Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7) Read online

  ‘Are you sure that neither of them saw you? Riley asked.

  ‘I reckon not. Like I say, I don’t exist.’

  Riley thanked Dakin, refrained from asking how he had managed to do his rounds that day without his horse, preferring not to know if he had pressed another unfortunate creature into overexerting itself, and the two detectives left the tavern.

  Riley stood outside and breathed in several deep lungfuls of relatively clean air. Clean by comparison to the dank pollution of the tap room but far from fresh. His determination to purchase a house in the country where his children would not be polluted by the smells of the city intensified.

  ‘Well sir,’ Salter said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Looks like we know who our murderess was.’

  ‘Miss Sutherland certainly has some questions to answer, Jack, although what she would have to gain from murdering Lady P is less obvious to me.’

  ‘She thought Clifford stood to inherit, obviously.’

  ‘Hmm, perhaps. What concerns me is that we hadn’t allowed for the possibility that a stranger might have committed the crime. He may not have done. There’s every possibility that our loquacious coal merchant was in the right of it and our ambitious Miss Sutherland, who clearly likes to play with fire, was amusing herself by entertaining a lover who could progress her career. And doing it beneath Lady P’s roof to get back at the old lady for disliking her.’

  Salter scowled. ‘Why the devil would she take the risk?’

  ‘Because she likes doing precisely that, taking risks. It probably makes life more exciting for her. Remember Barlow said he heard movement in the corridor during the night and thought it was a guest paying a visit to the lavatory. Perhaps what he actually heard was an uninvited guest visiting Miss Sutherland.’

  ‘We’ll have her in a quiz her though, won’t we, sir?’ Salter looked desperate and Riley knew that was because he thoroughly disapproved of lascivious behaviour. If offended his Christian sensibilities.

  ‘We will indeed. But first I need to find out from Stout if anyone matching the vague description of Miss Sutherland’s nocturnal visitor is a regular at the Audition Club.’

  ‘Ah, right enough.’

  The climbed into yet another Hansom and Riley gave the cabbie Gifford’s address.

  ‘I dare say he will be at home at this hour,’ Riley said. ‘Parkinson told me that he profited from Kinsley’s investment fund. I should be interested to know what he can tell me about it.’

  Upon arrival at Gifford’s Kensington address they were shown into the drawing room, where Gifford was breaking his fast.

  ‘Lord Riley!’ Gifford, an affable gentleman in his middle years, stood with hand outstretched. ‘An unexpected pleasure.’

  ‘I apologise for the intrusion.’

  Riley introduced Salter and Gifford shook his hand with equal affability.

  ‘Have a seat, gentlemen. I take it this is not a social call.’

  Riley explained the purpose of their visit.

  ‘I read of her ladyship’s death,’ Gifford said. ‘A great pity. I had no idea that she’d been bumped off though. She was a bit of an old harridan, you know. Don’t mean to speak ill of the dead or anything but it’s the truth. I didn’t know her well, but our paths crossed over the years at various social occasions. You know how small our set actually is. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.’

  ‘Except when it comes to murder,’ Salter complained. ‘Then everyone develops a collective case of amnesia.’

  ‘Ah, closing ranks to protect our reputations.’ Gifford shook his head. ‘I suppose we are all guilty of that. Anyway, what can I do to help? I promise not to pretend ignorance and if I can answer your questions, rest assured that I will.’

  ‘Most obliging,’ Riley said, smiling. ‘You invested in Kinsley’s fund, I’m told.’

  Gifford scowled. ‘Told by whom? Kinsley himself, I suppose. It’s meant to be confidential. Still, I don’t mind your knowing. I got in with him at the outset, and my investment was not a large one. I don’t believe in putting all my eggs in one basket, no matter how tempting the proposition. Just as well in Kinsley’s case. It paid well initially, then tailed off. I decided to withdraw my investment when its term came to an end but Kinsley persuaded me to hold on.’

  ‘Ah.’ That didn’t tally with what Riley had been told by Parkinson.

  ‘Kinsley said he was expecting a large influx of funds that would turn things around.’

  ‘Did it materialise?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Actually, yes. About six months ago, but it’s already on the slide again, so this time I will pull out at the end of the term.’

  ‘How can you know that it’s gone down?’ Riley asked.

  Gifford pursed his lips. ‘Lower dividends than predicted paid out late. I’ve had to chase Kinsley for payment. He always has a plausible excuse but the signs are hard to ignore. Shame. Thought I was supporting a good cause and onto a good thing. Have to take risks in order to profit, we all know that.’

  ‘You and Kinsley are personal friends.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say friends.’ Gifford waggled a hand from side to side. ‘We were at school together and I wanted to think that he knew what he was doing. But old school loyalties only go so far. As I say, I shall definitely get out this time.’ Gifford’s head shot up. ‘Hey, you don’t imagine Kinsley bumped the old lady off to get his hands on his wife’s inheritance, do you? Can’t see it myself. Kinsley doesn’t have it in him. Wouldn’t put anything past that wife of his though. Probably shouldn’t say it but she carries a whole raft of chips on her shoulder.’

  ‘Anything specific?’ Riley asked.

  Gifford took a moment to consider. ‘Let’s just say that in his cups once Kinsley told me that he hadn’t been Pamela’s first choice. She’d set her cap at someone else, probably someone higher born, but got thrown over and never recovered from the humiliation. She took Kinsley on the rebound, desperate not to be left on the shelf by all accounts, and never let him forget it.’

  ‘Any idea of the identity of the man who let her down?’ Riley asked, thinking that what he was being told tallied with what he’d already learned regarding that lady’s affairs.

  ‘Sorry, not a clue.’

  ‘Well,’ Salter said, after they’d thanked Gifford and taken their leave. ‘The more we find out, the harder it is to decide who the guilty party is. I really thought it was Miss Sutherland…I still do. She was seen letting a stranger out of the house so it must be her.’

  ‘Come on, Jack.’ Riley slapped his sergeant’s shoulder. ‘Let’s go back to the Yard, compare notes with the others and decide where to go from here.

  Chapter Twelve

  Riley’s team of detectives crowded into his office, notebooks in hand.

  ‘Right, gentlemen,’ Riley said. ‘Let’s set out what we know or suspect so far. Jack, if you please.’

  But before Salter could open his mouth, Sergeant Barton put his head round the door.

  ‘Your man Stout’s here,’ he said.

  ‘Ah, hopefully he’s unearthed something. Send him in please, Barton.’

  Stout entered the room, dressed as flamboyantly as when Riley had last seen him. Salter greeted him with barely concealed mirth, which Stout rose above by ignoring it.

  ‘You have something for me, Stout?’

  ‘I do indeed, my lord. I attempted to get into the Axtons’ private rooms, as you asked. Theatrical types ordinarily sleep late, Mrs Axton wasn’t around and I had seen Axton go out, so I thought the timing perfect. I did not go through with my plan though because I heard voices coming from the rooms. Instead I concealed myself outside, curious to see who would emerge from them.’

  ‘Let me guess, Stout,’ Riley said. ‘Axton himself and Miss Sutherland.’

  If Stout was surprised by Riley’s perspicacity, he showed no sign of it. ‘Precisely. I have subsequently discovered that there is a back entrance to the establishment. Presumably Axton made a sh
ow out of leaving the place so that his activities would not be reported back to his wife by the maids.’

  ‘That Miss Sutherland don’t hold back her favours; I’ll say that much for her,’ Salter said, his upper lip curling disdainfully.

  ‘I only saw the young lady’s face briefly from my hiding place, my lord, but I know artifice when I see it. And I know devotion, too. If I was a betting man, I’d wager that she’s deeply in love with Axton and none too happy about it. I get the impression that emotional attachment does not form part of her strategy to get ahead in the theatre world.’

  Riley nodded, more than willing to accept Stout’s assessment of the situation. ‘And Axton’s feelings for her?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d say he returns the young lady’s affections, my lord.’

  ‘Well, there’s your motive, sir,’ Salter said. ‘We know from our coalman friend that Miss Sutherland let a stranger out of the house early on the morning after the murder. Miss Sutherland wants Axton for herself but he already has a wife. But her inheritance would pass into her husband’s hands and the moment he has it, Miss Sutherland expects him to leave Mrs Axton and make her the focus of his adoration. She ain’t the type to care that he’s already married.’

  ‘Blimey,’ Carter said, scratching his head in evident bemusement. ‘It’s a bit cold-hearted of the girl to take up with Axton’s nephew, in that case.’

  ‘Your theory is a good one, Jack,’ Riley said, ‘but for the fact that Axton was already under Lady Pemberton’s roof, so if it was him she was meeting clandestinely, why the need to let him out?’

  Salter looking scandalised. ‘You’re saying that she had Axton and Clifford there but that weren’t enough for her?’

  ‘I rather suspect that she had been toying with Clifford, who’s a handsome lad and devoted to her, which would be good for her self-esteem. Clifford made the mistake of innocently introducing his intended to his uncle, who has connections in the theatrical world that might help the lady’s career, and who also appears to be a magnet for female attention.’ Riley paused. ‘Clifford is a boy but Axton is very much a man, and has a great deal more to offer an ambitious chit like Miss Sutherland.’

  ‘You think they concocted a plot to kill Lady Pemberton,’ Soames said, vigorously rubbing the back of his neck.

  ‘I think it’s one possibility out of many,’ Riley replied. ‘Neither of them could risk doing the deed themselves in case Lady P woke up. But if she did so and saw a stranger leaning over her, she would assume he was a burglar.’

  ‘One who didn’t steal her things, thereby pinning suspicion on the family,’ Salter pointed out.

  ‘Axton would have told him not to take anything and risk devaluing his wife’s inheritance. As to incriminating others, you can be sure that Axton wouldn’t have left his wife’s bed all night. He assumed the death would appear to be from natural causes, but if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t mind one little bit if suspicion fell on his sisters-in-law. As for Miss Sutherland, no one would suspect her because she has nothing to gain from the old lady’s death.’ Riley turned to Stout. ‘The man seen being let out of the house was small in stature, with dark whiskers, which implies a younger man, and he was dressed in smart evening attire. If he is connected to Miss Sutherland and is another of her devotees, he will appear at the Audition Club at some point. He is unaware that he was seen and assumes he got away with his deed, always supposing he was paid to carry it out. The moment you discover his identity, I need to know about it.’

  ‘Very good, my lord.’

  Stout quietly took his leave.

  ‘Axton and Miss Sutherland are by far our only suspects,’ Riley cautioned. ‘We have learned that Mrs Kinsley was let down and married Kinsley on the rebound, leaving her feeling resentful as a consequence. We need to find out who her previous paramour was and why he jilted her—if indeed he did. Peterson, you spoke to the servants in Lady Pemberton’s household. Is there anyone below stairs who has been in service for a long time?’

  ‘Aye, sir. The cook, Mrs Jordan. Devoted to Lady Pemberton, so she was, and there’s not much she doesn’t know about the family’s affairs.’

  ‘Right, when we’ve finished here go back and have another word with her. See if she knows who Pamela Pemberton, as she was before her marriage, had her heart set on.’

  ‘Will that help, sir?’ Carter asked.

  ‘We shan’t know until we have an answer.’ Riley stretched his arms above his head. ‘You know as well as I do that the smallest piece of information can have far-reaching consequences, and can sometimes be enough to solve a crime.’

  ‘We also know,’ Salter said, ‘that Kinsley’s investment company had a much-needed influx of funds about six months ago. Now that coincides with the time that Lady Pemberton sold her jewels in response to a threat of blackmail. The chief inspector and I don’t hold with coincidences and reckon there has to be more to it than that.’

  ‘How will you find out where the funds came from, sir?’ Peterson asked.

  ‘By talking to Kinsley. If he has nothing to hide then it will be in his best interests to let me know it. Soames, Carter, tomorrow I want you to go to Somerset House. I need you to look up Sir Joseph Pemberton’s birth, marriage and death certificates.’

  ‘What are we looking for, sir?’ Carter asked.

  ‘Any connection to someone with the initial PT,’ Salter told him.

  ‘That person will either be found in Sir Joseph’s history or in Lady Pemberton’s,’ Riley added. ‘Look up Barlow too while you’re at it and let me know if anything seems out of place.’

  ‘What am I missing, Jack?’ Riley asked, when his constables had taken themselves off to complete their other duties.

  ‘Nothing that I can see, sir. We’ve made progress today, after a fashion, but it’s still early days. We’ll get him or her, never you fear.’

  ‘Make enquiries of the bursar at Benslow House College first thing tomorrow, Jack. I specifically need to know if he has set aside places for the two girls living beneath Barlow’s roof—Isolde and Maria. We don’t know their last names but that should be sufficient. Do that before you come here.’

  ‘What now, sir?’

  ‘Now, Jack, I think I’ll have a couple of Sergeant Barton’s uniformed constables bring Kinsley in. He is a weak man and being dragged in here in the middle of the afternoon will unnerve him.’

  ‘I like your way of thinking, sir.’ Salter grinned. ‘I’ll make the arrangements.’

  ‘Do that and let me know when he’s here. Have Barton put him in an interview room. No sense in making him too comfortable.’

  Salter chuckled and went off to speak with Barton.

  Left alone, Riley tried to concentrate upon the pile of Lady Pemberton’s correspondence that had been left on his desk, but his mind kept wandering. His thoughts dwelt upon Amelia, and upon his pleasure at the prospect of fatherhood for a second time. His fears for her safety made him doubly determined to find a safe and comfortable home for them all in the country—which was easier said than done. The moment his family discovered that he was contemplating such a move, they would insist that he move into Chichester Hall, the family’s rambling country estate and the place where Riley had spent his childhood. There was plenty of room for them all and Riley’s mother would argue that Simon should become accustomed to it since he would one day assume the mantle of Marquess of Chichester.

  But Riley couldn’t abide the thought of living beneath the same roof as his sister-in-law. Although the undeserved animosity she had always shown towards Riley had diminished somewhat following Simon’s safe delivery, as mistress of the house she still wouldn’t be able to prevent herself from lording it over them all. Since Riley would have to leave Amelia to her not-so-tender mercies while he worked in London, the idea was abhorrent to him. Kent was a lot closer to the capital and he would use the efficiency of the railways in that county as an excuse to settle there.

  With an effort, he returned his thoughts to Lady Pem
berton’s murder, worried that he wouldn’t be able to bring the perpetrator to justice because he had no way of knowing which daughter had carried out the crime—if indeed any of them had. He hated failure but unless the murderer was stupid enough to give herself away somehow, she would likely get away with it and that would stick in Riley’s craw. Fortunately, even the cleverest of murderers slipped up eventually, if sufficient pressure was brought to bear. Since the perpetrator had assumed that the crime would be put down to natural causes, she must already be feeling unsettled. Riley fully intended that she should remain that way.

  Salter put his head around the door what seemed like five minutes after he’d quit the room. Glancing at his half-hunter, which he extracted from his waistcoat pocket, Riley was surprised to see that over an hour had elapsed.

  ‘Kinsley’s here, and he ain’t too happy to have been dragged in. Demanding to see you, so he is.’

  ‘Then he will get his wish,’ Riley replied, standing. ‘Come along, Jack. Time for you to shine.’

  Salter rubbed his hands together with unmitigated glee. ‘Let me at ’im!’

  Riley and Salter entered the interview room in which Kinsley had been put. The man was red in the face with indignation, but his blustering didn’t entirely hide his fear. Riley tried not to read too much into that. Being frogmarched into Scotland Yard had been known to frighten even the most hardened of criminals.

  ‘I say, Lord Riley.’ Kinsley jumped to his feet. ‘What the devil is the meaning of this outrage? Embarrassing me by dragging me from my workplace like a common criminal. If you wanted to speak to me, you could have done me the courtesy of calling upon me. I’ve told you everything I know, which is precious little.’

  Riley motioned the uniformed constable who had been watching over Kinsley from the room. Salter took his place against the wall and cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Riley knew that there was nothing he enjoyed more than ruffling the feathers of those whom he considered to be holding something back from one of their investigations; especially if that person happened to consider himself Salter’s better.