning. He felt suffocated by this particular case and required a little time to himself, away from the environs of murder and misdirection in order to think without distraction. He went home, aware that Amelia was out for
the afternoon at a charitable function with Olivia. His son was asleep in the nursery and so he settled himself in the garden with Bruno at his side and a glass of burgundy in his hand and allowed his mind to wander. New possibilities often came to him when he didn’t try to force them.

  The sunshine caused him to fall into a light doze from which he woke abruptly, consumed by disquieting thoughts of rival females fighting for Ezra’s affections. He wondered what lengths they would be prepared to go to. Ida, he knew, would not accept competition for her favourite’s company. Even so, Riley had a hard time imagining her as the type who would turn to murder in order to protect what she looked upon as hers. If she killed anyone, it was more likely to be her rival for his affections.

  ‘We need to find the woman,’ he said aloud, wondering why she had not come forward as soon as she heard of Ezra’s murder. Because she was involved, or because she was married, or hampered by the control of an authoritative parent? No, that seemed unlikely. If she was still underage and properly chaperoned, she couldn’t have met Ezra alone, at least not for long enough to reach an understanding. What information Lane had carefully imparted would be accurate; Riley didn’t doubt if for a moment. So If Ezra was engaged to be married to the woman, she had to be either a widow or a single female of independent means. That would narrow the search criteria a little.

  ‘You look as though you have the weight of the world resting upon your shoulders.’

  Riley looked up and smiled at the sound of his wife’s voice. Bruno jumped up and wagged his tail as Amelia stood over them both, looking fresh and vibrant, and slightly concerned. He stood and gave her a kiss.

  ‘I did not expect you back so soon.’

  ‘Nor I you.’ She fell into the chair beside Riley’s. ‘This latest murder is taxing your brain. I can always tell.’

  ‘My murdered footman had more irons in the fire than a champion blacksmith, and when it comes to suspects I’m spoiled for choice. Unfortunately, I have no evidence to back any of my increasingly wild theories up.’