Death of a Footman (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 8) Read online

  Riley frowned. Maureen was Salter’s oldest child. She’d be fifteen now, and worked as an apprentice to a local milliner. Salter, Riley knew, had fought against his daughter’s determination to pursue a career in that profession, given that it was widely connected to prostitution. But Maureen showed so much talent and had been so determined to pursue her dream that Salter eventually relented, partly because his wife took their daughter’s side. Even so, he’d insisted upon her serving her indentures in Clapham and returning home every evening.

  ‘Dawson somehow got himself a position in a grand house as a footman, and he comes back to Clapham every week to visit his ma, flaunting his success in the faces of his brothers and his old friends. Well,’ Salter said, rubbing his hands together, ‘it seems that one of them took exception to him carrying on like he was royalty.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Lord above knows how he managed to get himself such a sought-after job. He wouldn’t have had any references, seeing as how he hadn’t felt inclined to indulge in gainful employment before that time, but still…’

  ‘Well then, Jack, since you have seen the victim, you’d best give Carter and Soames their instructions and then come with me to call on Lady Randall. You can decide whether we’ve found her servant.’

  Riley reached for his hat and he and Salter left the station in a hackney a short time later, bound for Portman Square.

  ‘What do I need to know about Lady Randall, sir?’ Salter asked, as they settled back in the conveyance, which made rapid progress through the quiet streets. Come the season, those same streets would be jam-packed, but at present the summer heat blanketed London in an air of indolence, and people were putting off unnecessary travel until tomorrow.

  ‘An interesting character,’ Riley replied, chuckling. ‘And one of whose conduct you will not approve.’

  Salter sniffed. ‘Ah, one of them.’

  ‘Ida Brigdon, as she was before her marriage, is the only child of a wealthy industrialist. She inherited a significant fortune upon his death.’

  ‘And married one of your lot,’ Salter said with another disapproving sniff.

  ‘Actually, she married a senior civil servant. Philip Randall is widely recognised as a man of great intellect who possesses an incisive political brain. He was knighted for services rendered to the crown. His shrewd advice for the drafting of the 1870 Elementary Education Act was crucial in seeing it passed into law, and many children from the poorest backgrounds stand to benefit from his wisdom.’

  ‘Right, that sounds worthwhile, but why did this wealthy socialite marry a civil servant? I should have thought she’d have bagged herself an earl, at the very least. Unless she looks like the back end of a horse, of course. But even then, money talks…’

  ‘I believe there was something in the lady’s background that even the poorest of aristocrats was unable to overlook.’

  ‘Ah, your lot do tend to stick together in order to maintain standards. Still an’ all, I’m surprised the lady didn’t receive offers.’

  ‘Clearly none that were acceptable to her.’ Riley grinned. ‘And just so that you know, she was and still is something of a beauty. There is nothing I can say that will prepare you to meet Lady Randall. You will just have to exercise some patience and make up your own mind about her.’

  ‘Surprised she reported a footman missing herself, or even noticed his absence,’ Salter said after a short pause. ‘Isn’t it a butler’s duty to keep track of the household staff?’

  ‘Usually, yes, but this is no ordinary household. Anyway, we shall soon know.’

  The cab rattled to a halt outside a crescent-shaped row of tall, well-maintained townhouses. Riley paid the cabbie, who whipped up his tired horse and cut across traffic to collect another fare on the other side of the street before an approaching cab could beat him to the spoils. A short altercation ensued, blithely ignored by the victor, who drove off with a lady installed in his hansom.

  ‘This won’t be the first house of this type we’ve been in recently,’ Salter said, looking up at the rows of windows. ‘It’s getting to be a habit.’

  ‘Land is expensive in this increasingly crowded capital of ours, Salter, so properties are built upwards rather than expanding sideways. The Americans are setting the trend, I believe.’ Riley thought of Ashdown, its tranquil setting and sprawling grounds, and felt a pang of impatience. He wanted to be there now, away from the noise and pollution of the city, with Amelia at his side under the shade of the big maple as Simon chased the dog down the length of the garden.

  The two detectives mounted the steps and Salter wielded the knocker. Their summons was answered almost immediately by an imposing butler. He glanced at Riley, appeared to realise who he was, presumably because he’d been told to expect him, and opened the door wider to offer them access.

  ‘Lord Riley.’ The butler inclined his head, confirming Riley’s assumptions. He ignored Salter altogether. ‘I am Sir Philip’s butler, Gregg. My mistress is expecting you, if you will be so good as to follow me.’

  They were shown into a pretty morning room with a view over the long garden in which a black cat sat on a post watching a bird pecking at a shrub. A surprisingly dishevelled Lady Randall paced in front of double doors thrown open to the terrace. Ida Randall was scrupulous about her appearance, and wouldn’t ordinarily receive anyone when not meticulously attired and groomed. Clearly the missing man was more than a mere footman in Ida’s eyes. It didn’t require a stretch of Riley’s imagination to decide what he had been to her, but even Riley was shocked by her lack of discretion in entering into a liaison with one of her servants. Clearly, Salter’s assessment of John Dawson’s ability to charm the fairer sex had not been exaggerated.

  ‘Lord Riley, my lady,’ Gregg said, withdrawing again and closing the door quietly behind him. Riley had yet to encounter a butler who closed doors in any other way. He wondered if that particular skill formed part of their training and if they were ever overcome with a burning desire to give one a satisfying slam. He made a mental note to ask Stout. He would know.

  ‘Ah, Riley, thank you so much for coming! I am at my wits’ end.’

  Riley heard Salter gasp and then clear his throat as Ida Randall descended upon Riley and offered him both of her hands. Riley dutifully took one of them and bowed over it, disturbed by her extreme agitation. She wore a diaphanous robe that left little to the imagination, which was nothing out of the ordinary for Ida. In other circumstances Riley would have grinned as he saw Jack Salter fix his eyes on the open window and the garden beyond. What struck Riley as incongruous was the dishevelled state of her hair and the fact that her eyes were red and swollen, obviously as a result of excessive crying.

  ‘Do sit down, Ida,’ Riley said solicitously. ‘You don’t look at all well.’ He led her to a chair and forced her into it. ‘This is my colleague, Sergeant Salter. We came as soon as we got your message.’ Riley perched on a chair across from her and Salter returned his attention to the room and its occupants, standing as always with his notebook and pencil poised. ‘Now, what’s all this I hear about your being careless with your household staff?’

  Riley’s attempt at levity was met with a heartfelt sob. ‘He did not come back after his day off. It’s not at all like Ezra to be unreliable, and I am working myself into the most terrible state of anxiety about him.’

  ‘Ah, Ezra.’ Salter sounded relieved.

  ‘Your missing footman is called Ezra?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Yes. Ezra Dawson.’

  Riley sent Salter a sharp look. ‘Ezra is his given name?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She slapped a hand against her brow. ‘Actually no, I call him Ezra and so everyone in this house does too. His real name is John, but that’s so pedestrian, don’t you think? He looked much more like an Ezra, a strapping hero of modern fiction, and I told him so. We used to laugh about it.’

  ‘I hesitate to offend my sergeant’s sensibilities, but I assume that you and Ezra were intimately i
nvolved.’

  ‘Well of course we were, Riley. Why else would I be so upset?’

  ‘Blimey,’ Salter muttered.

  ‘In your own household?’ Riley said softly. ‘Randall didn’t object?’

  Ida flapped a hand. ‘Silly boy! You know how things are with Philip and me. He has no interest in that sort of thing nowadays. All he cares about are his stuffy political battles. He understands my needs and doesn’t mind in the least. I sometimes wish that he did, but he lost all interest in that side of our marriage after our third child was born. He told me that he had more than done his duty in that regard. The only thing guaranteed to make him jealous nowadays is when his ideas are eclipsed by one of his fellow bureaucrats.’ She glanced up at Salter and smiled, some of her old spirit evident in her swollen eyes. ‘I see what you mean about your sergeant. We are definitely embarrassing him. His ears have turned quite red.’

  ‘I’m sorry to distress you, Ida,’ Riley said gently, ‘but I’m afraid we are the bearers of very bad news.’

  ‘No!’ she gasped before Riley could say more, clutching a handkerchief to her face, as if she knew what to expect.

  ‘You must be very brave.’ He gave her hand a brief squeeze and released it again. He doubted whether Ida had followed Dawson to Clapham and clouted him over the head in a fit of jealous rage, but it wouldn’t do to show her preferential treatment either. ‘A man’s body was discovered this morning and my sergeant recognised him as John Dawson, a young man with a family in Clapham.’

  She nodded slowly, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘His mother lives there,’ she said, and subsided into a fresh bout of sobbing.

  There was a brandy decanter on the sideboard. Riley moved across to it, poured a small measure and pushed the glass into Ida’s hand.

  ‘For the shock,’ he said.

  She drank it down in one swallow but still seemed incapable of coherent speech. She was more upset by the demise of her servant than Riley had anticipated would be the case, despite their intimacy, which created a whole raft of possibilities in his mind.

  ‘One imagines your household all knew the true nature of your relationship with Ezra,’ he said, when she had regained a modicum of composure.

  Ida gave a negligent shrug. ‘One assumes so, but they would know better than to speak of it outside these walls. I pay my servants above the going rate, and I require their total loyalty in return.’

  ‘What of your children?’

  ‘What of them?’

  Riley smiled at the distressed woman. ‘Were they aware of your affection for your footman?’

  ‘Possibly.’ She lifted one shoulder, apparently indifferent to their feelings on the matter. ‘I didn’t advertise the fact or embarrass them by being seen with Ezra outside the house in anything other than his capacity as a servant. He would sometimes be up behind on the back step of the carriage if I went shopping or made calls.’

  ‘But they knew, your husband and children?’

  ‘Philip certainly did and, as I just made clear, he couldn’t have cared less. In fact, he once told me that he was pleased I had found a harmless way to amuse myself that didn’t require me to leave the house. I believe poor Philip was quite excited by the concept in his own way. As to the children…’ She shrugged. ‘Gideon is as serious about politics as his father. He’s working his way up through the ranks of the civil service too and his wife Verity is very ambitious for him. She is pushing Gideon to stand for a safe Tory seat. I know Gid isn’t keen, and I’ve advised him to put his foot down. Life is short and one shouldn’t be forced to do things that one would find unfulfilling in order to satisfy the expectations of others.’

  ‘You do not like your daughter-in-law?’

  Ida smiled through her tears. ‘I think it’s more a case of her not liking me, or to be more precise, not approving of my behaviour. I have never done anything to deliberately embarrass either of them, but I’m afraid my reputation precedes me.’

  ‘And would no doubt hold your son back if he did decide to stand for Parliament,’ Salter suggested.

  Ida blinked up at him, but spoke to Riley. ‘Oh dear. Yes, I suppose it would. Anyway, there’s nothing to be done about my past and Verity was aware of it before she married Gideon, so she has no cause for complaint.’

  Riley knew that she was right, and also suspected that she had taken to amusing herself with her household staff in an effort to play up to the reputation in question. Oh yes, he thought, Gideon and his disapproving wife knew all about Ida’s predilections, but as long as she restricted her activities to within her own four walls, he failed to see why either of them would feel the need to resort to murder. Even so, they would have to be questioned, as would Philip Randall.

  ‘Your daughter?’

  ‘Sarah married five years ago and is settled in Portsmouth. Her husband Mark is something terribly important in the Navy. A commodore, I think, although he never seems to be at sea. He complains that he spends all his time sailing a desk, but he does look frightfully dashing in his uniform.’ Riley smiled at Ida’s vagueness but wasn’t deceived by it. It was a ploy she had utilised ever since he had known her. Her laissez faire attitude disguised regrets about youthful indiscretions that had altered the course of her life. From the odd unguarded remark he had heard her make, he suspected that she actually had an astute brain but went to great lengths to disguise the depth of her intellect. ‘I see a lot of Sarah. She knows…’ She paused and swallowed down a surge of emotion. ‘Knew about Ezra and teased me about him being so much younger than me.’

  Salter cleared his throat and licked the end of his pencil. Riley knew that he must be aching to issue some sort of moral lecture and admired his restraint.

  ‘There now, we have upset your sergeant again, Riley. But really, as I told Sarah, Ezra was such a beautiful young man. Strong and virile and the best possible fun. And he was here beneath my roof.’ She spread her hands. ‘We weren’t doing anyone any harm.’

  Riley nodded. ‘I understand that Dawson was in his early twenties.’

  ‘I would imagine so.’ Ida gave an airy wave. ‘We did not waste our time discussing such inconsequential matters.’

  Riley very much doubted whether Ida would allow a gap of over twenty years to concern her. She was still a lovely woman, who took care of her appearance and turned heads wherever she went, even though she was now in her late forties.

  ‘What of your younger son?’

  ‘Patrick? He is very clever. He will start his last year at Oxford after the summer recess and is bound to walk away with a first. Everyone says as much. He’s staying with friends in the country for a few days, but he was here last week. He was rather fond of Ezra too. Well, as you not so gallantly pointed out, Riley, Ezra was closer to Patrick’s age than he was to mine. Ezra was technically a servant but Patrick still enjoyed his company. That boy is very much like me. He doesn’t worry too much about the distinction of rank and makes a point of enjoying his life.’ She flashed a watery smile. ‘Verity could learn a thing or two from Patrick’s example, instead of disapproving of everything that’s even remotely fun.’

  ‘Why did you ask the chief inspector to get involved, ma’am?’ Salter asked. ‘I should have thought that keeping track of the household staff was your butler’s duty. And a missing servant is hardly a police matter, surely? I imagine they wander off all the time.’ He sent a quizzical glance at Riley, who shrugged and nodded.

  ‘I gave Ezra the day off yesterday to visit his ailing mother.’

  ‘What the…’

  Riley waved at Salter to keep him quiet. ‘Go on,’ he said softly to Ida.

  ‘Well, my sweet boy was so very close to his mother—and anyway, I couldn’t refuse him anything. We were out last night, Philip and I, so I had no idea that he hadn’t returned at the agreed time until…well, until we retired. I expected Ezra to come and tuck me in,’ she said with a sly smile. ‘When he didn’t materialise, I just assumed that he’d been held up and I fell asleep
. But when Gregg told me this morning that he had not returned, I began to worry. I mean, if his mother had taken a turn for the worse, I knew he would have wanted to stay with her, but I also knew he would have sent word, but he didn’t, so…’ She spread her hands. ‘I knew something must have happened to him. He would never have stayed away from me otherwise. He knows…knew how I worried, so I sent for you, Riley. You’re such a dear. I knew you would help me.’ Salter coughed again as Ida gave a little sob. ‘I just didn’t anticipate that the news you brought would be quite so devastating. Whoever would do such a thing?’

  ‘That is what I intend to find out,’ Riley assured her.

  ‘Everyone loved Ezra. He was universally popular and wouldn’t have hurt a fly.’

  Everybody bar one, Riley thought. Three grown children anxious that their mother’s antics would harm reputations and career opportunities. They had to be the first line of enquiry.

  ‘How did the rest of your servants feel about your favouritism?’ Salter asked.

  Riley thought it a very intuitive question and nodded his approval.

  ‘How would I know?’ Ida replied indifferently. ‘I rather think that Ezra was as popular below stairs as he was with me, but I have no way of actually knowing. I believe the maids took to him, and I wished him well in whatever he got up to with them. I’m not really in much of a position to act the jealous harpy. I can assure you that he was charming and impossible to dislike.’

  ‘Why did you offer him a position, Ida?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Why?’ She blinked at him. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

  ‘You have a lovely home with valuable contents. Dawson, I think I am right in saying, came to you with no references. Now I know you are partial to a pretty face, but I doubt whether you concern yourself with the hiring of junior footmen.’

  ‘Well, of course you are aware of my preferences, Riley dear,’ she replied, fluttering her lashes at him. Salter choked on another cough and fixed his attention on the tips of his boots. ‘Not that my efforts did me any good in your case. Your disinterest was insulting.’