Death of a Footman (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 8) Page 15

  ‘You will find it,’ Amelia said, squeezing his hand. ‘You always do.’

  ‘Ezra Dawson was having a steamy affair with his employer, but apparently he also had a wealthy woman whom he intended to marry tucked away in Clapham, and who no one knows anything about. Well, no one other than Clapham’s leading criminal, who was in partnership with Ezra.’

  ‘Do you believe him, this criminal, or is he trying to divert your attention away from the hub of the enquiry?’

  ‘A very good question.’ Riley paused to consider his response to it. ‘And one that this excellent burgundy was helping me to contemplate. Reggie Lane is a bit of a character, and he’s not a good person, but I don’t think he’d deliberately try to get on my bad side. He just wants me to leave him alone so that he can continue with his dishonest ways without interference. I might be wrong about that, of course, but sometimes instinct is all I have to go on.’

  ‘You are thinking, I suppose, that if one lady found out about the other then sparks would fly. You would then arrest the guilty party, clear up your case and remove your scrutiny from this man’s territory.’

  ‘As always, my love, our thoughts are perfectly attuned. A lady was seen arguing with Ezra in a tavern in Clapham just before he was killed. I naturally assumed that she had confronted him and put something in his drink to debilitate him so that her accomplice could finish him off. But now I am more inclined to think that since Ezra appeared to engender such total adoration in his female companions, the wronged party would be more likely to get rid of her rival rather than the man she loved.’

  ‘Unless she had already confronted him and he told her that he’d settled upon her rival.’ Amelia smiled. ‘You know what they say about women scorned, and I can assure you that there is truth in it. Try pushing me aside and you will find out for yourself.’

  Riley reached for his wife’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, my love, because I can’t seem to get enough of you.’

  ‘Well then,’ she said, treating him to an angelic smile, ‘I shall just have to make the best of that situation.’

  Riley smiled too. ‘Are we dining at home tonight?’

  ‘No, we are invited to dinner with Jake and Olivia. Had you forgotten?’

  ‘Yes, but I won’t mind stirring myself for their sakes.’

  ‘They will want to know all about the case.’

  ‘And they might even offer some suggestions that hadn’t occurred to me. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘We have company,’ Amelia said, glancing over her shoulder when Agnes appeared with their son clasped in her arms. He wriggled to get free as soon as he saw Riley, who reached up for him. Bruno barked with excitement and flapped his tail.

  ‘You and Simon are the sort of company I will never tire of,’ he said, tossing his son in his arms. ‘And you,’ he added, laughing when Bruno barked.

  ‘Just as well, since you are stuck with us all,’ Amelia replied, placing a hand protectively over her still flat stomach. ‘You haven’t asked how it went in Clapham today with Sophia.’

  ‘Of course. You have had a busy day.’

  ‘And worthwhile. I must say that your sergeant’s daughter is very talented and your niece, as I’m sure you can imagine, is a very enthusiastic model.’

  Riley chuckled as he jiggled Simon on his knee. ‘I am sure of it. I hope it didn’t cause any difficulties with my mother.’

  ‘She complained, naturally, but there was no real malice to her objections. Anyway, Maureen has designed the most unusual headwear. A satin evening toque trimmed with tasteful plumes and ruched velvet. It isn’t finished yet, but Sophia modelled it anyway. You should have seen her, Riley, striding up and down that workroom with the half-finished hat on her head, smiling and laughing and bringing sunshine into the place. Even the stern woman who runs the place and whom everyone refers to as madam and whom they all appear to be terrified of seemed enchanted with her.’

  ‘Then I am glad. It will give Maureen the boost she needs. If what you say about her is true, she is wasted in Clapham.’

  ‘Well, I made sure madam overheard me telling Maureen that I would definitely be ordering one of her creations for myself and advising my friends to do the same.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Riley leaned across to kiss her. ‘You are now a trendsetter.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that, but I am pleased to lend my modest approval to Maureen’s efforts.’

  Chapter Ten

  Riley enjoyed his evening, relaxing in the undemanding company of his oldest friends. The conversation naturally turned towards his latest investigation. Olivia in particular was intrigued by the tawdry particulars. Jake didn’t know the family and was unable to suggest any helpful avenues for Riley to explore. Olivia hinted at the reasons for Ida’s compromised reputation, having heard rumours about Buckingham at the time, but admitted that it was mostly speculation and educated guesswork on her part. Riley didn’t tell her that she had got it right.

  He arrived at Scotland Yard the following morning invigorated. His doubts about his ability to get to the bottom of things had been eradicated and he was ready to attack the case with fresh determination. He dealt with his other inspectors’ developments quickly and then caught the train to Clapham, meeting Salter outside the Plough at the agreed time.

  ‘Blimey, sir,’ Salter said, as soon as he saw Riley. ‘Lady Riley and your niece have well and truly made sure that my Maureen’s star is in the ascendency. Seems madam didn’t snap at her for the rest of the day after such important ladies honoured her premises with a visit, and that’s unheard of.’

  Riley smiled. ‘I’m told that your daughter has talent. Amelia and Sophia were enchanted by what they saw.’

  ‘Well, we’re much obliged to you, I’m sure. Mrs Salter will dine out on the story for weeks, if not months,’ he added.

  ‘Then I am glad for her sake.’

  Salter rubbed his hands together. ‘Afraid I can’t return the favour by giving you any good news resulting from my investigations in here last night.’ He jerked a thumb in the direction of the tavern. ‘Most of the regulars remember Ezra being in there. They reckon he was larger than life and difficult to overlook. A few remember a woman too, but the descriptions vary. She was anything from a dwarf to a giant. Twenty to fifty. ’Bout the only thing they did agree on is that she wore dark clothes and a hat with a veil and that she was having a right old go at Ezra about something, but he just laughed at her.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Jack, I didn’t seriously expect to get anything from it, but the ground needed to be covered.’ He turned towards the tavern. ‘Right, shall we go and have another little chat with Bishop?’

  ‘By all means.’

  ‘You again,’ Bishop said, looking up from polishing his beer taps. There were no customers this early in the day, but Riley knew that they would start to trickle in soon and that Bishop would want them out of the place before then. ‘What do you want now? You’re ruining my trade, Jack. In here last night bothering honest folk with questions and now back again this morning.’

  ‘And we will keep coming back until we get to the bottom of things,’ Salter told him. ‘The chief inspector has questions for you, so I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head and come round this side of the bar so that he can talk to you. Otherwise, I might feel tempted to have someone come and check the strength of your ale, just to make sure it ain’t being watered down.’

  ‘Here, you can’t go making accusations like that with no evidence to back ’em up.’ Bishop pushed out his chest, looking highly affronted. ‘My customers would lynch me if they even suspected they were being diddled, which they ain’t.’

  ‘It’s in your best interests to help us then,’ Salter pointed out with his customary, down to earth logic. ‘Course, if you’d prefer, I could have a couple of uniformed constables come in here and frogmarch you up to Scotland Yard for questioning, right in front of the customers you hold so de
ar.’

  ‘Yeah, all right.’ Bishop put his polishing cloth aside and took a seat across from Riley in the otherwise empty taproom. ‘What do you wanna know?’ he asked.

  ‘You are aware that Ezra, or John Dawson as you’d know him, was planning to open a sporting club?’ Riley asked.

  Bishop gave a grudging nod. ‘Yeah, all right, I did hear the odd rumour.’

  ‘I imagine there isn’t much that happens around these parts that you don’t get to hear about, one way or another.’

  ‘I’m a bit like a priest, Chief Inspector. I hear things but I know better than to spread rumours. I wouldn’t stay in business for long if I didn’t know how to keep me mouth shut and me opinions to meself.’

  ‘It won’t surprise you to learn then, that John was recruiting pretty girls to act as hostesses in his club.’

  ‘And we’ve yet to find a girl who didn’t jump at the chance,’ Salter added.

  ‘What about it?’ Bishop asked, scowling in a furtive manner.

  ‘Your daughter was approached. She wanted to take the position and you were strongly opposed to the idea,’ Riley said, making it a statement of fact rather than a question. ‘You argued about it.’

  ‘How the devil did you…’ Bishop stopped abruptly and scratched his head. ‘Well yeah, he filled her head with tales of glamour and easy money, but I knew what would be expected of her. It would be a damned sight more than serving drinks and looking good, that’s for sure. I tried to make her understand that but Sal weren’t having none of it.’

  ‘She won’t now that Dawson’s dead; killed immediately after leaving your premises,’ Riley said, his voice hardening.

  ‘I can see how it looks, which is why I didn’t admit to knowing about the club, but I didn’t leave this room on the night in question until after the doors were closed. Ask anyone.’ Bishop glowered at Salter. ‘Perhaps that’s what you should have been asking when you were in here last night, disturbing my regulars, if it’s me you think killed him. Despite appearances to the contrary, I ain’t daft. I won’t pretend to be sorry he’s gone but if I wanted to kill him, I’ve got more sense than to do it outside me own premises and bring suspicion down on meself.’

  ‘Perhaps, but his demise was awfully convenient from your perspective,’ Riley remarked. ‘Surely you can see that.’

  ‘True, I can’t deny it. All I have to deal with now is a broken-hearted daughter, who’s sulking and not speaking to me, like it was my fault or somefink. But she’ll get over it and, more to the point, there won’t be no questions hangin’ over her reputation.’

  Salter nodded and Riley could see that his sergeant felt some sympathy for Bishop’s position. As the father of impressionable young daughters himself, it was easy for Riley to understand his sergeant’s position.

  ‘Did you hear any rumours about Dawson being engaged to be married?’ Riley asked.

  Bishop blinked. ‘Not a dicky bird,’ he replied without hesitation, brightening up immediately. ‘Blimey, that would have sent half the female population of Clapham into mourning if it was public knowledge. Are you sure about your facts?’

  ‘No,’ Riley told him. ‘It’s just a suggestion that was made to us by someone we spoke to. I would prefer it if you kept it to yourself for now.’

  ‘Right you are. The last thing I want to do is upset my Sal any more than what she already is. Now that the blaggard’s dead it don’t do no harm for her to think she was the love of his life.’ He snorted. ‘Daft bint!’

  ‘Very well,’ Riley said in a mild tone. ‘But it would help your case no end if you could tell me more about the woman with whom Dawson was seen in conversation on the night in question. We can’t get an accurate description but urgently need to speak with her. You just said yourself that you hear and see everything in this place, so what can you tell us about her?’

  ‘She was average height, thin with a sharp nose. Couldn’t see the colour of her hair or her eyes. It was dark in here and she wore a hat with a veil. But I could tell that they were arguing. Well, she was annoyed about something, but John kept his head and it looked like he was trying to calm her down an’ all.’ Bishop spread his hands. ‘That’s honestly all I saw.’

  ‘Very well. Thank you.’ Riley stood. ‘That will be all for now but we may have more questions and, just so that you are aware, I am still not entirely satisfied that you didn’t kill the man in a desperate attempt to protect your daughter.’

  ‘Well,’ Bishop replied, folding muscular arms across his torso. ‘When you get some evidence, feel free to come back, but you won’t find any, ’cause there ain’t none to be had.’

  ‘Did you believe him, sir?’ Salter asked as they left the tavern.

  ‘On balance, I think I probably did. But then again, is there anything a father wouldn’t do to protect a vulnerable daughter?’

  ‘I hope I never have to find out, sir.’

  ‘Amen to that, Jack.’

  ‘Where to now, guv’nor?’

  ‘I need to speak with Sam Dawson.’

  ‘We’ll find him at his work and I still recognise enough of the old Clapham to know where that is.’

  ‘There does seem to be a population boom,’ Riley remarked, glancing down the crowded street.

  ‘Houses springing up overnight like mushrooms. Accommodation for London’s clerks and the middle classes who work in the city.’ Salter sniffed. ‘I used to know almost everyone around these parts by sight. Now I’m hard pushed to recognise anybody. Stolen the heart of the place, so it has, all this building malarkey. D’you know, they even dug up the old lavender fields to make way for bricks and mortar. It don’t seem right.’

  ‘People have to live somewhere, Jack.’

  ‘Aye well, I suppose…’

  ‘Sir!’ They looked up to see Peterson rushing towards them. ‘Lord Rothsmere’s butler confirms that Gideon was there until about eleven.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Riley said. ‘And we know he was with his mistress soon after that, so he’s in the clear. Did you have any luck tracking down Verity’s footman?’

  ‘Sorry, sir. It’s his day off.’

  ‘Ah, it’s too much to hope that everything would go right for us.’ Riley sighed. ‘Right, Peterson, go and find Carter and Soames down by the common and help them to enquire at the big houses. We’re looking, as you know, for the reclusive lady who was supposedly engaged to be married to Ezra.’

  ‘Right you are, sir.’

  Riley and Salter made their way to the terrace of houses being built on what had once been farmland on the edge of Clapham.

  ‘Wouldn’t mind one myself,’ Salter said. ‘At least they have indoor plumbing. Can’t afford it on my pay, though.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t approve of the new housing, Jack.’

  Salter scrunched up his features. ‘Don’t mean I wouldn’t live in one if I could.’

  An enquiry at the shack that served as an office produced a tirade from the site manager.

  ‘They sent detectives then,’ he said, waving his arms about. ‘About time an’ all.’

  ‘I’m not with you,’ Salter said.

  The manager, a large man with a shock of white hair, frowned. The gesture caused his bushy brown eyebrows to draw together like a caterpillar crawling across his forehead. ‘Lord have mercy,’ he muttered.

  ‘Have the goodness to explain why you think we are here,’ Riley said in an impatient, clipped tone.

  ‘The thefts,’ he said patiently, as though speaking to an imbecile.

  ‘We are Scotland Yard detectives,’ Salter replied. ‘Stuff like that needs to be reported to the local police.’

  ‘I have reported it. Repeatedly. They keep promising to do something about it but sod all seems to happen and my supplies continue to evaporate. I even employed a night watchman, but nothing changed. I reckon he falls asleep on the job and the thieving bastards nick my stuff while he snores. It’s hopeless.’

  ‘We shall see what we can do for you,’
Riley assured him. ‘In the meantime, we would appreciate a word with Sam Dawson.’

  The manager narrowed his eyes. ‘Why? What’s he done?’

  ‘None of your business,’ Salter replied. ‘Just send for him and be quick about it.’

  The manager continued to protest but eventually sent for Sam, emphasising that he couldn’t be kept from his work for long. The manager had a schedule to keep to and he didn’t need any distractions from it. Riley refrained from pointing out that the interview would take as long as it took and asked the manager to give them some privacy. He did so, still grumbling as he left the hut, shouting at some hapless apprentice who had the misfortune to cross his path.

  Sam appeared after a few minutes, scowling and grimy.

  ‘You found who killed my wastrel of a brother yet?’ he asked by way of greeting, looking to Riley as though he was on edge. He swiped a beefy forearm across his brow and slumped against a wall, causing the flimsy structure to wobble. Riley hoped that their permanent structures were of better quality. ‘Can’t think why else you’d want to speak to me. I’ve told you all I knew about his life.’

  ‘Did you know that your brother was engaged to be married?’ Riley asked.

  Sam guffawed. ‘Never! He weren’t the marrying type. Didn’t know how to be faithful. Didn’t see no point in it. Ma would have loved to see her blue-eyed boy settled,’ he added, a bitter edge to his voice, ‘but it weren’t gonna happen. He told me once that he failed to see the point in sticking to one when he could play the field and never want for variety.’

  ‘You sound envious,’ Riley said.

  Sam looked at the floor and shrugged one beefy shoulder. ‘He reckoned he’d never seen a marriage that didn’t turn sour.’

  ‘Was he suggesting that applied in your case?’

  ‘Course not.’ But Sam glanced away and Riley knew that he’d struck a chord.

  ‘About his proposal for a sporting club.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Sam kicked at a loose floorboard. ‘What of it?’