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

  Sir Philip looked astounded when Riley went on to explain how Verity had first made Ezra’s acquaintance and looked upon him as hers. For good measure, he also told him about her brother and about Mrs Wendall’s attachment to Ezra as well.

  ‘So you can see that she felt betrayed on all fronts, and being a vindictive woman she decided upon revenge. We know she arranged for her brother to be killed, but she didn’t do it herself. Instead, she incited someone else to do her dirty work, much as she incited you.’

  ‘Ye gods!’ Sir Philip rested his elbow on the table and dropped the side of his face into his splayed hand. ‘Talk about a woman scorned. I had absolutely no idea. She fooled me completely.’

  ‘Quite. Gideon isn’t safe from her murderous revenge either, since he too has a lady friend. He’s probably only escaped her wrath because of her grandiose plans for his career. When he is repeatedly passed over for promotion, Gideon will become surplus to requirements too.’

  ‘Ezra wasn’t intoxicated,’ Salter added. ‘We know from the doctor’s examination of his body that he’d ingested a mild dose of poison that would have made him disorientated and appear very drunk. Verity knew that he wouldn’t have gone outside with her otherwise.’

  Both detectives stopped speaking and the tension in the room was palpable as Sir Philip mulled over his options. Not that he had many choices. Riley had meant what he said and would arrest them both for murder if he didn’t tell the truth. After what seemed like an eternity, Sir Philip spoke again, but his voice was that of a broken man.

  ‘I didn’t lay a finger on Ezra and tried to get Verity to walk away, but it was as if she had retreated mentally somewhere beyond my reach. She screamed at me again in that exaggerated whisper, which was far more chilling than if she had shouted at the top of her lungs, repeating over and over that Ezra was a scourge who needed to be extinguished. By that point, Ezra was on his knees, looking as though he wanted to vomit.’

  ‘The poison,’ Riley said. ‘It made him feel sick and was why our doctor found traces of it around his mouth and in his throat. He had been about to bring it up.’

  ‘Before I could stop Verity she reached into her purse. She had something heavy with her and I recalled her making some offhand remark earlier about having learned during her days growing up in Clapham to always have a means to defend herself when venturing out alone at night. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Anyway, what she had with her looked like one of a pair of onyx figurines that always sat on her mantelpiece. They had belonged to her father and she was proud of them, but I’d always thought them rather ugly.’

  ‘What did she do?’ Riley asked.

  ‘It was awful. I will never forget the sound.’ He dropped his head and Riley thought he was crying. However, he composed himself and continued. ‘Before I could stop her, she lifted the figurine and whacked Ezra on the back of his head with more force than I could ever imagine such a slight thing capable of mustering. It was as though something, perhaps the resentment you have told me about, gave her superhuman strength. There was the horrible sound of cracking bone that will haunt me to the end of my days, Ezra crumpled to the ground and Verity and I…well, I was so damned shocked that I didn’t know what to do. Then survival instincts kicked in and I’m afraid we ran back to the cab and came home.’ He let out a brief sob. ‘Oh God!’

  ‘Think very carefully, Sir Philip,’ Riley said, ignoring the other man’s state of extreme agitation. He might not have killed Ezra himself, but he had been involved and had withheld information. That, as far as Riley was concerned, removed any entitlement to sympathy. ‘What did Verity do with the onyx figurine?’ Riley knew that if it couldn’t be found then it would be Sir Philip’s word against Verity’s.

  ‘She didn’t take it home with her,’ Salter said. ‘Well, if she did it isn’t on display. I noticed one on the mantelpiece in their home and a gap where the other should be.’

  Sir Philip, his eyes now bloodshot, looked up at Riley. ‘She threw it down,’ he said, slowly. ‘I recall hearing it hit the ground and bounce away. It skittered off under the gap between the tavern and the cellar steps. She was angry, wanted to look for it, but it was dark and there was Ezra…’

  ‘Was he dead at that point?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Dead?’ Sir Philip looked at Riley as though he had spoken to him in Swahili. ‘I…well, I’m not sure. I just assumed…’

  ‘You might have been able to save him.’ Disgusted, Riley stood up. ‘Stay here. We will be back later,’ he said curtly.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ Salter said as a constable stepped into the room to keep Sir Philip company. ‘Well, at least we now know that it wasn’t Albert seen escaping out the back way.’

  ‘Oh, I rather think it was, Jack.’

  ‘But Gregg had locked the…Ah, I see what you mean. Gregg is devoted to Sir Philip, his half-brother. He disapproved of Ida’s behaviour and hated having Ezra in the house.’

  ‘Quite. He would have let Sir Philip out the front door and probably hailed the cab for him as well. I knew he was holding something back. Not sure if he knew where Sir Philip was going and with whom but the moment he heard of Ezra’s death, he suspected Sir Philip’s hand in it and did everything in his power to protect him.’

  Salter nodded. ‘And Sir Philip returned the favour just now by making a point of saying that Gregg would have been enjoying his best brandy, so as not to implicate him.’

  ‘Send Carter, Soames and Peterson to look for that figurine,’ Riley said, striding towards his office. ‘If it can be found then Verity won’t be able to wriggle out of a murder charge.’

  ‘She didn’t expect Sir Philip to turn on her, did she, sir?’

  ‘No, Jack, she didn’t. Go with them and bring Paul Dawson in as well.’

  ‘Why?’ Salter asked, blinking.

  ‘Because I want to get his brother for the murder of Gordon Wendall as well as the theft of building materials. That way, his wife will be free of him once and for all.’

  ‘And you think Paul will turn on him now that he’s under lock and key and can no longer threaten him?’

  Riley opened his office door and threw himself into his chair. ‘It’s worth a try.’

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  Riley watched his sergeant go and took a moment to mull over their discoveries before taking himself off to see Superintendent Thompson and updating him on developments.

  ‘Well done, Rochester. You have got to the bottom of Ezra’s killing very quickly, even by your own high standards, and uncovered another murder we didn’t know anything about.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Salter, as always, has been a vital help. Talking of whom—’

  ‘Ah, of course.’ He reached into a drawer and handed Riley an envelope. ‘It’s been approved, and is much deserved. I’ll let you tell him.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I shall.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Two hours later, Salter and Riley’s constables returned from Clapham, brandishing the murder weapon.

  ‘Well done, gentlemen!’ Riley said with satisfaction.

  ‘It was hard to find,’ Carter said, brushing dried mud from the sleeves of his coat. ‘It had rolled right under that gap. Just as well really, otherwise some chancer would have found it and flogged it on. Must be worth a bob or two.’

  ‘Did you find Paul Dawson?’

  ‘We did,’ Salter replied. ‘Barton’s taking care of him.’

  ‘Bring him in here, Jack. I don’t want him to feel like he’s being accused of anything.’

  Salter raised a bushy brow. ‘Right you are, sir. Will do.’ He disappeared and returned a short time later with a subdued Paul Dawson in tow.

  ‘Thank you for coming in,’ Riley said, indicating the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

  Dawson looked a little taken aback to be treated so politely, and the protest Riley had sensed him formulating died on his lips. He sat down and looked expectantly at Riley. ‘Why am I here?’ he asked.


  Riley answered his question with one of his own. ‘How is Ruth?’

  ‘She’s recovering, but slowly.’

  ‘You know what your brother did to her?’

  Paul scowled. ‘Oh aye, I know right enough and it disgusts me. I’ve never laid a finger on my wife, but I’ve had to sit back watching Ruth getting beaten black and blue for no reason other than that Sam’s a jealous sod. He blames her if any man looks at her twice. Given how pretty and how good-natured she is, it stands to reason that she’ll attract attention. It ain’t her fault, but Sam has dark moods.’ He folded his arms and shuddered. ‘And I was too cowardly to try and stop him.’

  ‘He was jealous of Ezra’s success?’ When Paul looked blank, Riley recalled that he would think of his brother as John.

  Paul huffed out a long breath. ‘Any mention of his name sent him into a mood. John and I met up occasionally without Sam’s knowledge and agreed that we needed to get Ruth away from him before he killed her. I think John had plans to help her, but he never shared them with me. Said it would be better if I didn’t know.’

  Riley nodded, thinking that for all his unscrupulous activities, Ezra had also had a kind heart. ‘You are aware that your brother was arrested last night? he asked.

  ‘It was all I could do not to throw a party. He tried to involve me in the thieving from the building site but I didn’t wanna know. He got angry about that, too. Well, just about anything angers him but his little brother not doing as he was told came high on his list. Not that he can clout me around the ear anymore, like he did when we were kids. I didn’t fall in with his plans but he had other ways of making me pay. I told him he’d get his collar felt but he was so determined to show John that he weren’t the only brother capable of getting ahead that he seemed to think he was charmed.’

  ‘Sam was caught red-handed. He’ll go to prison for years, but he will get out one day.’ Riley paused. ‘Unless you can help me find evidence for another crime we think he was responsible for.’

  Paul sat forward. ‘What crime? I’m the only one of the three of us that prefers to make an honest living. I've never wanted to know how John and Sam got ahead and they’ve never shared details of their schemes with me, so I doubt if I’ll be able to help you.’

  ‘Do you recall a woman by the name of Verity Randall coming to see him?’

  Paul leaned forward. ‘What does she look like?’

  Riley gave a description and Paul hesitated before responding. ‘I didn’t see her,’ he eventually said, ‘but Ruth told me about her. She came to see Sam at home and Sam sent Ruth into the other room while they talked. He must have known that Ruth would be able to hear what they said but it didn’t occur to him that she would tell anyone. She didn’t, not until after John’s death and then she only told me. We both knew that John was working in the Randall household, so you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that the woman who came to see Sam was a member of that family. I mean, she gave her real name, as bold as you please. She would have had to, I suppose, because she grew up in Clapham and Sam would have recognised her as Verity Wendall, as was.’

  ‘What did Ruth overhear?’

  ‘The woman was going on and on about Ezra, as she referred to him, and how he was getting money out of the woman he worked for to open his club. How Ezra would make a fortune and become even more unbearable. And how he had designs on feathering his nest by taking up with Mrs Wendall.’

  ‘You know her?’

  ‘Everyone around these parts knows of the Wendalls, and I could well imagine steam coming out of Sam’s ears at the thought of John getting cosy with Mrs Wendall. Mrs Randall said that someone had to warn Wendall so that he could nip it in the bud and thwart Ezra’s plans.’

  ‘And Sam offered his services?’

  Paul snorted. ‘Course he did. For a price, naturally. Mrs Randall would have remembered him as the bully he was in his younger days. Growing up locally and knowing everyone works both ways.’ Paul nodded emphatically. ‘Mrs Randall would have remembered Sam right enough.’

  ‘Didn’t you think it suspicious that Wendall died at around that time?’

  ‘Suspicious but not surprising. If Wendall refused to do anything about his wife’s affair, I can well imagine Sam losing that famous temper of his—which of course played right into John’s hands since it left Mrs Wendall to inherit her husband’s estate. Sam was in a black mood for days after Wendall’s death, which is probably why.’

  ‘Would Ruth be willing to testify to what she heard?’

  Paul’s head jerked up. ‘I thought a wife couldn’t be made to testify against her husband.’

  ‘She can’t be forced to, but there’s nothing to prevent her from doing her civic duty.’

  ‘Given that Sam beat her poor bairn out of her, I would imagine she’d be more than happy to,’ Salter said pensively. ‘He wouldn’t be the first man to underestimate the strength of a woman’s maternal instincts.’

  ‘I’ll have to ask her,’ Paul said, nodding and smiling for the first time, ‘but I don’t reckon she’ll take much persuading. You’re right about that, Sergeant.’

  ‘Go back and talk to her,’ Riley said, standing. ‘Sergeant Salter will call later today and get her answer.’

  Paul nodded, stood up and was escorted from the Yard.

  ‘It’s all coming together, sir,’ Salter said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Shall we go and have a word with Sam now?’

  ‘I fail to see why not.’

  They entered the room where Sam was being kept. He looked bedraggled and not nearly as belligerent as he’d been when Riley had last seen him. His nose was swollen and sat at an odd angle, there were grazes and bruises all over his face and one eye was swollen almost completely closed. Each time he moved he winced. Riley assumed he had more bruises, courtesy of the business end of Barton’s constables’ boots in all probability. Riley hoped it hurt like the devil.

  ‘Know how it feels now, don’t you Dawson?’ Riley said cheerfully, sitting across from the man and earning a dark scowl for his trouble.

  ‘Wot am I doing ’ere? You got me last night in Clapham. Ain’t nothing to do with your lot.’

  ‘Why should it matter where we keep you?’ Salter asked with relish. ‘You won’t be seeing the light of day again for many a long year, Dawson. And by the time you get out, your kids will be grown and your wife will be living with a man who knows who to treat her right.'

  Sam exploded from his chair and lunged for Salter. Riley had anticipated his reaction and took a step back. Dawson had been weakened the night before but still packed a hefty punch, which Salter deflected and then sent the man toppling backwards with one massive strike of his own.

  ‘That will do, Sergeant. Let’s not do the hangman’s work for him.’

  ‘Hangman?’ Dawson wiped blood from his lip with the back of his hand as he clambered slowly to his feet, finally looking wary. ‘I ain’t done anything to get hung for.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ Salter muttered, flexing his fingers. He’d opened up the cuts from the night before and wrapped a handkerchief around his bloody knuckles.

  ‘We know you resented your brother John’s ability to get ahead. More than resented. Any mention of the man sent you into a rage, especially when you saw the way your mother fussed over him and took pride in his achievements, holding them up to you and Paul as a shining example.’ Dawson resumed his chair, folded his meaty arms over his chest and scowled at Riley without attempting to deny his assertion. ‘You heard about his club and that tipped you over the edge.’

  ‘No doubt you gave Ruth a right pasting that night,’ Salter said, disgust in his tone. ‘What a man! You must be so proud of yourself, belting seven shades of shit out of a helpless woman.’

  ‘A man’s allowed to discipline his wife. Ain’t none of your business.’

  ‘It is when he murders his own child,’ Riley replied mildly. ‘However, I digress.’

  ‘He means he got side-tracked,�
� Salter said in a patronising tone when Dawson scowled with incomprehension.

  ‘Verity Randall came to see you—’

  ‘Who?’ Dawson’s eyes darted from side to side but the belligerence in his expression had been replaced with fear.

  ‘She came to see you,’ Riley continued, ignoring the interruption, ‘and when she told you that your brother had become very friendly with Nancy Wendall, it was the final straw. You knew who Verity was, of course, and that associating with her could be profitable from your perspective. Anyway, you agreed to go and see Wendall and tell him about the affair, just to nip Ezra’s expectations in the bud, unwittingly aiding and abetting his cause when you lost your temper and killed Wendall.’

  ‘That left Mrs Wendall free to actually marry Ezra once she came out of mourning, which would make him wealthy beyond his wildest expectations,’ Salter added. ‘You must have been furious.’

  ‘I suppose you’re gonna accuse me of killing me own brother, an’ all. Pin it all on me, why don’t you?’

  ‘No, Dawson. We know who did you a good turn by killing him, and the same woman was behind both crimes.’

  ‘Verity?’ Dawson breathed, looking astounded.

  ‘Verity,’ Riley confirmed. ‘Tell us what happened with Wendall.’

  ‘It were an accident, so I’m told. The case is closed.’

  ‘It can be reopened if fresh evidence comes to light.’

  ‘Come on, Dawson.’ Salter got up close and growled in his face, withholding his trademark table slap, either because he thought Dawson wouldn’t be intimidated by it or out of consideration for his injured knuckles. ‘We know you was there. Wendall’s manager described you to us.’

  ‘Could have been John or Paul. We all look alike.’

  ‘John dressed well,’ Riley said, allowing his gaze to roam over Dawson’s scruffy attire. ‘He wouldn’t be seen looking the way you do, and Paul sticks to the straight and narrow. He wouldn’t get involved with anything so tawdry. Besides, your conversation with Verity was overheard.’