Social Graces (Victorian Vigilantes Book 5) Read online

  ‘I have met her. She is a formidable woman and won’t let the tattle-mongers wear her down. But I cannot find it in my heart to feel much sympathy for her. She should have better control over her husband.’ She leaned up again and shook a finger beneath Jake’s nose. ‘Be warned, if you were to turn your attentions to an actress I would come after you with a blunt pair of scissors.’

  Jake winced. ‘Why would I take an interest in an actress? I have everything I could possibly want beneath this roof. In this room.’ He kissed the end of Olivia’s nose. ‘In this bed.’

  ‘That is the correct response,’ Olivia said serenely. ‘I shall stop worrying about Riley and try to keep Sophia occupied so that she doesn’t fret. Mind you, I think Otto would make a better job of distracting her.’

  Jake gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘Don’t interfere!’ he admonished.

  ‘I was merely making an observation,’ she replied with an innocent smile.

  ‘I am sorry to disappoint you but I need Otto with me tomorrow. It’s time to have Barton tell us the truth.’

  ‘Poor Barton. He doesn’t stand a chance. I almost feel sorry for him.’

  ‘Poor Barton be damned! The man lied to me and I dislike being taken for a fool. Besides, if Chichester didn’t kill Connie then he is the next most likely suspect on my list.’

  ‘Are you sure Woodford is innocent? After all, you only have his word for it that he and Connie were on the point of marrying.’

  ‘Everything Chichester told us tonight bears out Woodford’s account. Connie tried to end the affair and attempted to return the earrings. I will have Parker check out Woodford’s alibi, but I will be astonished if he lied.’

  ‘Actually, he could easily have done so. If he was as much in love and as worried about Connie as he implied to you, I imagine he would have found it hard to keep away and would have wanted to know how the news was taken. He knew Chichester could be violent and wanted to make sure Connie had survived the confrontation. But when he arrived at her apartment she told him that she couldn’t go through with it. She felt honour bound to fulfil her commitment to Barton and so the engagement was off.’

  ‘Why on earth would she do that?’

  ‘Because everyone who knew her agrees that she had a conscience. She stuck with Barton because she believed she had him to thank for getting her noticed by the right people, and her contract with him still have five years to run. She was going to tour with Felsham because Barton said she owed it to him. She felt obligated to Chichester because of everything he had done for her, even investing in theatrical productions on condition that she took leading roles in them. Tyrell had moved into the same building as her. A constant reminder that they had started out together and sworn to look out for one another.’ Olivia sighed. ‘All that pressure on a woman who felt she didn’t deserve the success that she had achieved through her own talent. Would she really be able to live with herself if she let all those people down, simply so that she could be happy with the man she loved?’

  ‘Damn!’ Jake rewarded Olivia with another kiss. ‘You make a persuasive argument. Even so, if Woodford was lying then I’m losing my touch.’

  Olivia sent him a sultry smile. ‘As far as I am concerned, your touch is still in perfect working order.’

  Jake chuckled. ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Don’t doubt your instincts, Jake,’ Olivia said somewhat breathlessly when he finally stopped kissing her and let her up for air. ‘You said earlier that they seldom let you down and I’m sure you are right in this case. I was simply playing devil’s advocate.’

  ‘Even so, I suppose Woodford’s name needs to go back on the list of suspects.’

  ‘Put it at the bottom,’ Olivia replied, grasping Jake’s neck, impatient for him to finish what he had started.

  ***

  Otto and Jake made Barton their first port of call the following morning.

  ‘What if Tyrell makes a run for it?’ Otto asked. ‘Shouldn’t we go to him first and make sure he’s redeemed the earrings? I’ll wager he’s in dun territory and he might decide to cut his losses and scarper.’

  Jake shook his head. ‘He won’t leave. His ambition will prevent him. He still thinks it’s simply a matter of time before he’s discovered and he can’t be seen if he’s in hiding.’

  ‘Which is why he was so keen to have Connie join Felsham’s company for a season.’

  ‘Probably. It doesn’t seem to have occurred to him that a second-rate actor of his dubious ability would become invisible when seen beside Connie.’ Jake shrugged. ‘There’s arrogance for you. Anyway, I think that is why he moved into her building, just to keep the pressure on—and doubtless borrow money from her from time to time. I doubt whether Connie would have refused him. But if he discovered that she had decided against touring with Felsham, all his hopes and ambitions would have crashed down in flames.’ Jake looked uncompromisingly grim. ‘There’s no saying what form his revenge might have taken under those circumstances.’

  ‘But he didn’t know. Woodford told us that he was going to enlighten Felsham once Connie had dealt with Barton and Chichester.’

  ‘True, but I wouldn’t put it past Tyrell to have listened at Connie’s door, or put a glass to the adjoining wall, when she gave Chichester his marching orders.’ Jake pulled his hat lower over his eyes. ‘We keep trying to find someone who saw the killer enter the building. What’s to say he wasn’t there all along?’

  Otto ground his jaw and gave a terse nod. ‘All the more reason for him to run.’

  ‘Well, if he does, we shall have solved Dowd’s case for him. He won’t be hard to find. He doesn’t have it in him to fade into the woodwork. He’s flamboyant, an extrovert. All actors are, and he won’t be able to keep that trait concealed for long.’

  ‘Right. Well, I suppose you know what you’re about.’ Otto mused. ‘I’m concerned about Miss Larson,’ he said. ‘I think the enormity of what happened to her sister is only just beginning to dawn on her. Now that it has, she’s thirsting for revenge and I’m worried that she might do something rash.’

  Jake smiled. ‘Why do you think I asked her to write that article? It will keep her mind off what we are doing. Besides, Olivia has befriended her and won’t allow her to wallow.’

  ‘Yes, I can quite see that.’ Otto sighed and concentrated his attention upon the changing scenery as the carriage rattled along. ‘I expect I’m worrying needlessly. Besides, she is not my responsibility.’

  But Otto still had a nagging suspicion that Sophia would lose patience and take matters into her own delicate hands. He had sensed a restlessness in her the previous night. Passivity clearly didn’t sit well with her when there was every chance her sister’s killer might get away with his crime.

  The carriage came to a halt outside Barton’s residence, bringing Otto’s introspective thoughts to an end. Otto made to alight from it but Jake’s hand on his arm prevented him from moving.

  ‘Wait,’ Jake said tersely. ‘Look. Recognise anyone?’

  Otto followed the direction of Jake’s gaze and noticed a uniformed constable he had seen more than once giving evidence at the Old Bailey—a constable Otto found reliable and honest. He had just vacated Barton’s residence. ‘That’s Constable Salter,’ he said. ‘He’s a good man and he won’t let anyone feed him a line.’

  ‘That’s very good timing from our point of view,’ Jake added, leaving the carriage once the policeman had disappeared. ‘If Barton has something to hide, a visit from the police will have rattled him.’

  Otto grinned. ‘And we are about to rattle him a little more.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  The same maid opened the door. She looked harried and told them her master was not at home. Jake pushed the door wide and strode into the hallway, Otto in his wake.

  ‘Begging pardon, sir, you can’t just—’

  ‘Tell him we are here,’ Jake said in an authoritative tone that sent the maid scuttling in the direction of Barton’s office.
/>   The girl returned a short time later and asked them to follow her. Barton, when they entered his private domain, presented a very different picture to the dapper, well turned out individual they had met on their previous visit. He looked as though he hadn’t slept for a week. His hair was dishevelled, his whiskers untrimmed and his complexion sallow. The skin beneath his eyes sagged and his clothes were rumpled. He wore no coat or tie and his waistcoat was incorrectly buttoned. Most alarmingly, at only ten in the morning his breath smelt of alcohol.

  ‘Can’t a man grieve in peace?’ He sent them a bleary-eyed look of disapproval. ‘What do you want this time?’

  ‘A few truthful answers would be appreciated,’ Jake replied calmly.

  ‘I told you everything I know. Not that I needed to. You have no authority.’

  ‘Did you tell Constable Salter the same thing that you told us?’ Otto asked.

  ‘Of course.’ He sat behind his desk, sullen, defensive. ‘Unlike you, he seemed to take me at my word. Besides, he only came to get me to sign the statement I’d already given, not to cross-question me like a common criminal.’

  ‘And unlike him,’ Jake replied, at edge to his voice, ‘we were not born yesterday. Now, I will ask you again, when did you last see Miss Saville?’

  Barton settled an unfocused gaze upon Jake, as though trying to decide how much he already knew and what he could get away with telling him. Otto imagined that his brain would not be at his sharpest, given that it was already befuddled by brandy, and hoped that his addled wits would cause him to contradict himself. The man might only be guilty of grieving, but that was no reason to fall apart quite so comprehensively—at least not in front of strangers. Otto continued to regard him speculatively, increasingly convinced that Barton’s aggression was down to nerves. But the question was, what did he have to be so nervous about?

  ‘She came here to see me in the afternoon on the day before she died, since you insist upon knowing.’

  ‘There, that was not so difficult, was it?’ Jake said in what Otto knew to be a deliberately condescending tone. ‘Why did you not tell us the truth the first time you were asked?’

  Barton shrugged. ‘It didn’t seem important. Our business was private and had no bearing upon her death. She was seen alive when she performed in front of a full theatre later that day so I couldn’t have killed her here and then taken her body back to her apartment, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘Certainly you could not have,’ Jake agreed. ‘That would have been fraught with risk and you would never have got away with it unseen. Better to simply dump her body in the river and be done with it.’

  Barton flinched. ‘Don’t be so damned offensive.’

  ‘Very well.’ Jake shifted his position, taking his time to adjust his limbs to his satisfaction. It was a ploy that Otto had already seen him employ several times before. It kept Barton waiting and increased the tension in the room, making him more anxious than he already was, as evidenced by the nervous jiggling of one knee. ‘Now then, about your private business. How did you feel when Connie told you that she no longer required your services as an agent?’

  ‘What?’ Barton scratched his head, disturbing his already dishevelled hair and leaving several strands standing on end. ‘How the devil did you…’ His words trailed to a halt, as though he belatedly realised he had admitted too much.

  ‘How did we know that she’d had enough of being manipulated by you?’

  ‘I resent that!’ Barton leapt awkwardly to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. It hit the wall behind him, leaving a dent in the plasterwork. ‘I never manipulated Connie. I adored her and only had her best interests at heart.’

  ‘Sit down, calm down and try again,’ Jake returned. ‘We have seen Felsham’s operation and can’t begin to understand how Connie’s association with it would have enhanced her career prospects in any way.’

  ‘What hold does Felsham have over you?’ Otto asked, his voice the gently persuasive one Isaac had trained him to use with sympathetic witnesses. ‘We can’t help you unless you tell us everything. At the moment, you see, you are the prime suspect in Connie’s murder. If she left you, you not only lost your most prestigious client but also control over the woman you loved. From that perspective you must see how awkward it will look for you once the police are told the truth.’

  ‘I did love her,’ Barton said, dropping his head into his splayed hands and sobbing. ‘That much is true. I loved and admired her, and worshipped the ground she walked on. Don’t you see that I wanted to protect her? Keep her safe in the shark-infested waters of the theatre world. She was far too trusting for her own good, and everyone was out to exploit her. Everyone wanted a part of her, and I needed to look out for her interests.’ He reached for the brandy glass on his desk and knocked back its contents with one swallow. ‘Oh, I know she didn’t love me, probably never would. Not in the intense, all-encompassing way that I loved her—but even so, I thought that in time, perhaps….’

  ‘And then she came to you and said she was in love with someone else. That must have come as a devastating blow.’

  He shook his head. ‘You have no idea.’ He reached for his glass again and blinked in surprise when he discovered it was empty. He cast a longing glance towards the half-empty decanter on the sideboard but decided against getting up to refill his glass.

  ‘Did she tell you whom she had lost her heart to?’ Jake asked.

  ‘No, but it wasn’t hard for me to guess,’ Barton said bitterly. ‘Woodford was hanging round her all the time and she seemed to encourage him. He’s handsome, has made a bit of a name for himself as an agent and he’s a lot younger than me. I could see the attraction and couldn’t complete on any level, but—’

  ‘But you were furious, after all you had done for her, that she would even consider being so disloyal,’ Jake added, his tone harsh.

  ‘I was upset, I’ll grant you. It came as a terrible shock. I had absolutely no idea that she and Woodford were that intimate. It was bad enough that Chichester could paw her whenever the fancy took him, but at least I knew that Connie had no feelings for him...’

  Another series of racking sobs rendered Barton’s next words undecipherable. Jake and Otto waited for him to regain a modicum of composure and then the questioning recommenced.

  ‘She left here alive and well,’ Jake said. ‘We accept your word for that. Whether you mulled over the betrayal, drank yourself into a stupor—‘

  ‘I do not ordinarily touch strong spirits,’ Barton protested feebly.

  ‘Which means they will muddle your thinking that much more easily, so here is what I suspect happened when you started imbibing. You locked yourself away in this room, nursing your grievances and your hurt pride. Drowning your sorrows.’ Jake nodded to the half empty brandy decanter and then to the glass that Barton had knocked over in his agitation. It lay on its side, dripping the remnants of the brandy it had recently contained onto the blotter. ‘And the more you drank, the angrier you became. How dare she do this to you! You had made her what she was and could destroy her just as easily. And so the logical thing to do was to go and see her, somehow make her see reason, otherwise…’ Jake paused and rested his index finger beneath his chin. ‘Otherwise what?’

  ‘I did not go to see her!’ Barton yelled. ‘How many more times do I have to say it? Ask my maid if you doubt me. She lives in and will be able to tell you that I returned from watching her performance and was here all night.’ He lowered his head. ‘I passed out, insensible with brandy, at this desk if you must know, and woke up here fully clothed the following morning. I was disgusted with myself for losing control.’ He sighed. ‘And then I heard the terrible news. I was here, as you say, nursing my grievances, oblivious to the fact that my beloved Connie was having the life throttled out of her.’ He shook his head and sent fresh tears flying off his cheeks. ‘I shall never forgive myself for failing her. Never! I told her…I warned her about Chichester. About living in that apa
rtment house where she had no real privacy.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Otto asked.

  ‘What?’ He looked momentarily confused. ‘Oh, that man Stoker, he was a snoop.’

  ‘And you paid him to snoop on Connie?’ Jake said, disgust in his voice.

  ‘I paid him to make sure she was safe and to let me know if anyone threatened her. I told you already, I worried about her living there. Chichester should have put her somewhere safer. God alone knows, he had the blunt.’

  ‘Did you tell Felsham that Connie planned to decamp?’ Jake asked.

  ‘No, I…’ But Barton’s bloodshot eyes, wide with fear, told a different story. Jake and Otto levelled identical stares upon him and said nothing, waiting for Barton to fill the heavy silence. ‘Damn it, the man has a nose for trouble! He turned up at the theatre that night, and joined me to watch Connie perform. I was not expecting him, he could see that I was distracted, and…’

  ‘So you told him?’ Jake looked as bewildered as Otto felt. ‘Why, if you were convinced that she would have a change of heart?’

  ‘I don’t know. I wish I did. He caught me at a low ebb, I suppose. I was still in shock. He told me to sort it out.’ Barton straightened up and fixed Jake with what was probably supposed to be an intimidating look. It might be effective when levelled at aspiring actors but Otto could have told him that it would be wasted on Jake. ‘Now,’ he said, straightening his shoulders. ‘I have said all I have to say on the matter. I didn’t kill Connie and since you cannot possibly have any proof that says otherwise, I shall thank you to leave me to my grief.’

  At a nod from Jake, both men stood and left the room without another word.

  ‘Did you believe him?’ Otto asked as they got back in the carriage.

  ‘Barely a word of it,’ Jake replied. ‘He’s hiding something, and he’s afraid of something or someone too.’

  ‘I agree. And he didn’t tell us what hold Felsham has over him. Do you suppose it’s him he is afraid of?’