Death of a Scoundrel Read online

  ‘Not a great deal, Inspector. We exchanged civilities if we passed on the stairs, but other than that I barely knew the man. We come from different walks of life and had little in common. He was out and about every night, mixing with his own class, whereas I am ordinarily in bed and asleep by ten.’

  ‘He didn’t spend any time in the communal rooms here on the ground floor?’ Salter asked.

  ‘Lord, no! Dudley and I often indulge in a glass or two of sherry and a game of cards of a night, but Woodrow…Not a chance. Not his idea of fun, I don’t suppose. I got the impression that he preferred the fairer sex.’

  ‘Did you ever see him with anyone else? I am curious to know how you reached that conclusion.’

  ‘One gets to understand people in my line of work, Inspector. Woodrow was a handsome and well-connected single gentleman. It stands to reason…’ He allowed his words to trail off, clearly thinking he had made his point.

  ‘Did visitors ever call here to see Woodrow?’

  ‘If they did then I never saw them. Sorry, Inspector, but like I say, I barely knew the man and have absolutely no idea who would want to kill him.’

  Riley believed him, thanked him for his time and asked him to get in touch if he thought of anything that might help with the investigation. ‘Please ask Mr Langston to join us,’ he said.

  Langston, a tall, skinny man with red hair and whiskers, looked to be a few years younger than Crawford. He too confirmed that he had never married and enjoyed a position as a senior civil servant. He reiterated Crawford’s impressions of Woodrow almost word for word. He had barely spoken to him either and knew nothing about his activities.

  ‘I did see him once in the park,’ he said. ‘He was with a lady, but then that came as no great surprise. He had an eye for a pretty girl, that much was obvious to me.’

  ‘I get the impression that our friend Woodrow didn’t like to associate with men who do an honest day’s work,’ Salter said scathingly, having thanked Langston and asked him to send Miss Ogden in.

  ‘Distant and remote is the impression I’m left with,’ Riley replied. ‘Yet Jessie sang his praises. It will be interesting to see if Miss Ogden does, too.’

  Salter grunted, confirming Riley’s original impression that his straight-laced sergeant disapproved of Woodrow’s lifestyle. Riley did too in many respects but wouldn’t allow his private views to cloud his judgement. ‘He appealed to the ladies, obviously.’

  ‘Keep an open mind, Jack,’ Riley chastised as the door opened to admit Miss Ogden. Both men stood, and Salter held a chair until she had settled herself in it.

  ‘I apologise for keeping you waiting, Miss Ogden,’ Riley said politely. ‘It was no incivility on my part, but more a case of priorities.’

  ‘I understand perfectly, Inspector. Those two gentlemen have work to get to. Either that or you do not consider me a suspect,’ she added on a lighter note.

  ‘Unfortunately, ma’am, I am paid to have a suspicious mind—but, if it’s any consolation, you don’t look like the criminal type to me.’

  She gave a half smile and fanned her face with the side of her hand. ‘I am relieved to hear you say so.’

  ‘I understand you had an early engagement this morning and we have made you miss it, for which I apologise.’

  ‘No apology necessary. I had an audition but as soon as I realised what had happened here I knew you would want to talk to me, so I sent a boy with a note to explain. It has been rearranged for this afternoon. A man has lost his life, and your investigation into the circumstances must naturally take priority.’

  ‘I wish all our witnesses were so obliging,’ Salter muttered.

  ‘You are a singer, I understand,’ Riley said.

  Miss Ogden’s smile became strained and she seemed a little irritated, as evidenced by the tic below one eye and the straightening of her shoulders. ‘Clearly, you have been speaking with Jessie. She is an obliging girl but makes me sound like a third-rate music hall act.’ She sat a little straighter still and folded her rather large hands in her lap. ‘In actual fact, I am a soprano with the Royal English Opera Company.’

  Riley inclined his head, feeling guilty for having reached the exact same conclusion that Miss Ogden had just attributed to Jessie. But still, at least Riley now knew how she afforded her rent.

  ‘Tell me about Mr Woodrow,’ he said. ‘Your rooms were on the same floor as his, so presumably you saw something of him, which is more than can be said for the other tenants.’

  Miss Ogden smiled. ‘We passed the time of day quite often, as it happens.’

  ‘In his rooms?’ Salter asked.

  ‘No, ordinarily in mine, but not in the manner that you suppose, Sergeant. Rod was a handsome man and knew it. He didn’t take that sort of interest in a plain woman who was older than him and, frankly, couldn’t enhance his prospects. Had I been wealthy…well, who knows.’

  ‘You think he took advantage of people?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Don’t we all in some way or another? Life doesn’t owe anyone a living. Anyway, he was impressed by my career and took an interest in whatever production we were performing. I sometimes thought he quizzed me because he wanted to impress his social circle with his knowledge, but he did it so charmingly that I really didn’t mind. I did actually wonder if he was angling for complimentary tickets but he wasn’t so gauche as to ask directly. Besides, I saw him several times at the theatre in very illustrious company. He clearly needed no help from me.’

  ‘Did he ever have visitors here? Family? Friends?’

  ‘No one I ever saw. Sorry.’

  ‘Did he express any concerns about his safety?’ Riley persisted. ‘You appear to be the only person in this house who knew him at all, so if he confided in anyone…’

  Miss Ogden shook her head before Riley finished asking the question. ‘Sorry, but Rod always seemed perfectly relaxed. In my opinion, he had yet to grow up and treated life as one big game. He was one of those happy individuals who possessed the capacity to live life from day to day and enjoy it without worrying about the future.’

  ‘How long have you resided in this house?’ Riley asked.

  ‘About a year. I served as understudy to the company’s leading soprano for years. Then she left abruptly under something of a cloud and my turn finally came. I’d lived prudently up until that point and so thought…well, why not revel in the fruits of my labours and move to a safer part of town?’

  ‘Why not indeed?’ Riley smiled at her. ‘Was Mr Woodrow already here when you moved in?’

  ‘Yes, he’d been here for a year himself at that point.’

  ‘Now then, Miss Ogden, can you recall what time Mr Woodrow arrived home? It would have been in the early hours, I dare say. Your rooms are on the same floor as his, so I hope you will be able to help us narrow down the time frame.’

  ‘I wish I could, Inspector, really I do and normally I would be in a position to do so. I often heard him stumbling about when he arrived home in his cups. Men have no knowledge of stealth, I’m afraid.’ She smiled to take the sting out of her words. ‘But last night I had no performance and today’s audition to prepare for. I am a light sleeper so I took a sleeping draft that the doctor prescribed for me, which is why I asked Jessie to wake me in plenty of time to prepare for my big day. Sometimes that medication makes me sleep for fifteen hours, you see, and so I couldn’t take that chance.’

  ‘You were not woken by voices, arguing perhaps, or any sort of commotion?’

  She shook her head. Riley disguised his disappointment by thanking her for helping them.

  ‘I’m not certain what help I actually was, Inspector,’ she replied, standing. ‘Rod had his faults. He was selfish and thought himself better than the rest of us. Well, he was, I suppose, given his connections. You are aware of them, I presume?’ Riley nodded. ‘Makes you wonder why he chose to live here, though, given that his family have a large house a stone’s throw away. Perhaps they didn’t approve of his activities. I asked him o
nce but he prevaricated and I never did get a straight answer. He was very good at turning the conversation back onto the concerns of his questioner if there was something he didn’t want that person to know. In your line of work you will be aware that people ordinarily like nothing more than to talk about themselves. Rod had a way of appearing interested, even if he was bored rigid, and encouraged them to do so.’

  ‘Well,’ Salter said, closing the door behind the obliging Miss Ogden, ‘all our witnesses have been forthright, which makes a pleasant change, but we haven’t learned anything we didn’t know before speaking to them.’ He frowned. ‘Did you believe them, sir?’

  ‘I did, Jack. I knew Woodrow, remember, and I am sure he wouldn’t have wanted to be too intimate with his fellow tenants. We will look into their backgrounds, naturally, but on the face of it I cannot see them having any reason to want him dead, or to risk carrying out the deed for that matter.’ Riley rubbed his chin. ‘I am more interested in the source of his wealth, so we will have to search through those papers you found. But we’ll do that later. First, we had best take ourselves to Woodrow House in Islington and break the news. It will not stay secret for long and I would prefer them to hear it from us, if only so that we can gauge their reaction.’

  ‘Right you are. What do you want Carter and Soames to do?’

  ‘Get them to borrow Jessie’s keys. Just for the sake of thoroughness I need them to do a sweep of the rooms of the other tenants. Miss Ogden will be in hers now so they’d best wait until she leaves for her audition. But I dare say that the two gentlemen will have already left for their work. I don’t want it to be obvious that anyone has been through their things. They are simply looking for anything to connect them to Woodrow. Those two missing whisky glasses bother me. Why anyone would take them is beyond me, but Jessie assures me there have always been six, so I feel their absence is significant.’

  ‘Those two on the top floor aspire to better themselves,’ Salter said with a reflective nod, ‘and think it worth shelling out in order to boast this address, so possessing something of that quality might appeal to them. Still an’ all, it would be a foolish thing to do. Taking them, I mean, and then leaving them on open display. It’s the sort of behaviour that could get a man hanged. Besides, why take just two? They would have done better to take the decanter and all the glasses. We wouldn’t have known any different and your suspicions would not have been aroused.’

  ‘Unless our killer acted on impulse and didn’t think the implications through. Given that he’d just murdered Woodrow, non-clarity of thought is not to be wondered at.’

  ‘Either that or he didn’t think anyone investigating would notice the anomaly.’ Salter nodded as he spoke. ‘I wouldn’t have, come to that. Only someone like you, guv, what understands the importance of these things would have seen it.’

  ‘Perhaps, but whether my keen eye will get us any further forward is a matter of conjecture.’

  ‘You think one of them just might have done it, explaining how he came to be in Woodrow’s rooms, waiting to confront him?’

  Riley shook his head. ‘Unlikely that he broke in. If he did, Woodrow would hardly have had a drink with him.’

  ‘If he did.’

  ‘Two missing glasses.’ Riley mused. ‘And no sign of a break-in. Whoever was in that room was invited in, and if Woodrow was barely acquainted with his fellow tenants he wouldn’t entertain either one of them, especially not in the early hours. Everyone says he was fiercely protective of his privacy, and only Jessie seems to have crossed his threshold on a regular basis. If he could have borne to look after himself, I don’t suppose she would have been permitted inside either, but at least he was confident that she wouldn’t dare to snoop. He made sure of that by keeping her sweet with smiles and a few flirtatious words. It would have been enough to make a trusting girl like Jessie worship at his feet. You saw for yourself how upset she was, and her reaction was the result of more than just the shock of having found him.’

  ‘Silly little thing,’ Salter said.

  ‘I have another task for Carter and Soames once they’ve finished here. You heard Crawford say that a firm of letting agents in Oxford Street deal with this property. They arrange the tenancies on behalf of the owners, collect the rents, pay Jessie and so forth. You made a note of the address?’ Salter nodded. ‘None of the tenants knows who owns the property, but I would like to find out. It might be significant. If someone was lying in wait for Woodrow, then that someone was either the most efficient lock-picker north of the river or had a key. Talking of keys, did you find Woodrow’s?’

  Salter scratched his head. ‘Now that you mention it, we didn’t.’

  ‘Interesting…’

  ‘Perhaps the killer needed them to let himself out the main front door.’

  ‘But he didn’t close Woodrow’s door when he fled?’ Riley shook his head. ‘It’s damned odd.’

  ‘I think I know why you’re interested in the owners,’ Salter said. ‘You think Woodrow might have struggled to pay the rent, or perhaps he didn’t actually pay any. The owner might have a connection to Woodrow’s family, or a personal connection to Woodrow himself and let him stay here rent-free.’

  ‘That is what I hope Carter and Soames will find out for us.’

  ‘Right-ho. I’ll go and give them your instructions, sir, then we can go to Islington.’

  ‘I want Peterson and Harper to stay here. No one who doesn’t have business in this house is to be allowed in. And I want the names of anyone who does come sniffing around. It won’t be the first time that a murderer has returned to the scene of the crime to admire his handiwork.’

  Salter nodded and went off to make the necessary arrangements.

  Chapter Three

  Riley and Salter took a hansom to Islington. The leafy borough had seen a gradual spread of urbanisation over the past decades, eating into what had once been open fields and farmland. Omnibuses made it possible for clerks and artisans to join merchants and professional men living further from their employment. The slow decline of the southern half of Islington as a genteel suburb had failed to affect the status of Woodrow House, a regal and substantial building that clung tenaciously to a few acres of private grounds adjacent to Islington Green, holding progress at bay by asserting its right to exist. It sat behind massive wrought-iron gates controlled by a suspicious-looking porter who demanded to know their business and inspected their identifications at close quarters before granting them access.

  ‘Can’t blame me for being cautious,’ the man said, saluting Riley. ‘We get all sorts coming here trying to force their way in, like they’ve got some sort of divine right. Just ’cause the old viscount’s feeling his age don’t mean he’s gonna sell up to one of them property people who’d want to move fifty families in here, does it now?’

  Riley calmly agreed that it did not and proceeded to walk up the untidy driveway with Salter at his side, noticing the air of neglect that hung like a bad smell over the once magnificent gardens. Perhaps the viscount had ceased to care about appearances.

  ‘Lord Woodrow has not been seen in society for a while,’ Riley told his sergeant. ‘The word is that he’s nearing the end. Hearing about the brutal demise of his youngest son will likely finish him off.’

  ‘I got the impression that young Roderick was a bit of a scamp. The black sheep, if you will,’ Salter remarked.

  ‘He was, but it’s also common knowledge that he was his father’s favourite. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see for yourself soon enough. I won’t say more since I’d prefer to have your impressions of the family’s situation without my influencing your thinking.’

  Salter nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  They were admitted to the house by a butler who addressed Riley by his title, despite the fact that both men had presented cards bearing their ranks.

  ‘The master is indisposed, Lord Riley,’ he said gravely, accepting their hats and coats, ‘but Mr Francis and Mr William are bo
th at home. If you would be so kind as to wait in here I shall inform them of your presence.’

  ‘No Lady Woodrow?’ Salter asked when they had been left alone in a shabby drawing room that mirrored the neglect they had observed in the grounds.

  ‘Died a couple of years back. Francis Woodrow will inherit the title when his father goes. He lives here with his wife and children, as does William, the middle brother, who is not married.’

  ‘No country estate then?’ Salter asked, feigning shock. ‘What is the world coming to?’

  Riley sent him a droll look. ‘The Woodrows have always resided in Islington. I hear tell that William intends to stand for Parliament.’

  ‘As a Tory, I assume.’

  ‘Your assumption is correct, Sergeant,’ Riley said, his tone reflecting his disapproval at Salter’s judgemental attitude. ‘Put your personal feelings to one side and remain objective. If you cannot manage that then Carter can help me conduct these interviews.’

  ‘I didn’t mean no disrespect. Someone has to represent the people’s interests in Parliament, I suppose. Still, an’ all, judging by the changes taking place around these parts, it’s by far from certain that a Tory will be elected to do the representing. Looks like the family has fallen upon hard times.’ Salter glanced around the shabby room and sniffed. ‘This place ain’t exactly salubrious, although it’s a thousand times better than my humble abode. They’ll be clinging on to the old pile out of pride, I’m guessing. I reckon Roderick left the sinking ship before he went down with it.’

  ‘Only to have his life cut short elsewhere.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’

  Salter’s ruminations were interrupted by the entrance of Francis Woodrow.

  ‘Lord Riley,’ he said, extending his hand. Riley introduced his sergeant, but Francis apparently deemed him unworthy of the same courtesy. That would not sit well with Salter, who had already allowed his poor opinion of the privileged upper classes to cloud his judgement and had kept his own hands in his pockets anyway. ‘I am told you are here in your official capacity, which leads me to suppose that Rod had fallen foul of the law. Thank you for being discreet and coming to me in person.’ He expelled a weary sigh. ‘What has he done this time?’