Death of a Milliner: Riley Rochester Investigates Book 9 (Riley ~Rochester Investigates) Page 21

  ‘No, sir. Apart from one of the other residents. Mrs Hampton, the landlady, she ain’t happy to have me standing here. Says it lowers the tone.’

  ‘I am sure she does. Where can she be found?’

  ‘Ground floor, left hand side, sir.’

  ‘Very well. Go about your duties. We will take over here.’

  Mrs Hampton proved to be a short, stout woman with grey hair tied up in a neat bun. She was refined, leading Riley to suppose that she was a gentlewoman who had fallen on hard times, making it necessary for her to let out some of her rooms. She voiced only a mild enquiry as to the need for a police presence.

  ‘Mrs Faulkner is highly respectable,’ she said without hesitation when asked about her. ‘I cannot think what she could have done that requires senior detectives to come round asking questions. She has rented the front room on the first floor for three months and never given me a moment’s trouble.’

  ‘Is she here all the time?’ Riley asked, aware that she was not.

  ‘No, but she has plans to move permanently to central London. She is a milliner, you know, and is on the point of leasing new premises in Knightsbridge. We share a glass of sherry now and then and she talks about her plans. Very excited she is about them, too. We have become quite friendly as a matter of fact.’

  Riley thought that telling. No one else they had spoken to, not even Miss Sharp, looked upon Mrs Faulkner as a friend. She was definitely changing her ways, Riley thought.

  ‘Does she receive any visitors?’ he asked.

  ‘No one other than her son.’

  ‘Her son?’ Riley and Salter looked at one another. ‘The man who works in a warehouse.’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t think so.’ Mrs Hampton frowned. ‘The gentleman who calls here works on the railways. I recognised the uniform.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Riley somehow resisted the urge to thump his brow with the heel of his hand. He had been convinced of Alfred Faulkner’s truthfulness and had believed him when he said that he’d had no contact with his mother. Riley was now obliged to accept that he had been duped by one of the most accomplished liars ever to have crossed his path.

  ‘May we see her room, please?’ Riley asked, having shared a perplexed look with Salter.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure.’ Mrs Hampton’s expression reflected that uncertainty. ‘She won’t like it if she thinks I’ve let anyone in. Mrs Faulkner is a considerate tenant but very particular about her privacy.’

  ‘Do you read the newspapers, madam?’ Riley asked.

  ‘No, not very often. I find the news so depressing. Besides, I don’t get out much. My legs aren’t that steady.’ She summoned up a smile of polite enquiry. ‘Anyway, why do you ask?’

  ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’ Salter took her arm and led her to a well-worn chair in front of the fire. ‘Since you don’t read the newspapers, you won’t have heard that there was a murder recently in Bond Street.’

  ‘A murder in Bond Street.’ Mrs Hampton shook her head. ‘Well, that just goes to prove my point. If one isn’t safe in the best parts of town, then what hope is there? You see now why I prefer not to read the news.’

  Salter made soothing noises. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Faulkner was the victim,’ he said.

  ‘What!’ Mrs Hampton’s wrinkled hands flew to her face, which had paled significantly. ‘No, that can’t be right. No one has any cause to harm Mrs Faulkner. You have made a mistake.’

  ‘Unfortunately not, madam,’ Riley said softly. ‘There can be no doubt.’

  ‘Oh. Oh dear.’ She looked very distressed. Riley would have suggested a tot of brandy to calm her nerves but suspected there was none in the house. ‘Murder. Who would want to murder such a harmless lady?’

  ‘That is just what we are attempting to discover,’ Salter told her, ‘and it’s why we need to see her room. Can I get you anything to help you recover from the shock?’

  ‘Thank you, but no. I shall be all right in a moment or two, I dare say.’ She shook her head. ‘Such a wicked world we live in. Was she set upon for her valuables?’

  ‘Very likely,’ Riley said, not wishing to add to her distress.

  ‘It’s not safe in the streets for respectable people anymore,’ she said, sobbing quietly into a handkerchief. ‘What is the world coming to? Her room is at the front on the first floor, but she keeps it locked and I don’t have a key.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Salter told her. ‘We can get into it without causing any damage. Are you sure you will be all right?’

  ‘You are very kind, but don’t worry about me. I have survived worse unpleasantness than this in my time.’

  She waved them away, and the two detectives made their way up the stairs, the sound of their footfalls muffled by a thick runner.

  ‘Poor woman,’ Salter said.

  ‘I am more concerned about Alfred’s duplicity,’ Riley replied, grinding his jaw. ‘He had us completely fooled, but he’s clearly deeply involved in this business one way or another.’

  ‘Makes you wonder how he supposed we wouldn’t find out,’ Salter replied gruffly. ‘Don’t you ever get fed up with being taken for a fool, sir?’

  ‘I try not to make a habit of it, Sergeant.’

  Salter managed a wry smile. ‘Aye, and I suppose you succeed as a general rule.’

  Riley stood aside while Salter set himself to the task of unlocking Mrs Faulkner’s door, using a long, thin probe that he always carried in his pocket. Riley had never asked him where he’d learned how to pick locks, a skill that had come in useful in more than one of their investigations.

  ‘I wonder where Mrs Faulkner kept her key to this room,’ Riley said, half to himself. ‘Were any keys found on her person, Jack?’

  ‘Actually, no. There was nothing of a personal nature. No purse, nothing. I assume her killer took her effects.’

  ‘And if that killer was Alfred he would have been round here sharpish to remove anything of an incriminating nature.’

  ‘I doubt whether he’d have risked it, knowing that Mrs Hampton would be able to identify him,’ Salter replied, still jiggling his pick and cursing softly beneath his breath.

  ‘True. The lady doesn’t go out and probably takes an active interest in anyone entering this house.’

  ‘Come on…’ Salter jiggled his pick some more, becoming impatient. ‘Ah hah!’ The door swung open and he stood back, allowing Riley to pass through it first. Thick curtains were closed across the window, making it difficult to see anything. Salter crossed the room, cursing again when he stubbed his toe on a footstool, and pulled them open. As light flooded the room, Riley was surprised by its neatness and the quality of its furnishings. Nothing so elegant had been apparent in Mrs Hampton’s sitting room, leading Riley to suppose that Mrs Faulkner had furnished the room herself.

  ‘Blimey,’ Salter said, scratching his head. ‘The woman had two definite sides to her character, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Apparently so,’ Riley replied. He glanced at a desk that sat against the far wall. ‘Have a good look around, Jack, while I see if her papers cast any light.’

  Riley seated himself at the desk and rifled through the drawers. ‘This is a treasure trove,’ he said after a few minutes, feeling a little more optimistic about their chances of solving this most complex of cases. ‘I have the lease agreement for the premises in Knightsbridge, but she hasn’t signed the papers. All of her financial documents are here and so…’ Salter loomed over his shoulder as he flipped through another sheaf of papers, ‘is correspondence between Mrs Faulkner and Alfred.’

  ‘Incriminating?’

  ‘It dates back a year.’ Riley scanned the contents of the first missive. ‘Seems he made contact to express his concerns about his father’s attachment to the woman he’s conducting an affair with.’

  ‘Why would that bother Mrs Faulkner?’

  ‘No idea, but Alfred clearly assumed it would. We will need to take these documents back to the Yard and read them thoroughly.
’ Riley rubbed his chin. ‘It seems from first glance that Alfred was using the opportunity to mend some bridges with his mother.’

  ‘Bernard being the favoured son, like?’

  ‘Precisely. Alfred had been ignored by his mother but he didn’t mind too much because he’d made himself indispensable to his wealthy father. Then he saw his comfortable future, his inheritance, coming under threat from a woman he saw as a gold-digger. He also knew that his mother hadn’t got over her infatuation with Faulkner and wasn’t above a bit of skulduggery.’

  ‘Skulduggery, sir?’ Salter grinned. ‘Blimey. You’ve been spending too much time with me and picked up some of my expressions.’ Salter tutted. ‘What would they say at White’s?’

  Riley treated his sergeant to a droll look. ‘There’s more here that we need to look at more closely,’ he said, standing up and handing a thick wedge of papers to Salter. ‘Find anything else of interest to us?’

  ‘Nope. Just clothing, a few books and a few empty gin jugs.’

  ‘Ah. Miss Sharp told us she liked a tipple. Seemed that hadn’t changed. Come along then, Jack. Let’s get back to the Yard and do some reading.’

  They made their way back downstairs, where Mrs Hampton greeted them in the hallway.

  ‘Are you feeling better?’ Salter asked.

  ‘You are very kind, Sergeant. Thank you, but I shall survive.’

  ‘Did Mrs Faulkner furnish her room herself?’ Riley asked.

  ‘She did. Most particular about her things, she was.’

  ‘Did anyone else have a key to her room?’

  ‘Only the girl who cleans for me.’

  ‘Is she here now?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Well yes, but she won’t know anything.’

  ‘Send for her, please,’ Riley said. ‘I have just a few questions for her, but before you do, has anyone else been here in the last two days, asking for Mrs Faulkner?’

  ‘Her son, you mean?’

  ‘Anyone at all.’

  ‘No. I am always here and there’s been no one. I had no way of knowing…Oh dear!’ She paused to dab at her eyes. ‘I’ll send for Maud.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Salter guided her back to her chair and helped her to settle herself.

  She rang a small hand bell situated on a side table and a girl wearing a pristine apron and a put-upon expression responded to it eventually. If she was the only servant in such a large house then she would not want for occupation, Riley knew.

  ‘These gentlemen are policemen, Maud,’ Mrs Hampton said. ‘I’m afraid Mrs Faulkner has been murdered.’

  ‘Murdered?’ The girl’s mouth fell open and her face drained of all colour. ‘What? When?’

  Riley noticed that when she wasn’t scowling the girl was actually quite pretty. He also sensed a guilty conscience and suspected that she would be able to help their enquiry.

  ‘Come and sit down, Maud,’ Riley said, not unkindly. ‘Now, what do you know about Mrs Faulkner.’

  ‘I’m that sorry, sir.’ She burst into tears and covered her face in her apron. Riley glanced at Salter and they both looked skyward as they waited for the flood to subside. Mrs Hampton looked on with total incomprehension. ‘I didn’t think there was no harm in it.’

  ‘No harm in what, Maud?’ Riley asked, striving for patience.

  ‘It’s that nice gentleman, Mrs Faulkner’s son. He were always that kind to me.’ Her eyes shone briefly. ‘He took me to the music hall once and bought me supper afterwards.’

  ‘How long ago?’ Salter asked.

  She shrugged a skinny shoulder. ‘Not sure. Soon after Mrs Faulkner moved here. He often brought me little gifts when he came to see his ma and was never too busy to stop and chat for a minute or two.’ She glanced warily at Mrs Hampton, probably worried that she would be chastised for slacking or befriending one of the tenants’ gentleman callers.

  Riley was perfectly sure that Alfred would have found it easy to impress such an unworldly creature. ‘What did he ask you to do that’s made you cry?’ he asked.

  ‘It were yesterday, when you went to your bridge afternoon, ma’am,’ the girl admitted. Riley somehow managed not to roll his eyes. So much for Mrs Hampton never going out. ‘He came and said he needed something from his ma’s room. Well, I didn’t see no harm in letting him in. He wouldn’t steal anything. Him and his ma was on good terms.’

  ‘What did he take with him?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Just some papers, I think. He said his ma had asked him to come and get them but forgot to give him her key.’ She offered Riley a watery blink. ‘Did I do wrong, sir?’

  ‘Not as far as I can tell, Maud, but you must promise me not to talk to anyone else about this. Can you do that?’

  ‘Oh yes, sir,’ the girl replied eagerly. ‘I knows how to keep me mouth shut.’

  ‘And if Mr Faulkner should call here again, you are not to let him into his mother’s room. Do you understand?’

  She nodded vigorously, eager to please.

  ‘You surely don’t suppose that Mr Faulkner had anything to do with his mother’s death, do you?’ Mrs Hampton looked shocked and worried.

  Riley smiled at her. ‘We are paid to be suspicious,’ he replied. ‘Just make sure your doors are locked and don’t let any strangers in. We will get to the bottom of this matter soon enough.’

  ‘That I will do, Chief Inspector. Thank you for being so solicitous.’ This last remark was addressed to Salter.

  ‘Just one more question,’ Riley said. ‘Is your bridge afternoon a regular engagement?’

  ‘Oh yes. I have attended for years. I never miss. It is about my only pleasure nowadays. It gives me an opportunity to keep up with my friends. They all lead such busy lives, you see.’

  Riley smiled at her and they took their leave.

  ‘Alfred’s a sly one,’ Salter said as they left the premises. ‘And he’s used that poor lass good and proper.’

  ‘I’m afraid he did, Jack, and I’m not convinced that she’s told us everything she knows. Perhaps because she’s worried for her position.’ Riley fell into momentary contemplation. ‘I wonder what Alfred took from that room that was so important to him and why he left all that correspondence for us to find.’

  ‘We didn’t find her bank book,’ Salter said, scowling.

  ‘True enough. Perhaps she had it with her and the killer took it. Get onto her bank, Jack, and make sure that no withdrawals on her account are permitted. Have them let us know if anyone attempts it.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’ They climbed into a cab for the return journey to Scotland Yard. The rain was coming down harder and Salter slid the papers they had taken from Mrs Faulkner’s room beneath his coat to prevent the ink from running. ‘Shall we bring Alfred in?’

  ‘Oh yes, but let’s read through all that documentation first. It’s beyond time that we got some honest answers from him.’

  ‘There’s a woman been waiting a good half-hour to see you, sir,’ Barton informed Riley upon their return.

  ‘Does she have a name, Barton?’ Riley removed his hat and shook rainwater from its brim.

  ‘Miss Avril Price.’

  Riley glanced at Salter. ‘Where have we heard that name before, Jack?’ he asked.

  ‘Faulkner’s woman,’ Salter replied, scowling. ‘The one Alfred don’t approve of.’

  ‘Of course. Well, this is turning out to be a day for surprises. Give me a couple of minutes, Barton, then show her through to my office, please.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Like you say, sir, this day’s getting stranger by the minute,’ Salter said, removing his own hat and coat and placing the mercifully dry trawl of documents onto Riley’s desk.

  ‘We’re finally getting somewhere. We’ve questioned someone and spooked them, that much is undeniable. I just wish I knew who.’ Riley rubbed his hands together. ‘But we’re getting close, I can sense it.’

  ‘Well, all power to your senses, sir.’

  Both men stood when a remarkably attractiv
e woman of about thirty-five was shown into Riley’s room. Riley introduced himself and Salter and offered the woman the chair in front of his desk. Riley resumed his own once she had seated herself.

  ‘Thank you for coming to see me, Miss Price. I gather you are a friend of Mr Ralph Faulkner,’ Riley said, getting straight to the heart of the matter.

  ‘Friend?’ She offered Riley an arch smile. ‘Delicately put, Chief Inspector, but I can tell from your sergeant’s disapproving look that you understand the true nature of our relationship. Not to put too fine a point on it, I am Ralph’s paramour. I am in love with him and I thought that he returned my affections, but I have recently discovered that I mistook the matter.’

  ‘Then you have my sympathy, but I fail to see how that helps our enquiry.’

  She smiled. ‘Ralph has never stopped loving the mother of his children. He was quite blatant about it.’ She spread her hands. ‘How does one compete with a ghost?’

  ‘They hadn’t seen one another for years,’ Salter said, scratching his head with the end of his pencil.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Riley was no longer sure about anything, other than the fact that all three male Faulkners seemed to be adept liars. ‘Go on,’ he said mildly.

  ‘I started pushing Ralph for a commitment. After all, I was acting as his nursemaid, unpaid skivvy and…well, everything else. I needed to know where I stood. He told me that he liked things the way they were and he had no intention of making an honest woman out of me. He said he’d tried living with that woman as man and wife, even if they never made it legal, and didn’t intend to fall into the same trap again.’

  ‘You didn’t live permanently with Faulkner?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Lord above no! His precious son made sure of that by calling round at all hours and turning his pa against me. Said I was only after his fortune. Ha!’ She threw up her hands. ‘Most of it’s invested and he spends precious little of what isn’t on me. He also made it clear that when he turns up his toes it’s all going to his sons.’ She sniffed. ‘Like I cared about that. I have some money of my own that I inherited myself when my old pa died. Enough to allow me to live in modest comfort. Why does everything have to revolve around money, and why is Alfred so wretchedly protective of his pa, that’s what I’d like to know?’